“I don’t think he’ll be a major problem. He just doesn’t like outsiders being involved in bureau business. If the situation were reversed, we’d feel the same way.”

Nathan grunted. One of the fluorescent tubes over the entry was flickering with an annoying electronic buzz, a result of absent management. He caught the nasty smell of a Dumpster nearby. Once inside, Nathan used the head while Harv ordered two black coffees to go. Then Harv used the head while Nathan paid for the coffee with a twenty-dollar bill. He told the server to keep the change. Graveyard shifts could be lean and he, like Harv, had a generous nature, even when in a foul mood.

Four minutes after stopping they were on the road again, heading east on Highway 50. The drive took just over thirty minutes, the last ten in silence. The geography gradually transformed into dark country roads lined with barbed-wire fencing. The foothills of the Sierra Nevada Mountains were mostly horse and cattle country. To the west, Nathan could see barns and small houses backlit by the orange glow of Sacramento. As the sedan slowed, Henning flashed his high beams twice, pulled behind a plain gray van parked on the shoulder of the road, and killed the engine.

“Please wait here,” Holly said. She climbed out and approached the surveillance van. The rear doors opened, and she disappeared inside. Nathan had a brief look at the wall-to-wall black boxes and video monitors.

“The bureau doesn’t condone this sort of operation,” Henning said.

“Actually, it just did.” Nathan yawned. “And we aren’t with the bureau.” He stared out the window, bored with the conversation. “You’re following orders. Can’t we just leave it at that?”

“So that makes it okay? Just following orders? Sounds like Nuremberg to me.”

Nathan ignored the comment.

“Who are you, McBride, some kind of has-been CIA interrogator? Some burned-out spook for hire?”

“You’re in the FBI, check me out for yourself.”

“Your service record is classified top-secret by the Department of Defense.”

“And?”

“And I don’t like not knowing who you are.”

He leaned forward and whispered, “We’re legitimate businessmen with a successful security services firm. We can provide you with customer references if you feel you really need them.”

“That’s cute, McBride.”

He nudged Harv’s leg.

“What exactly do you want to know about us?” Harv asked. “And what would that information mean to you? Suppose we gave you our colorful background, then what? How are you better off by knowing it?”

“For one, I’d like to know who I’m getting in bed with. I need to know I can trust you if the shit hits the fan out here.”

“Did it occur to you we might be wondering the same thing about you?” Harvey asked. “We’re on the same side here.”

“The hell we are.”