Page 132 of To Die For

Chambers leaned in. “Angie brought up the business in Maine to also illustrate another point, a connection, in fact, with where we are presently.”

Davenport tapped the table with her fingernail. “The girl on the train, as you colloquially refer to her.”

“And how do you know that? And how did you know what to write in the note you put under my door?”

“The word ‘intelligence’isin our name,” noted Chambers.

“And we’re here to ask you about her,” added Davenport.

“Why?”

“Because she used to work for us.”

“I know nothing about that.”

“Oh, come on, Agent Devine,” said Chambers. “If you lie to us, we’ll get nowhere.” He glanced around again. “But can we at least stretch our legs? I know bookstores are not the usual stomping grounds for foreign spies, but I’ll feel like an idiot if we’re being recorded here. And I, for one, do not wish to see my thirty-year career of public service end in a professional scandal that took place across from the young adult section and a cappuccino machine.”

A minute later they were walking slowly along the pavement, while Devine observed that a black Tahoe followed at a discreet distance.

“Her name is Prudence Jackson, Pru for short,” said Davenport. “She was one of our best field agents.” She gazed up at Devine. “Look, to be up front, I will make some statements, Mr. Devine, and share some information with you, in the hopes that you will reciprocate. I will do this knowing full well that we have no way to force you to do so.”

“Waterboarding off the approved list?” said Devine.

“I tell you what,” exclaimed Chambers. “Hollywood has royally fucked us over.”

Davenport said, “Jackson was a first-class intelligence officer. In the same mold as Jenny Silkwell, but with a survivalist mentality that made her the perfect choice to drop into hot spots all around the world. She served brilliantly.”

“So what happened?”

“We were told that she was killed by an enemy of this country and her remains were buried in an unknown location,” replied Davenport. She paused here and studied Devine once more. “I take it that whatever she may have told you does not comport with my statement?”

“How do you know she’s told me anything? Or that we’ve evereven met? I don’t even know if this Pru Jackson was the woman who tried to kill me on the train.”

Davenport continued, “We have since learned that Jackson is not dead, and has been quite active. Shedidtry to kill you on a train from Geneva to Milan. We have the proof.”

“And she tried at least twice in Maine to put you six feet under,” added Chambers.

Davenport said, “Jackson has become a mercenary. Highly placed, highly compensated.”

“You know all this, but you can’t find her?” said Devine skeptically.

“She is very good at what she does. And haveyourpeople at DHS been able to find her?” she retorted.

Got me there, thought Devine. “Okay, she’s highly placed and compensated and she’s good at hiding. What else?”

“Can you at least tell me something you’ve learned about her? It might save us a lot of time. And my instincts are telling me we are fast running out of that.”

Chambers added, “We know something big is being planned, right here on American soil. Not another 9/11, thank God. But maybe, in the end, perhaps even more damaging. If you understand me.”

“I’ve heard that from other quarters,” conceded Devine.

“So, shall we join forces?” Chambers said.

“My boss, Emerson Campbell, is back at my hotel. Why don’t we have a powwow of sorts and see what we can do together?”

Chambers and Davenport glanced at each other. She said, “I guess it’s high time we all started cooperating. If we want to have a damn country left to serve.”

CHAPTER

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