Burke looked pale, like he might throw up. But he said, “The rumors are that the CIA uses GoBox, even helped found it, to act as their personal repository for classified, potentially damaging documents and to hide away black budget and illegally obtained funds.”

Carter grinned with obvious pride. “Thank you, Dr. Burke. Any comment on that, Agent Yoshida?”

Yoshida’s smile didn’t falter. “Such allegations are baseless conspiracy theories, but even if all that was true, what difference would it make? What bearing would it have on this situation? And don’t act like your self-righteous FBI and the DOJ don’t have secret task forces and hidden funds. We’ve all heard rumors about groups like the Shepherd Organization.”

Carter shook his head. “The SO isn’t a secret. They’re just a simple think tank.”

“Exactly. And the CIA would never hide funds or conduct operations on US soil. All that would be illegal and unthinkable.”

Carter gave a little chuckle and a shake of his head. “I think we’re done here. We need to get back to Henderson and do what we can to save a building full of people whose lives are in danger, likely because of some clandestine bullcrap that’s going on there that you two have full knowledge of. I’ve been doing this long enough to feel the temperature of a situation. These guys are stalling for time right now, but they’re about to turn up the heat. They’re about to do whatever it is they came for. If we don’t get out in front of them, people are going to get hurt or die. Good innocent people. The kind we swore to protect. And if that happens, and I find out that you’ve been protecting your secrets over those lives, then I’m going to personally drown the both of you in their blood.”

PART TWO

Chapter 35

Kruger watched in disgust as Dr. JoAnn Raskin opened her bag and retrieved the small vials of liquid. It took every bit of his self-control not to snap the doctor’s neck. What she was a doctor of, he had no idea. He simply knew that her expertise was in death.

Through clenched teeth, he said, “We’d better not have a repeat of last time.”

Standing up to full height, the unpleasant little woman glared at him. Raskin was American-born. Even if he hadn’t heard her speak, Kruger would have known her origins from the cocky, self-righteous, and entitled way she carried herself. She had stick-straight red hair that seemed unnaturally thin to him, like she was old beyond her years. He guessed she was in her forties, but it was difficult to tell with her angry little face always scrunched up into a scowl.

“We’ve been over this a thousand times,” she said. “What happened that day was not because of my work. It was because of your incompetence or negligence or just plain stupidity.”

“I told you that I followed your instructions to the letter. You killed those people, not me.”