muttered a curse. "I thought you'd walked away from that life."
"I have, but that doesn't mean I don't know the value of an ace in the hole. Stall Cassidy until you can find a way to locate Bobby Joe's body."
"Cassidy won't help until he's ordered to do it. He'll call it a wild-goose chase."
"Then that leaves it up to you, doesn't it?"
"I'm CIA, dammit. We're talking about jurisdiction. You know we're supposed to operate only outside the country."
"And the CIA never does anything but exactly what it's supposed to do, never steps on anyone's toes? I'm not asking you to join in the hunt for Kistle. But the boy's body has to be found and it has to be done quickly. If the FBI is called into the boy's case, then they'll have to go after Kistle as a possible suspect."
"And give you the FBI presence you want in Clayborne Forest. I'll see what I can do." Venable hung up.
Montalvo put away his phone and got out of the car and moved toward the forest. He didn't doubt Venable would do everything he could. He was smart and experienced and the bribe Montalvo had dangled in front of him would be tempting enough to be nearly irresistible. In the meantime, he'd do a little scouting of his own and hope those nervous deputies didn't take potshots at him. He could feel his pulse begin to quicken as his gaze fastened on the trees. Kistle was there. He wasn't trying to run. He was waiting. The prey was armed and dangerous and wanted to kill the hunter. It was the game Montalvo liked most. He couldn't blame Miguel for being disappointed that he'd made him stay at the hotel. Miguel understood the game.
And so did Joe Quinn, he thought suddenly.
Quinn had felt the same heady excitement Montalvo was feeling. He had seen it in his expression this afternoon. They were alike in that, if nothing else.
Except for their feelings for Eve. Yet even in that emotion they could not be more different. Quinn was the keeper of the castle, familiar with every battlement, and had the advantage of a passionate desire to keep what was his. Montalvo was the enemy at the gates who had nothing to lose and everything to win.
And Kistle might be the battering ram that would be the deciding weapon. He melted into the shrubbery and began moving toward the distant trees.
Come on, Kistle. Let's get this battle started.
VENABLE LEANED BACK IN HIS chair after he'd hung up his phone. Dammit, Montalvo was twisting his arm and he wanted to tell him to go take a hike. If there was one thing he hated, it was getting into jurisdictional squabbles with other law enforcement agencies. It made him look ruthless and antagonized the organization he was riding roughshod over. He didn't want to make an enemy of the boys at Quantico. In his world you never knew when you were going to need a favor. Montalvo shouldn't have put him in this position.
Nortano's weapons cache.
God, he wanted to clean that bastard out. Nortano had been a thorn in the Colombian government's side for years and Venable's agents would have a safer path if he could be removed.
And if Montalvo said he'd give him the information, he would do it. He'd never reneged on a bargain in the years he'd known him.
Okay, the decision was made. He had to have Nortano's cache. How to go about getting it without obviously compromising the Company's jurisdiction?
Bobby Joe Windlaw. Find his body. Montalvo was right: if the kid had been murdered, then he had an excuse to draw the FBI back into the picture. If Bobby Joe had drowned, Montalvo would still have to agree that Venable had completed his part of the bargain. All right, how to find Bobby Joe. Think. Make a plan. Keep it from looking like interference. He'd done this kind of sleight of hand before. It was just more difficult on U.S. soil. He'd call in any favors he could draw on and beg, borrow, and steal if he had to. Now who could do the job in the way he wanted it done?
He suddenly stiffened in shock in his chair as the answer came to him. "Holy shit." He
"I have, but that doesn't mean I don't know the value of an ace in the hole. Stall Cassidy until you can find a way to locate Bobby Joe's body."
"Cassidy won't help until he's ordered to do it. He'll call it a wild-goose chase."
"Then that leaves it up to you, doesn't it?"
"I'm CIA, dammit. We're talking about jurisdiction. You know we're supposed to operate only outside the country."
"And the CIA never does anything but exactly what it's supposed to do, never steps on anyone's toes? I'm not asking you to join in the hunt for Kistle. But the boy's body has to be found and it has to be done quickly. If the FBI is called into the boy's case, then they'll have to go after Kistle as a possible suspect."
"And give you the FBI presence you want in Clayborne Forest. I'll see what I can do." Venable hung up.
Montalvo put away his phone and got out of the car and moved toward the forest. He didn't doubt Venable would do everything he could. He was smart and experienced and the bribe Montalvo had dangled in front of him would be tempting enough to be nearly irresistible. In the meantime, he'd do a little scouting of his own and hope those nervous deputies didn't take potshots at him. He could feel his pulse begin to quicken as his gaze fastened on the trees. Kistle was there. He wasn't trying to run. He was waiting. The prey was armed and dangerous and wanted to kill the hunter. It was the game Montalvo liked most. He couldn't blame Miguel for being disappointed that he'd made him stay at the hotel. Miguel understood the game.
And so did Joe Quinn, he thought suddenly.
Quinn had felt the same heady excitement Montalvo was feeling. He had seen it in his expression this afternoon. They were alike in that, if nothing else.
Except for their feelings for Eve. Yet even in that emotion they could not be more different. Quinn was the keeper of the castle, familiar with every battlement, and had the advantage of a passionate desire to keep what was his. Montalvo was the enemy at the gates who had nothing to lose and everything to win.
And Kistle might be the battering ram that would be the deciding weapon. He melted into the shrubbery and began moving toward the distant trees.
Come on, Kistle. Let's get this battle started.
VENABLE LEANED BACK IN HIS chair after he'd hung up his phone. Dammit, Montalvo was twisting his arm and he wanted to tell him to go take a hike. If there was one thing he hated, it was getting into jurisdictional squabbles with other law enforcement agencies. It made him look ruthless and antagonized the organization he was riding roughshod over. He didn't want to make an enemy of the boys at Quantico. In his world you never knew when you were going to need a favor. Montalvo shouldn't have put him in this position.
Nortano's weapons cache.
God, he wanted to clean that bastard out. Nortano had been a thorn in the Colombian government's side for years and Venable's agents would have a safer path if he could be removed.
And if Montalvo said he'd give him the information, he would do it. He'd never reneged on a bargain in the years he'd known him.
Okay, the decision was made. He had to have Nortano's cache. How to go about getting it without obviously compromising the Company's jurisdiction?
Bobby Joe Windlaw. Find his body. Montalvo was right: if the kid had been murdered, then he had an excuse to draw the FBI back into the picture. If Bobby Joe had drowned, Montalvo would still have to agree that Venable had completed his part of the bargain. All right, how to find Bobby Joe. Think. Make a plan. Keep it from looking like interference. He'd done this kind of sleight of hand before. It was just more difficult on U.S. soil. He'd call in any favors he could draw on and beg, borrow, and steal if he had to. Now who could do the job in the way he wanted it done?
He suddenly stiffened in shock in his chair as the answer came to him. "Holy shit." He
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