CHAPTER 97

I AWOKE SLOWLY, GROGGILY, to the muffled sounds of Nana Mama downstairs in the kitchen. I looked at the clock; it was 5:20 p.m.

Groaning, I closed my eyes, wanting to fall back into deep sleep. Instead, I drifted into that buzzing state between fully awake and fully asleep when your subconscious often bubbles up some insight or angle on whatever is simmering deep in your brain.

Images floated behind my closed eyelids: Katrina White, dressed in running wear, killing Judge Franklin and her driver. Killing Judge Pak and Professor Carver and not seeming to care much about the cameras.

The subconscious insight bubbled up then, and I snapped awake. I glanced at Bree, was happy to see her sound asleep, got slowly out of bed, and took my cell phone into the bathroom.

I found the contact and called. The phone rang three times before someone picked up.

“I don’t know why I’m answering you, Cross,” said Keith Karl Rawlins, the smartest guy I knew when it came to computers.

“You’re mad at me?”

“Well, a little anger, a little love.”

“Why the anger?”

“You didn’t warn me that Director Hamilton was going to have agents pound on my door at five in the morning and deliver me to a Boston suburb.”

“I apologize. But what about the love?”

Rawlins lowered his voice and said in a conspiratorial tone, “This place? Paladin? It’s extraordinary what they can do. When I’m at the keyboard, it’s like I’m driving a Ferrari.”

“Have you put fences around the Ferrari like Hamilton asked?”

“It’s proving more challenging than I expected. I could just pull the plug on the place, but there are so many federal agencies that have data flowing through here on a constant real-time basis that I’d shut half the government down in the process.”

“Okay, so here’s why I called. I want to know, given that mega-data flow through Malcomb’s computers, could he somehow erase someone? Digitally, I mean.”

After a long pause, Rawlins said, “Interesting. I don’t think he could erase them from every data bank in the world, but … it’s likely that some kind of filter in the Paladin algorithms could exclude certain data from search results.”

“Data like biometrics?”

“Maybe.”

“While you’re up there working, could you look for a filter like that? It would be specific, for a woman named Katrina White. A Russian national. A GRU Sparrow.”

“An actual Sparrow?” Rawlins said. “That is interesting. I’ll see what I can find.”

I hung up and took a shower; Bree came in while I was finishing.

“Good sleep?” I said, shutting the water off. I grabbed a towel.

“Zombie sleep,” she said. “I’m hoping a shower will help.”

“It will.” I saw two texts from Mahoney. The first said Sampson was weak but showing no signs of infection. The second said Ned was back overseeing the protection of the six justices who were attending the seven presidential balls around the city that were about to kick off.

I texted him that we were up and on standby if he needed us. I dressed and went downstairs as Bree was getting out of the shower.