Kaminski asked, “My uncle knew you as a musicologist, uno professore. But you are much more than that, aren’t you?”

“Yes. Well, I was. I worked for the army and the government. Then I had a group that tracked down war criminals.”

“Like the man who killed my uncle?”

“Yes.”

“You said ‘had.’ What happened?”

“The group broke up.”

“Why?” Perez asked.

Middleton decided to share the story with them. “There was an incident in Africa. The four of us tracked down a warlord in Darfur. He’d been stealing AIDS drugs from the locals and selling children as soldiers. We did an extraordinary rendition—lured him to international waters and were going to fly him back to The Hague for trial. Then our main witnesses against him all died quote accidentally in a fire. They were in a safe house. The doors were locked and it burned. Most of them had their families with them. Twenty children died. Without the witnesses there was no trial. We had to let him go. I was going to head back to Darfur and make a case against him for the fire but Val—Valentin Brocco—lost it. He heard the man smirking about how he’d beaten us. Val pulled him out back and shot him in the head.

“I couldn’t keep going after that. I disbanded the group. You’ve got to play by the rules. If you don’t, their side wins. We’re no better than they are.”

“It looks like it bothered you very much,” Kaminski said.

“They were my friends. It was hard.”

And one of them was much more than just a friend. But this was part of the story Middleton didn’t share.

His phone beeped. He glanced at the screen and read the lengthy SMS message. “Speak of the devil . . . It’s Lespasse and Nora,” he explained. “This is interesting . . . They talked to one of our old contacts. He found out that machinery that could be used to make a bio-weapon delivery systems was shipped to a factory in downtown Baltimore yesterday.” He looked up. “I’ve got an address. I think I’ll go check it out.” He said to Perez, “You take Felicia someplace safe and—”

The man shook his head. “I’m going with you.”

“It’s not your fight, Jack.”

“These are terrorists. It’s everybody’s fight. I’m with you.”

“You sure about that?”

“You’re not going anywhere without me.”

Middleton gave him an affectionate nod. He then subtly pulled his service Glock from his waistband and, holding the gun under the table, checked the ammunition. “I’m short a few rounds. Let me see your Beretta.”

Perez slipped him the weapon, out of sight.

Middleton looked over the clip. “You’ve got twelve and one in the hole. I’m going to borrow three or four.”