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may not be Chris Ballard, and who they are alleging you kidnapped, shot to death in a motel room rented by you. Does that pretty much cover it?”

“Pretty much.”

“And what would you call that?”

“Well, if you put it that way, shitstorm seems appropriate. But how did they find where we’d gone so fast?”

“Did you check anybody for an electronic tracker? Or they could have just traced the chip in one of their cell phones.”

Puller sighed. “Damn. Look, Bobby, give it to me straight, does our side want Jericho to go down? If not, we’re just spinning our wheels here.”

“Unless you can show she’s been selling secrets, no.”

“And the serial killings?”

“Three decades old and too many holes.”

“Great. Then we’ve got nothing on her. And it looks like I’m going to be arrested for kidnapping and murder.”

“I think I found the motive for the subterfuge with Ballard.”

“What?”

“As I told you before, Ballard controls the patents.”

“And if something happens to him?”

“I had a DoD lawyer check through discreet channels.”

“Gee, don’t keep me in suspense, Bobby. I’m a little tense right now.”

“Ballard set up a charitable foundation. Every last penny and asset goes to it when he dies.”

“So a charity gets patents that are being used in DoD work? How exactly does that play out with the project they’re doing at Atalanta Group?”

“Atalanta Group would have kept working on them. The underlying licensing contract they have guarantees that.”

“Then I’m not getting the motive.”

“The contracts with the government only cover military applications. Atalanta Group has no control over or rights to the commercial applications. Those revert to the beneficiary under the will, in this case the foundation. Ballard dies, they’re going to come in and take over that part of it hook, line, and sinker.”

Puller said, “And Jericho’s dealings with Charpentier get cratered if that happens? Because what she’s selling him are the commercial applications. And they might find out what she’s been doing?”

“Exactly. So they had to make it seem that Ballard was still alive.”

“But we can’t get to Jericho with what we have.”

“Without Quentin and Myers I don’t see how we nail her. And, John, you really need to focus. They’re going to come after you for what happened tonight. I don’t mean Jericho. I mean the law.” He paused. “You could go to prison for this.”

“I don’t care about that,” shouted Puller. “But this means we’re not going to find out what happened to Mom.”

“We are going to find out what happened to Mom.”

“How? We’ve got nothing.”

“No, we have something. Something she wants.”

“What?”

“Rogers,” said his brother.

Puller shot a glance at Rogers, who just stared back at him blankly.

Into the phone Puller said, “We can’t do that. Do you know what this guy has—”

His brother interrupted. “John, will you trust me? I know what I’m doing. Just trust me.”

Puller sat there holding the phone and feeling more lost than he ever had in his life.

“Okay, Bobby, okay.”

Chapter

70

ROBERT PULLER WAS in his dress blues. Not out of respect for the person opposite him. He had no respect for her. The dress uniform was about him. Claire Jericho eyed him across her desk. She said, “I think the lecture at the Pentagon was the last time we saw each other. Quite a while.”

“I’ve been busy, so have you.”

“And of course you had your little prison sojourn at Leavenworth.”

“It was a good time to think and read. No interruptions.”

“Your career is back on its accelerated path, I’m told.”

“And you’re still doing what you’ve always done.”

“You’re far more subtle than your father.”

“My brother told me you and our father had met. Didn’t quite see eye to eye?”

“I was trying to spare your brother’s feelings. It was actually more aptly a tank battle.”

“My dad led men on the ground. He didn’t see the need to be tucked away in armor. He had enough of his own.”

“Merely a metaphor.”

“And I’m not here to talk about him. I’m here to talk about my mother.”

“So I understand.”

“You got my email?”

She said, “Cryptic. I appreciate the effort.”

“It’s why I’m here in person. To conclude the arrangement.”

“It’s delicate.”

“And also straightforward.”

“With assurances that this has been signed off on at the highest levels? There will be no blowback?”

“I think I covered that in my cryptic email.”

She picked up a pen and twirled it between her fingers. “Is it really that important to you?”

“You’re a mother, correct?”

“Was a mother, since my daughter was murdered.”

“And you still don’t understand the reason I’m here, then?”

“I understand the sentiment. I’m just wondering if it’s worth all this fuss.”

Robert Puller gripped the edge of his chair to keep himself from launching across the desk and gripping her neck.

“Well, I think it is worth the fuss.”

“So Rogers, then, in exchange?”

Robert nodded. “And my brother and his friends will walk away from this unharmed in any way.”

“So your cryptic email said. But I’m not so sure about that. They did considerable damage. And I’m giving up a lot as it is.”

“I have to insist on that point.”

“I’ll think about it,” she said airily, seeming to enjoy her advantage over him on this part of the negotiations.

“And you want particulars? Location only? You must understand that I had no personal involvement. It was the responsibility of others. And I am powerless to bring back the dead.”

Robert Puller again gripped the chair. “I want both particulars and location.”

Jericho sat back. “Show me the approvals.”

Puller opened the briefcase he’d brought with him, took out an electronic tablet, brought the requisite pages up, and slid it across to her.

She took several minutes looking over them. Finally she nodded and passed the device back to him.

“Rather astonishing,” she said. “I would hardly think people at that level would care.”

“People at that level have great respect for my father.”


Tags: David Baldacci John Puller Thriller