There were a couple of laughs, but a stone face from Lodner. The director smiled, said to Grace, “Yes, we have the flash drive and it’s been decrypted. Let me add, Agent Savich was integral to its retrieval, as were his team of FBI agents and, of course, our agents Hildebrandt and Kingman.”

Lodner rose halfway from his chair, waved his hand toward Mike. “Sir, why weren’t Carlton and I informed of this plan? Why were we excluded?”

Hendricks said easily, “We’ll get to that, Fulton. Please sit down, take deep breaths. Your wife would be upset with me if you stroked out on my office floor.”

But Lodner wasn’t done. “Sir, how could the FBI be involved in what should have been a CIA op? And what proof do we have that Kingman was not a part of this? As our field agent, he should have turned the flash drive over to Carlton or to me the day he arrived in Washington! What he did was disappear. That callous disregard for accepted procedure is totally unacceptable.”

Savich saw both anger and insult on Lodner’s aesthete’s face. He couldn’t blame him. He wondered what he’d think if a CIA agent waltzed into his unit, took over, and used his own people. A tough pill to swallow.

“Enough, Fulton.” There was a bite to the director’s voice, a touch of the spurs. “Drink your coffee.” Hendricks waited until Lodner took an unwilling drink of his coffee, not that it appeared to calm him, before he nodded to Mike. “Agent, explain to Mr. Lodner and Mr. Grace why you did not follow protocol. Tell them what happened when you landed in Washington.”