Chapter 4

4

By the time Teddy arrived at the Arrington Hotel—still in his Billy Barnett guise—it was nearly eleven. He gave the valet his keys, climbed into a waiting golf cart, and was driven to Stone’s house, located behind the hotel’s main building.

Stone opened the door and let Teddy in. “You made it.”

“Did you think I wasn’t coming?” Teddy asked.

Stone smirked. “I thought there was a chance.”

“I can’t deny that the thought of going home crossed my mind, but…”

“How about something to drink?”

“Macallan?”

“The twelve- or the eighteen-year-old?”

“Eighteen. A double.”

Stone led Teddy into the living room, then headed over to the bar.

Lance Cabot rose from where he’d been sitting on the couch. “Good evening, Teddy. You’re looking good. Hollywood obviously suits you.”

“I like to think so.”

Lance gestured to the chair on the other side of the coffee table. “Please, sit.”

Stone joined a few moments later, handed Teddy his drink, and sat in the chair next to him.

Teddy thanked him, then said to Lance, “Stone said the craziest thing to get me to show up here. He said that you wanted to talk to me about Golden Hour.”

“That’s correct.”

“Golden Hour happened over two decades ago.” Teddy knew this because he’d been part of the mission.

“There has been some recent fallout.”

“What kind of fallout?”

“The terminal kind,” Lance said. “Someone is killing the agents who were assigned to Golden Hour.”

“And this is recent?” Teddy asked. “That makes no sense.”

“It started one month ago.”

“How many have been killed?”

“Three. Marcus Rendon, Laurel Nguyen, and Owen Pace.”

Teddy had known all of them, of course, but Nguyen’s loss was particularly painful. She had been a good friend when Teddy had still worked at the CIA.

“I thought Nguyen and Rendon had left the Agency years go,” he said.

Lance nodded. “Both retired, seven and ten years ago, respectively.”

“But they were still targeted?”

“They were. Rendon was first. Nguyen was executed two weeks ago. And Pace last night while on assignment in Paris.”

“Just because all three were part of Golden Hour doesn’t mean they were killed because of it. If memory serves, there were twelve of us on the operation. Have any of the others been targeted?”

“Not yet,” Lance said.

“Then I assume there’s something else that makes you believe the murders are tied to Golden Hour.”

Lance opened a manila envelope and slid out two business cards. Printed in the middle of each was a logo featuring the letter T . The cards were otherwise blank. “One was found on Rendon and the other on Nguyen.”

Teddy’s jaw clenched. “The Trust?”

“The Trust,” Lance said. “There was a card on Owen, too, but it’s in transit.”

“It can’t be the Trust. They’re all dead.”

Run by a man named Tovar Lintz, the Trust was the organization Operation Golden Hour had been created to take down—a task the CIA accomplished with great success.

Disguised as a legitimate financial institution, the Trust’s true purpose had been to fund terrorist operations around the world. Anyone who got in the organization’s way usually ended up dead, with a business card, exactly like those on the table, left in the victim’s pocket.

Teddy picked up one of the cards, studied it, then set it back down. “It’s been decades. If there was anyone left who wanted revenge, they would have done it years ago. At most, this is a copycat.”

“A copycat who has been killing agents involved in Golden Hour.”

Teddy picked up his whisky and finished it off.

“Can I get you a refresh?” Stone asked.

“Please.”

Stone picked up Teddy’s glass and walked over to the bar.

Teddy waited until he returned before he said to Lance, “How does anyone outside the CIA even know who the agents on the mission were? Unless procedures have changed, those kind of records are locked away.”

For the first time, Lance looked uncomfortable. “I’m dealing with that issue, so you don’t have to worry about it.”

“You have a mole, don’t you?”

For a moment, it looked as though Lance wasn’t going to respond, but then he said, “It is possible that someone is helping from the inside.”

“I would say it’s more than possible.”

“As I said, I am dealing with it.”

“All right, then what is it you want from me?” Teddy asked.

“To find out who’s doing this to my people.”

“You have a whole agency of operatives who can do that for you.”

“But none with your unique qualifications.”

“Unique in what way?”

“You were one of the planners of Golden Hour and know more about it than any of the other agents still alive.”

Teddy had created a device that was the centerpiece of the operation. He’d been on the mission to make sure it worked correctly.

“I’d hardly call that unique. You could easily bring any of the other agents up to speed.”

“I’m not finished.”

“I apologize. Please, continue expounding on my uniqueness.”

“You are about to embark on a press tour in Europe, where all the assassinations have occurred, and where we believe this new threat is based. The trip is the perfect cover.”

“The trip isn’t a cover. It’s my job. One that will be keeping me very busy.”

“Naturally, I would never ask you to shirk your responsibilities.”

“Then what are you asking?”

Lance shared a glance with Stone.

“You know my feelings on this,” Stone said. “I only agreed to host this meeting if you told him.”

“Told me what?”

“Very well,” Lance said. “I believe the best chance we have to draw out whoever’s behind this is if we use you as bait.”

Teddy folded his arms over his chest and leaned back. “I’m going to need a few more details than that.”

“As far as whoever’s behind this knows, you’re dead. If you weren’t, they’d be coming after you, too. I propose we seed a few well-placed rumors saying Teddy Fay might not be as dead as reported. Not long after, we leak more rumors that you may have a connection to the film festival you’ll be attending in Berlin. Or perhaps even to your press tour. Mind you, without pointing a finger at Billy Barnett or Mark Weldon.”

“How kind of you,” Teddy said. “You do realize doing this could put innocent people in danger, several of whom are close friends of mine.”

“We believe the chances of others being harmed are minimal.”

“And that would be because…?”

“Because whoever’s doing this has been isolating their targets before killing them.”

“So far, you mean,” Teddy said. “That pattern could change.”

“Unlikely, but I’ll grant that the possibility exists. To guard against that, there will be a team keeping an eye on you and your colleagues. Covertly, of course.”

“And without your mole knowing about them.”

“We may not know who it is yet, but we’ve uncovered enough to know he or she works at Langley. I will simply use resources outside of Virginia, and make sure all communication goes directly through me.”

“That seems a little—”

Lance held up his palm, silencing Teddy. “I am fully aware that it is not the perfect plan.”

“Thank God for that,” Teddy said wryly.

“The problem is we’re on the clock here. The longer this takes, the more people will die. People you and I know and have worked with. If you have a better idea, I’d love to hear it.”

Lance’s words struck Teddy in his weakest spot, his sense of loyalty to his former colleagues. And as much as he didn’t like it, the plan made sense.

“If I do this,” he said, “I’m in charge. That means I do things my way. My people. My methods. No interference.”

“With the exception of my people there for protection.”

“And if I need to use them, I can.”

“Agreed,” Lance said. “Also anyone I can send your way who might have information that will help you.”

“Only if you really think they can help.”

“I wouldn’t waste your time.”

“Fine,” Teddy said. “One more thing. You pick up the bills.”

“Of course, but let’s not buy any airplanes or mansions you might take a fancy to.”

Teddy pointed his thumb at Stone. “That’s him, not me.”

“I’ll have you know I’ve added neither plane nor home to my portfolio in quite some time,” Stone said.

“Which only means you’re due,” Lance noted. “So, Teddy, do we have a deal?”

Teddy hesitated a moment, then nodded. “Deal.”

Stone saw Teddy out, then returned to the living room.

Lance had moved to the back window and had his phone to his ear.

“The specialist I told you about is on board,” Lance said into the device. “He’ll have a contact embedded in a press tour for Centurion Pictures’ new film. I want a team in place to watch over everyone on the tour. I want nothing to happen to any of them.” He listened. “Good, then that’s settled. I’ll forward you the info on the tour and the contact.” He hung up.

Stone poured himself a Knob Creek and took a sip. “I told you it was better to let him know you’d be leaking the rumors than him finding out later.”

“Yes, yes. You were right, and I was wrong. Does that make you feel better?”

“It warms my heart.”

“I think that might be the Knob Creek.”

“Huh. You may be right.” Stone saluted him and took another drink.