“I want to talk to you about illegal animal trafficking.”

Knight bristled at the implication that he would know anything about such matters. There were dirty players in the animal game, no doubt, but he wasn’t one of them.

Knight sealed his briefcase. “I only deal with reputable clients.”

The man could sense that Knight was being defensive. In fact, he had wanted to put Knight off balance and had succeeded. He shifted gears, softening. “I’m just gathering information.”

“And you are?”

“Kevin Davis. I’m with the CIA.”

Knight looked up, more surprised than impressed.

“Jesus, you’re allowed to just tell me that?” Knight had never encountered a CIA officer in the wild, and based on what he had seen in the movies, he expected them to be more . . . well, unlike Kevin Davis.

“We only use our pseudos overseas.”

Knight was skeptical. “Since when did the CIA care about animal trafficking?”

“I’m trying to make them care so we can put some resources into it.”

Resources. Ha! So that was it! Knight had always assumed people took low-paying government jobs out of some quaint, irrational sense of duty. But now he recognized who was really standing in front of him. This carpetbagger was little more than Willy Loman with a badge.

“Amazing! It doesn’t matter who you are or who you work for—we’re all just doing biz dev.” Knight loved exposing people’s bullshit and couldn’t contain his amusement at his deduction. It wasn’t about the smug satisfaction of knowing he was right, but more about the wilting expression they couldn’t hide when he exposed the lies they’d been telling themselves about their own virtue.

“What do you think about the connection between animal trafficking and terrorism?” Davis pressed.

“I think it’s a fairy tale to get people in flyover states to care about saving pandas.” Knight withdrew his passport from his desk and pocketed it, double-checking that he had his phone.

“A detainee told us that Indonesian terrorists in Sumatra are trafficking tigers.”

“Well, there’s your connection.” Knight tossed him a forced smile. “Looks like you don’t need me.”

“You’re not convinced? That tiger cub at the SafariWorld Zoo was from a region in Sumatra where terrorists operate. It’s hard to believe the two aren’t connected.”

Knight was impressed that Davis had at least done his homework, even if he had gotten the answers wrong.

“And I’m purebred Welsh, but it doesn’t mean I fuck sheep. Look, when you’ve been in this line of work as long as I have, you get very cynical about people. Everyone is on the make, and every claim is a con. Half the fun of the job is proving people are full of shit.” Knight glanced at Davis, the last bit directed at him and his misguided theory.

Davis persisted. “Is the curator lying?”

Knight didn’t have time for this. His car was waiting outside. “Zoo curators want stuff their competitors don’t have, so they don’t ask a lot of questions. So then it becomes my job to ask those questions.” He tried to convey finality with his tone.