“Been trying to get that info. So far, no answers. But we did get something in, not in the CIA/DIA loop.”
“How?” asked Michelle.
Littlefield looked disappointed by the question. “Hey, CIA and military aren’t the only ones playing overseas; the Bureau has resources there too.” He lifted out a piece of paper from the files. “Wherever Wingo was heading to, there were bodies found. All of them had been shot.”
“Who were they?” asked Sean.
“Muslims.”
“From where?” asked Sean.
Littlefield put the paper back in the file. “Don’t know. But let me clarify. They weren’t from any official government over there. They were insurgents.”
Sean and Michelle took this in and Sean said, “Insurgents? So are you saying…?”
Littlefield nodded, a grim look in his eyes. “The euros from us might, and I emphasize might, be going to a group that wants to topple an Islamic government.”
“Which one?” asked Sean.
“Don’t know. We’re funding Syrian rebels publicly now, with both weapons and other supplies, so I don’t think it’s them.”
“That narrows the choices,” said Sean. “To some really bad ones.”
“And if that became public? And the identity of the country?” said Michelle.
“Not good,” answered Sean.
Littlefield said, “We’ve been known to send aid to the enemies of our enemies before. But we do try to keep it on the QT. In this situation that’s not a can of worms anyone wants to open. Unfortunately, this can has been partially opened. Somehow the story about the money and Sam Wingo made it to the press. That’s another reason we need to keep a tight lid on the kid. The press will be all over him otherwise. We have an agent with eyes on the Wingo house. There are media trucks all over the place. It’s all starting, and once the press is on the hunt they don’t quit until a bigger story comes along. And I don’t see that happening.”
“Good thing we got Tyler out of there when we did,” noted Sean.
“But the money never made it to where it was supposed to go?” said Michelle.
“Apparently not. Either Sam Wingo stole it or somebody took it from him.”
“And why are you really looping us in on all this?” said Sean. “I doubt it was my partner’s eloquence about sticking something up your, well, you get the point.”
“It wasn’t her eloquence, although it was good, I have to admit. It was the kid.”
“What about him?” said Sean.
“The only people he’ll talk to are you two. And we need him. Or at least the Bureau believes we do, to get to the bottom of all this, because he’s the only connection we have to his old man. And the Bureau doesn’t want to be seen as manhandling a kid who might have lost his soldier dad in combat.”
“All of which means you need us,” said Michelle.
“For now,” replied Littlefield, who then smiled stiffly at her. “Until we stop needing you.”
He rose. “Now let’s go.”
“Where?” asked Sean.
“To see the man.”
“FBI director?” said Michelle.
“Aim higher,” said Littlefield cryptically. “A lot higher.”
CHAPTER