Chapter 11

11

Teddy arrived at the meet location just before 5:00 a.m.

It was a restaurant on a narrow side street, not far from Piazza Navona. When he tried the door, he found it unlocked.

He had made the decision not to let Rogers know that Teddy Fay was still alive and had transformed himself into a bland-looking middle-aged man, with graying blond hair, before leaving the hotel.

This also helped him evade his CIA minders, as he preferred that they concentrate their efforts on keeping his friends safe. Besides, he didn’t need them watching his back. He had Vesna for that.

He removed his pistol from his shoulder holster, then eased the door open and stepped inside.

There was just enough light from a nearby streetlamp coming in through the windows for him to see that the room was unoccupied.

He crossed to a set of swinging double doors at the back. Each had a dinner-plate-sized window in the top half, through which dim light streamed into the hall.

He peered through one of them.

Leaning against a stove and facing the door was Samuel Rogers, a gun held loosely at his side.

Teddy scanned the rest of the room to make sure Rogers was alone, then announced, “I’m coming in.”

After holstering his own weapon, he opened the door and stepped inside, holding out his palms to show they were empty.

“Lance sends his regards and said that he hopes you had a nice time in Malta,” he said. This had been the identification code Lance had given him.

Rogers relaxed and put his gun away. “So, you’re Lance’s specialist?”

Teddy sneered. “I’m not Lance’s anything.”

“All of us in the Agency are Lance’s something or other.”

“Good thing I don’t work for the Agency then.”

“You don’t?”

“I’m more of an outside consultant.”

“I see.” Rogers studied him anew. “All right, Mr. Consultant, what is it you want from me?”

“Did Lance not tell you why we are meeting?”

“The only thing I was told was that I have information you need. I was not told what that information is.”

“How very Lance of him.”

Rogers snorted. “Are you sure you don’t work for the Agency?”

“I’m sure,” Teddy said.

“How can I help you?”

“I understand you were part of an operation called Golden Hour.”

Rogers’s brow furrowed in surprise. “That’s not a name I’ve heard in a long time. Yes, I was. But how can that possibly be of interest now?”

“Because someone is killing the agents who were assigned to that mission.”

“Are you messing with me?”

“I assure you, I’m not.”

Teddy briefed him on what had been happening, without mentioning the names of those killed.

“Owen Pace was part of Golden Hour. He was one of the victims, wasn’t he?”

Teddy nodded. “The latest.”

“Now I know why Lance wanted us to meet. I was one of the last people to talk to Owen.”

“In person?”

“On the phone.”

“What did you talk about?”

“He was cultivating a new source. Said it was someone with knowledge of the dark money funding of terrorist operations. Owen knew I’ve dealt with a lot of that, so he wanted to know if I’d ever heard of the guy. When I said I hadn’t, he asked me if I could look into him.”

“What did you find?”

“Just generic stuff. Felt off to me.”

“Did you pass that on to Owen?”

He nodded. “The last time we spoke, I warned him that there was a good chance the guy wasn’t who he said he was. I told him he shouldn’t do anything until he could be sure one way or the other.”

“How did he respond?”

“He said he’d think about it. The next morning, he was dead.” Rogers shook his head. “It’s hard to believe this has something to do with the Trust, though. Stopping those involved was the purpose of Golden—” Rogers sucked in a breath. “Oh, shit.”

“What?”

“A few days ago in Prague, I was followed to my hotel. I gave the guy the slip, but I have no idea who he was or why he was interested in me.”

“Were you working on anything that would have warranted that kind of attention?”

“That’s the thing. I wasn’t. But if he was following me because of Golden Hour…”

“That would explain his interest.”

Rogers nodded, then ran a hand through his hair. “That means he probably was there to kill me.”

“Do you have any guesses as to who could be behind this? Maybe someone associated with the Trust you remember from back then?”

After considering the question, Rogers shook his head. “Sorry. No one comes to mind. I do know a few people who might have heard something. I can contact them and report back.”

“That would be very helpful. How long do you think that will take?”

“I don’t anticipate any problems reaching them, so maybe by this evening. Tomorrow, latest.”

“Sooner is better. The longer whoever is behind this is allowed to operate, the more people will die.”

“I understand. Do I contact you directly or…?”

“Go through Billy Barnett,” Teddy said.

“He’s a movie guy, though. Unless he’s also with the Agency.”

“Not with, more a friend of. And his position provides the perfect cover to pass messages. No one will suspect his involvement with us.”

“I’ll do as you say.”

“One thing, though. He’s leaving tomorrow morning on the 7:55 a.m. train to Venice.”

“I’ll try to be in touch before then, but no promises.”