Page 51 of Trust No One

“That’s a possibility. Thank God we told him to get a burner phone.” Mel found her purse and opened an inside, zippered compartment. “I’m going to put the videos on this flash drive,” she said, holding it up. “That way, Simon can keep it in his safe deposit box while he figures out who he can trust with the information.”

“Great idea,” Dev said. “He definitely shouldn’t be walking around with that information on his phone.”

“No.” She clenched her hands into fists. Relaxed them onto the bed. “He needs to get the videos to someone he trusts, higher up in the CIA.”

“I’m gonna suggest he go straight to the Director. Who knows who else Kingsley’s corrupted? Who owes him?”

“You think we should go to the FBI?” Mel asked.

“Yeah, I do, but let’s see what Simon has to say tonight. Then we’ll decide.”

“Okay.” Mel glanced at her phone. “It’s five o’clock now. You want to head over to the Anchor? Looks like it might take close to forty-five minutes with rush hour traffic.”

“Yeah, I’d like to get there early and scope the place out. Let’s go.”

* * *

Almost an hour later, he and Mel walked into The Anchor in Silver Spring, Maryland. It was on the street level of a tall office building. He opened the door for Mel, then followed her inside.

The pub had the look of an Irish pub, with a wooden bar, wooden shelves behind it, and tables arranged around the large room. It even had a couple of snugs, booths with tall partitions on either side that would partially hide the occupants from view.

A couple was just exiting one of the snugs as they walked in, and he and Mel slid onto the seats. “This is perfect,” Mel said. “Not as obvious as a table or chairs at the bar. And not as easy for someone to overhear us.”

“Yeah,” Dev said. “We got lucky.”

When the waitress came to their table, Dev ordered a beer and Mel asked for a glass of red wine. As they waited for their drinks, Dev scanned the bar. Tridents hung on the walls, testifying to the bar’s identity as a SEAL hangout. So were photos of SEALs that he assumed were regulars at the bar. As he scanned the room, he spotted a guy he knew from the teams, sitting by himself at the bar.

He jerked his head in Johnson’s direction. “I know that guy,” he said to Mel. “We were on a few ops together.”

“You want to go say hello to him? I don’t think anyone followed us, but if someone did, it’d make it look authentic. Like we came to this place because it’s a SEAL bar.”

“Yeah, good idea.”

As soon as the waitress set his beer on the table, he picked it up and slid out of his seat. “Keep an eye on the door for Simon,” he said with a tiny smile. “I’m guessing he’ll get here early, too.”

“Will do,” she said. She slid around to the other side of the table where she could see the people entering the bar.

Holding his glass of beer, Dev walked over to the bar and sat on the stool next to his friend. “Hey, Johnson,” he said. “Damn good to see you. How’s it hangin’?”

Chapter 18

Johnson turned to look at him, his eyes widening. “Dev Smith! My God, it’s been a long time.”

“Seven or eight years, at least,” Dev said. “What the hell are you doing in here?”

The guy shrugged one shoulder. “I live in Silver Spring. This is where I hang out. What are you doing in D.C.?”

“Came for a visit. Wanted to check out the nation’s capital. I heard about this SEAL bar and thought I’d check it out.”

“You enjoying yourself in our nation’s capital?”

“Absolutely.” He clinked his glass with Johnson’s. “Word on the grapevine is you left the SEALs. Is that true?”

“Yeah, it was time to re-up, and I’d had enough. You know?”

“I do,” Dev took a drink of his beer. “You know when it’s time to go. So what have you been up to?”

“Picking up security jobs when I can,” the other man said. “Keeps me in beer money. Fills the days.”

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