Read Online The Directive by Matthew Quirk - Free Book Online Page B

sidewalk where I could see him through the door.
    My phone rang again. I looked down, half wincing, expecting Annie. It was Jack.
    “What’s up?”
    “Where are you?”
    “Judiciary Square. I found Sacks.”
    “What’s he doing?”
    “Moping around like it’s the last day of summer vacation.”
    “What do you think he’s after?”
    “I don’t—” I looked back toward the building he’d approached, then backed away from. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t figured it out before. It was Judiciary Center, home to the top prosecutor in the District. “US Attorney.”
    “Oh shit,” Jack said.
    “Lynch said he’d leave him alone unless he did something rash.”
    “Snitching seems pretty rash, given what we know about Lynch. You can’t let him go in. They’ll kill him. I just wrapped a meeting. I’m not far. I’ll head over.”
    I told myself that I was doing a good deed in all this. Lynch might be watching me and Sacks right now. If he saw his inside man walk into the US Attorney’s office, Lynch was liable to do anything. There was another reason I had to stop him: if Sacks talked, my only easy way out of this—luring him back into crime—would disappear.
    Sacks didn’t order anything at the bar. After five minutes, he gave up. He stepped out onto the sidewalk in front of the fountains at the Navy Memorial. He looked up Indiana toward the courts, then back to his car.
    Just go, I willed him.
    He picked up his cell phone. I moved closer.
    It was a short call, but I was able to catch the end: “I’m coming in. I’m right across the square. Okay.”
    He started walking toward the courthouse, with a head start on me.
    My phone buzzed again. A text from Annie. “Where are you?”
    I didn’t have time to reply. As I followed Sacks back across the square, I could have sworn I saw a black Chrysler cruise down Fourth Street.
    I didn’t have time to try to turn Sacks inch by inch. I had to wrangle him in on the fly, in the heart of the criminal justice system.
    I walked fast after him as he neared the intersection. He caught a break in the traffic. I had to pause and finally just go for it. I played chicken with a US Marshal’s Escalade that braked and blared its horn as I ran across the street.
    I watched as Sacks reached the front door of the courthouse. I ran after him, but I was too late. Sacks was already going through the metal detectors, and I was at the back of the queue. Eight police officers stood between us, and it didn’t seem like a good place to shout an invitation to a criminal conspiracy.
    I waited, sweating, as they cleared me through security. I scooped up my cell phone and keys, and ran down the hallway after Sacks.
    He heard me coming, turned, and faced me with a startled look.
    Two more uniformed marshals passed us.
    “Jonathan Sacks?” I said.
    My cheeks were red from running. A bruise lingered near my right eye. I knew I looked crazy.
    “Yes,” he said, inching away as he glanced toward the nearest cops.
    “My name is Michael Ford. I’m an attorney. And I have reason to believe your life is in danger. I’m sorry to surprise you like this.”
    “Who do you work for?”
    “No one. I’ve learned some information recently. I had to warn you.”
    He started backing away.
    “Listen. If you cooperate with a prosecutor or give information right now, you’re putting yourself at risk. If I can find out what you’re doing, so can they. Please, give me five minutes of your time.”
    “This is some kind of threat?” he said.
    “The opposite. I’m here to help.”
    “Go on,” he said.
    “Not here,” I said. “I can’t tell you how dangerous it is for you, and for me, to be in this building. They have informants. If you talk, they’ll know.”
    “And how do you know all this?”
    I stepped closer. “My brother tried talking. They found out. I watched the men behind this beat him until he was unconscious. His life is in danger, too. So please, hear me out.”
    His eyes were