Bunting ignored him and said to Foster, “Secretary Foster. Again, I have to tell you that I’m extremely uncomfortable with having my chief competitor in the room during a confidential discussion.”
She said demurely, “Peter, we have no secrets from each other, do we?”
“Actually we do. I employ a large number of people who perform very specialized work using procedures, protocols, proprietary soft- and hardware, algorithms, and the like that I have spent years and a great deal of money creating.” He glanced at Quantrell, who continued to stare at him with what appeared to be an amused expression, making Bunting want to reach across the table and strangle him.
Quantrell said, “Well, Pete, under the current structure with the E-Program, all of your competitors have to send off their data collections for your use. I spent a lot of money putting my business together, too. But I share.”
On the contrary, Bunting knew that Quantrell had made only a pretense of doing this over the years and was still collecting his government check. He had simply been waiting for any chance to take Bunting down. And it was clear he thought he had one now.
“Well, Mason, I’m sure if you’d been the one to come up with the E-Program you’d be smart enough to know it’s far better than the way we all used to operate in the Dark Ages. That was when you were top dog on the private-sector side and everybody was going in a hundred different directions at once. You know, when 9/11 happened?”
Quantrell’s patronizing smile faded and he snarled, “You have no idea who you’re dealing with, you little prick.”
“Okay, boys, we don’t have time for schoolyard posturing,” Foster admonished.
Bunting sat across from them and waited expectantly.
Foster entered her password and tapped some computer keys, read the information revealed on the screen, and showed it to Quantrell. He glanced over at Bunting and nodded.
If they were trying to intimidate him, thought Bunting, they were doing a spectacular job of it. But his face remained unreadable. He could play this game, too.
“Do we have an agenda?” he asked. “For the meeting?”
Foster motioned for him to wait just a moment while it appeared she was sending an e-mail. She closed the laptop and looked up at him.
“I do appreciate your meeting on such short notice, Peter.”
“Certainly, whatever I can do,” replied Bunting grudgingly.
She placed her elbows on the table. “I have one pertinent question and I’d like an honest reply.”
Bunting gazed blankly at her. “I hope that you believe I am always honest with you.”
“As it turns out, the question isn’t that difficult, but the answer may well be.” She paused. “Did you have Edgar Roy’s lawyer, Ted Bergin; his secretary, Hilary Cunningham; the director of Cutter’s Rock, Carla Dukes; and FBI Special Agent Brandon Murdock murdered?”
Bunting’s brain momentarily shut down. Then he literally shouted, “Of course I didn’t! I can’t believe you’d even ask the question.”
“Please calm down. Now do you know who did kill them? If so, we really need to know.”
“I don’t have people murdered. I have no idea who did it.”
“Bluster won’t work. Do you know who killed them?” she asked again.
Bunting eyed Quantrell. “Why is he here?”
“Because I asked him to be here. In fact, he’s been quite helpful in piecing some things together for DHS.”
Bunting put a hand on the table to steady himself. “What sort of things?”
“Let’s just say that Mr. Quantrell’s people have done some digging and uncovered some interesting facts.”
“Such as?” demanded Bunting.
“Not prepared to discuss them with you right now.”
“If you’re making accusations, I think I have every right to know what they’re based on.” He shot a furious glance at Quantrell. “Particularly if this guy is involved. He’d kill his own mother to win back the business I took from him because I was smarter than he was.”
Quantrell rose and looked as though he was about to leap over the table at Bunting.