A Touch of Greed
patted Walt’s arm. “I’m sorry.”
    “Yeah,” Walt said, lamenting the loss of two of his men. “Me too.”
    Fisk popped a handful of trail mix in his mouth and looked around the table. “Are we ready?”
    Morris and Dutton both shoved their tablets aside and nodded.
    Fisk looked at the CIA Director first. “Ken, what’s going on with Templeton in Cairo? I thought that was taken care of?”
    “It is,” Morris said.
    “Then why am I getting e-mails from Interpol stating he’s still able to recruit as a detainee?”
    “Recruiting is a strong word,” Morris said. “He’s been able to send messages through a courier acting as his attorney. We’ve got it under control.”
    Fisk seemed satisfied, then roamed the table until his eyes landed on Walt. “What’s going on with the border? How did Garza get to our men?”
    Walt glanced at Morris briefly before he said, “There was a mole in our Homeland Security division. We figured out who it was, but apparently there’s been more penetration than we’d anticipated.” He looked at Morris. “We could use a little help.”
    Fisk swiveled his head back and forth between Walt and Morris. “Is there a problem guys?”
    FBI Director Louis Dutton glared across the table. “Apparently there’s a plant inside the Mexican border, yet we’re not able to use him because we’re not receiving any data.”
    Fisk raised his eyebrows. “Ken, what’s the deal?”
    Morris seemed prepared for that and didn’t take the bait. “We’ve contracted with a private firm to infiltrate Garza’s circle. Apparently, the operative has made contact with Garza and has actually been inside the compound. That’s as much as we know.”
    Fisk looked at Dutton who gave him a “see what I mean?” expression. The Secretary of State dipped his large fingers into the plastic cup and came out with some nuts and raisins. He placed them in his mouth and chewed with a thoughtful stare.
    “Do you know who this plant is?” Fisk asked.
    Morris remained stoic. “I’m not jeopardizing this operation, Sam. There’s too much at stake. Besides,” Morris looked down at his hands, “he’s missed a couple of scheduled communications.”
    “So what does that mean?” Fisk asked.
    “It means he’s either dead or worse,” Walt finished for him.
    “Worse?” Fisk squinted.
    Walt let Morris take that one. The CIA Director tapped a finger on the table.
    “He may have turned,” Morris said, with a disgusted tone.
    Fisk rubbed a hand over his eyes. “Boy, you guys have all kinds of good news for me, don’t you?”
    “It gets worse,” Morris said, taking in everyone at the table. His subdued demeanor made Walt’s mouth dry. He poured a glass of water from the pitcher in front of him.
    “Our intelligence has confirmed the transport of a dirty bomb to within a mile of the Arizona border,” Morris said.
    Fisk reached for more trail mix, then stopped mid-dip. “What?”
    “Yes,” Morris seemed to take it head on. “It’s true.”
    Fisk looked at Walt and must’ve caught him nodding. He pointed to Walt. “You knew about this?”
    “Yes,” Walt said, and Morris couldn’t keep the surprised look from his face.
    Fisk seemed to notice the same thing. “Ken,” Fisk said, “did you know Walt was aware of this?”
    Morris looked dejected. “No.”
    Fisk looked at Walt. “Did you know Ken knew about this?”
    Walt shook his head.
    Fisk leaned over the table and craned his neck. “Are you telling me, both of you knew about a nuclear threat and neither of you spoke to each other about it?”
    Walt pursed his lips, but said nothing. Morris kept up his fascination with his hands.
    Martin Riggs had been listening intently to the proceedings, but his laconic personality kept him from entering the discussion. He’d always found a way to utilize the smallest amount of words to accomplish his thought.
    “After Navy SEAL Team Six took care of Osama bin Laden,” Riggs said, “the Navy’s

Similar Books

A Song of Shadows

John Connolly

Aurora

David A. Hardy

The Anathema

Zachary Rawlins

A Wee Dose of Death

Fran Stewart

Lilah

Gemma Liviero

To Perish in Penzance

Jeanne M. Dams