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did it.”
    “Well if it’s all the same to you,” Jack said. “I’d rather you kept it for now. Can you help me or not?”
    “I don’t know, Jack. You’re asking me to put my ass on the line. This isn’t some local street gang we’re talking about.”
    Jack reached down between his legs and set the briefcase he had brought with him on the seat between them. “That’s two hundred and fifty thousand. Get me the drive back and I’ll make it half a million. I can get you names, maybe help find some of them, but that’s it. This isn’t a company job. If someone finds out what’s going on, I’m fucked.”
    Rollins reached for the briefcase, then pulled his hand back. “Seven-fifty. And if I so much as suspect I’m stepping on someone else’s toes, I’m gone.”
    “Done,” Jack said.

Chapter 12
    FBI Field Office
    New York, New York Monday 17 July 2006
    1400 EDT
    Mike had only been asleep for half an hour when he was dragged back into the land of the living by a knock on the door. He sat up slowly and rubbed his neck. The couch in his office was comfortable enough, but at least a foot short. “Come in.”
    Mike’s first impression of the man who stepped into his office was that he wasn’t real. He was only a few inches over five feet and wore a tailored black pinstripe suit that looked like it might have cost at least a grand. His skin was a smooth, deep bronze, almost certainly the product of a daily routine involving a tanning bed and a cocktail of men’s designer skin care products. His jet-black hair was combed back and held in place by some kind of gel that gave it a shine matched only by his shoes, which gleamed like polished glass. To Mike, he looked like he’d strayed off the set of a 1930s gangster movie.
    “Agent Banner?” the man said, offering him a grin composed of teeth that were both too white and too symmetrical.
    “That’s me.”
    “Bruce Jessops, White House liaison. Mary said you might be hiding in here.”
    Mike stood up and straightened his jacket. He brought a hand to his mouth to stifle a yawn and realized he hadn’t shaved since yesterday morning. “You’ll have to excuse me. I’m roughing it at the moment.”
    “No apologies necessary,” Jessops said, holding up his hands. “This is some shit storm, hey? I still can’t quite believe it myself.”
    “That makes two of us,” Mike said.
    “Still, it’s not every day you get to be part of something this big, right?”
    “I can’t say I’ve thought of it that way,” Mike said and pointed at the seat in front of his desk. “Take a pew.”
    Jessops sat down. Mike offered to get him a cup of coffee.
    “No, thanks. I never touch the stuff. Bad for the skin. I’d take a glass of guava juice though.”
    “Yeah, I think we’re all out of that,” Mike said. “Water?”
    “No, I’m good. Listen, I’m only here to run interference when the boys from Treasury show up.”
    “Are you expecting trouble?” Mike said.
    Jessops laughed. It was right on cue and hearty, but Mike thought it sounded practiced.
    “I’m sorry,” Mike said. “Did you say you were the White House liaison ?”
    “Sounds a lot grander than it is,” Jessops said. “I’m more of a glorified errand boy, really.”
    “And you’re here to do what, exactly?”
    “The boss isn’t happy about what’s going on. If it were up to him we’d still be dealing with this ourselves. That said, if we don’t have any choice in the matter, he wants to make sure the transition is as smooth as possible. I know these guys.”
    “You mean you’re here to make sure I give them what they want.”
    Jessops shook his head. “Of course not. Why wouldn’t you? Speaking of what they want, do you mind if I have a look?”
    “Be my guest,” Mike said and handed Jessops the folder on his desk. “I doubt you’ll find it very interesting. If you’ll excuse me, I need to step out for a minute.”
    Mike left and walked down the hall to the assistant