“And is there any trace of them now?” he said.

Reyland was about to tell him the difficulty of the task, to tell him how many analysts they had at this moment sitting in front of computer screens, devising new algorithms and looking for anomalies and clusters in the data mine.

He was going to tell him how thorough a proctology exam they were giving to the life of Ruby Everett and the mysterious, now-missing NYPD detective Daniel Henrickson. How several of his staff would literally be living at the office until they were found.

Instead he said simply, “No.”

The old men pondered that some more.

The pointy-chinned man spoke next with an East Coast lockjaw voice that was high and almost effeminate.

“Damage control aside for the moment. What is your recommendation for moving forward on Director Dunning’s initial mission?” he said.

“Glad you asked me that, sir. London is a green light. I just got off the phone last night. Despite everything, we’re still looking very good. Our asset is ready to operate as scheduled.”

“So it’s just a matter of discretion, then,” the ghostly white blue-eyed man beside him said with a pleased surprise.

“Yes, sir,” Reyland said. “We just need to keep it all under wraps for five more days.”

The old man looked down at the table, his striking eyes half-hooded. There was a strangely amused look on his face, like he was about to tell the punch line of a funny joke. Reyland watched him. This mysterious man who collected CEOs and senators and Congress people like baseball cards.

When he suddenly smiled, it was like the whole dim room lit up. He flashed deep dimples, and his soft multibillion-dollar Dodger-blue eyes twinkled like the lights on the Chesapeake Bay Bridge out the window behind him.

“Then by all means I think you should continue, Robert,” he said with his plum-in-the-mouth British accent. “Plug this potential leak. We’ll handle the media. You leave that to us.”

“Still with no parameters, correct?” Reyland said, staring at this famous secretive man who many said had economically devoured his first country, a small South American one, before he was thirty.

“Correct,” the blue-eyed man said.

“With all available resources at my command?” Reyland said.

The elegant old man’s amused, ever-playful smile didn’t waver one iota.

“By any and all means necessary, Robert,” he said with a slow wink. “How could we have it any other way?”

66

Happy to have the situation somewhat stabilized and still have his head attached to his shoulders, Reyland was turning from the table when the infinitely rich old blue-eyed Brit stood.

“Robert, wait. I’ll walk you out,” he said.

Oh, boy, Reyland thought. An audience with His Serene Eminence. What now? he thought as the rich man stepped over.

The old man put his arms behind his back in a formal, almost military posture as they walked slowly alongside the arcade games.

“Tell me, who is your contact on the London end? That Watkins fellow?” he said.