Page 80 of Out of Control

“Is there someone in the agency we can go to with this information?” Spencer asked.

“Who? How do we trust anyone?” God, even Charles had to be a suspect.

Spencer pulled a face that mirrored the dismay in his own gut.

“Honestly,” Drago said, “I think our only option is to continue doing what we are. Let’s find proof that Jabril Hamza is Kurbaj, that his old cell is active again, and that I didn’t kill Khoury. That’s my best bet for clearing my name. And if we can expose a mole as a side benefit, all the better.”

“Fair. We have plenty of proof that a cell—maybe not Hamza’s cell, but a cell—is active, compliments of these computers. Now we have to find out just who is in the cell.”

Drago nodded. “Do any of the repeat email recipients appear to live in Paris?”

Spencer looked thoughtful, then said abruptly, “Wait! One of the emails made a reference to a restaurant of some kind. If it’s local, that sender could be from Paris. Heck, it might even be a meeting place.”

“What’s the name?” he asked eagerly.

“Chez Samara.”

“Let me look it up.” Drago ran a quick search on Khoury’s laptop, using the guest Wi-Fi of the office building upstairs. “Here it is. Huh. No surprise, it’s only a dozen blocks from Khoury’s flat.”

Spencer grinned wolfishly. “How do you feel about grabbing a bite to eat at Samara’s place?”

“Sounds great.”

They continued sifting through files for another few hours before breaking off to go eat. They stood up and Spencer said, “We don’t have weapons.”

“What? You don’t think of your hands and feet as weapons?”

Spencer rolled his eyes. “Of course I do. But if these people are Khoury’s fellow terrorists, they’re going to be armed and dangerous. As in packing firearms. Any chance you’ve got a contact who can hook us up?”

“Maybe. Lemme make a phone call.”

A voice answered in curt French.

“René, it’s Drago Thorpe. Are you in town?”

“Oui, for you, my old friend, I am.”

“Any chance I can stop by in a bit?”

“Tonight?” René sounded surprised.

“Yes.”

“I have dinner guests. Can we make it later?”

“Name a time.”

“One a.m.?”

“Perfect.”

Drago disconnected the call and nodded at Spencer. “Mischief managed.”

Spencer nodded back. “I’m sorry, but I do feel naked without a firearm.”

“You’re such a soldier.”

“You’re telling me you don’t feel the same?”

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