found. The keyword Price was showing up on two separate cases filed on the same day, just a few hours apart. One, the last name of the missing American woman, and another on the pendant found near where the old woman had reported suspicious activity.”
Blackwell considered this. “So she figured it was a careless error?”
“Right. She reported the anomaly to the Commissioner, and that ’ s when he realized the two events were connected. Our Consulate in Rome was alerted and they ran Julia ’ s passport details from the copy the Italians had. When they figured out who she was, we got involved.”
Monica thanked Nishimura and motioned for him to take a seat.
Blackwell scanned the group to get a sense of whether there was a cohesive theory on who was behind all of this. “Any idea who we ’ re dealing with?”
Monica took the lead. “The official line is it ’ s anybody ’ s to claim. The Iranians, organized crime, a homegrown option, and even Anonymous, the hacktivist group—if the guy in the van was indeed wearing a smiling Guy Fawkes mask. Overall though, nothing ’ s spiked in the intel chatter to suggest one over the other. Which brings us to the unofficial assessment, Alex—we have no fucking idea.”
Robert Slant raised his hand to speak. Blackwell found it incredible that the most experienced person in the room felt he needed permission to give his two cents ’ worth. Slant had been out there trailblazing the CIA ’ s counteroffensive against the global threat of Islamic Jihad back when Nishimura wasn ’ t old enough to wipe his own snot.
At just over sixty now, Slant was a little rounder on the edges than when Blackwell had first met him nine years ago at a joint task force of the federal agencies. His square jaw now had jowls, but his sapphire eyes were still impenetrable. They were his windows to all the mayhem in the world he must have seen to turn every hair on his head white.
“It ’ s not politically correct these days to point the first finger at the Middle East option, but this is not the work of organized crime, let alone a bunch of hackers. This has Islamic Jihad written all over it. There, I said it.”
Blackwell usually trusted Slant ’ s intuition. But it made no sense to just focus on phantom suspects when they didn ’ t have anything concrete to go on. At this stage, background on the targets of this offensive—Senator William Price and his younger brother Mark would be just as good of a place to start. Without understanding the motives of the criminal, there could be something to learn by scrutinizing the victims. And he doubted this was about Julia—she was just a means to an end. It was her father or uncle they were after. Or both.
As if she had read his mind, Monica steered the briefing in that direction. “I guess we should tell Alex a little bit more on the fabulous Price brothers.”
This is why Monica had risen through the ranks of the Bureau. The ability to invade people ’ s minds and predict their thoughts and behavior was not a bad trick to bring to the FBI Christmas party. But it also made her a first-rate manipulator.
Nishimura got up to take this one and spoke with the same nonchalance that seemed to characterize him. It wasn ’ t indifference, but a subtle form of disassociation that Blackwell was all too familiar with. To protect themselves, many agents develop a thick exterior to help them mine through the worst aspects of the job. The parts that over time eroded your humanity.
“Both Navy boys, like their dad. Wealthy Ivy Leaguers. Mark worked the weapons industry until he hung out his own shingle. Senator William Price, on the other hand, followed the campaign trail like his old man. And he ’ s been squeaky clean all his life until last year.”
“What happened?”
“WikiLeaks released a cable from the US mission in Iraq. It suggested William Price was trying to pull strings for his kid brother.”
“For more business?”
“Nah—to
Blackwell considered this. “So she figured it was a careless error?”
“Right. She reported the anomaly to the Commissioner, and that ’ s when he realized the two events were connected. Our Consulate in Rome was alerted and they ran Julia ’ s passport details from the copy the Italians had. When they figured out who she was, we got involved.”
Monica thanked Nishimura and motioned for him to take a seat.
Blackwell scanned the group to get a sense of whether there was a cohesive theory on who was behind all of this. “Any idea who we ’ re dealing with?”
Monica took the lead. “The official line is it ’ s anybody ’ s to claim. The Iranians, organized crime, a homegrown option, and even Anonymous, the hacktivist group—if the guy in the van was indeed wearing a smiling Guy Fawkes mask. Overall though, nothing ’ s spiked in the intel chatter to suggest one over the other. Which brings us to the unofficial assessment, Alex—we have no fucking idea.”
Robert Slant raised his hand to speak. Blackwell found it incredible that the most experienced person in the room felt he needed permission to give his two cents ’ worth. Slant had been out there trailblazing the CIA ’ s counteroffensive against the global threat of Islamic Jihad back when Nishimura wasn ’ t old enough to wipe his own snot.
At just over sixty now, Slant was a little rounder on the edges than when Blackwell had first met him nine years ago at a joint task force of the federal agencies. His square jaw now had jowls, but his sapphire eyes were still impenetrable. They were his windows to all the mayhem in the world he must have seen to turn every hair on his head white.
“It ’ s not politically correct these days to point the first finger at the Middle East option, but this is not the work of organized crime, let alone a bunch of hackers. This has Islamic Jihad written all over it. There, I said it.”
Blackwell usually trusted Slant ’ s intuition. But it made no sense to just focus on phantom suspects when they didn ’ t have anything concrete to go on. At this stage, background on the targets of this offensive—Senator William Price and his younger brother Mark would be just as good of a place to start. Without understanding the motives of the criminal, there could be something to learn by scrutinizing the victims. And he doubted this was about Julia—she was just a means to an end. It was her father or uncle they were after. Or both.
As if she had read his mind, Monica steered the briefing in that direction. “I guess we should tell Alex a little bit more on the fabulous Price brothers.”
This is why Monica had risen through the ranks of the Bureau. The ability to invade people ’ s minds and predict their thoughts and behavior was not a bad trick to bring to the FBI Christmas party. But it also made her a first-rate manipulator.
Nishimura got up to take this one and spoke with the same nonchalance that seemed to characterize him. It wasn ’ t indifference, but a subtle form of disassociation that Blackwell was all too familiar with. To protect themselves, many agents develop a thick exterior to help them mine through the worst aspects of the job. The parts that over time eroded your humanity.
“Both Navy boys, like their dad. Wealthy Ivy Leaguers. Mark worked the weapons industry until he hung out his own shingle. Senator William Price, on the other hand, followed the campaign trail like his old man. And he ’ s been squeaky clean all his life until last year.”
“What happened?”
“WikiLeaks released a cable from the US mission in Iraq. It suggested William Price was trying to pull strings for his kid brother.”
“For more business?”
“Nah—to
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