The Sixth Man (Sean King & Michelle Maxwell 5)

“Or have you never personally been to Cutter’s? Maybe you just let your lackeys do all the recon. Well, they have the diesel backup generator but they also have solar backup. It’s not all that powerful. Can’t run the facility. Can’t even power the fence. But it can run the cameras for up to twenty-four hours.”

“Solar backup?” Quantrell said slowly.

“So they got really good pictures of all of your guys. Really good ones. Even in their fake FBI gear the images were very revealing.”

“You’re not going to spin this, Bunting,” said Quantrell, but his voice was weak.

“What I’m trying to do, Mason, is give you an out.”

Quantrell had to laugh. “Not that I need an out, but why the hell would you do that?”

“Two of the guys caught on the cameras were identified as having worked for you in the past, Mason. The recent past. Were you that hard up for hired help that you couldn’t send in sterilized personnel? I mean, I know you have the director in your pocket, but it’s the little details that are the most important. So you blew it on two fronts: camera oversight and using traceable goons.”

“I don’t believe a word of what you’re telling me.”

“I don’t blame you, actually.”

Quantrell looked up as a man appeared in his office doorway. It was his head of security. He was shaking his head, his features edged with failure.

Quantrell dismissed him with a sharp wave of his hand.

“Mason, are you still with me? Did your security guy just report back failure to you?”

Quantrell almost knocked his chair over as he jumped up and looked wildly around his office for a set of eyes, electronic or human, peering at him from somewhere.

“Calm down, Mason. Just calm down. I can’t see you. I just know you. I know you very well. You’re predictable with a capital P.”

“What the hell game are you playing, Bunting?” Quantrell yelled into the phone.

“No game, Mason. But it’s obvious you have no interest in what I have to say. Now when Foster’s men come to arrest you, what are you going to do?”

Quantrell’s gut clenched so hard this time, he nearly doubled over. “Foster?”

“Did you really think you were going to walk away on equal terms with her? She’s way too smart for that.”

Quantrell slumped in his chair. “What are you getting at?”

“It was your guys who did all the heavy lifting, am I right? Planted the six bodies in Edgar’s barn. Killed Murdock, Dukes—”

“Now wait just a minute.”

“She played you, Mason. And now it’s unraveling, so she’s activated her survival plan. She’s going to wipe the floor with you. Poor, trusting Cabinet secretary and sleazy defense contractor. Don’t feel bad. It’s not that original. It’s the same trap you laid for me. At least I was nimble enough to get the hell out of town. You, on the other hand, are sitting in your big, fancy office with a bull’s-eye on your head.”

“You… there is no proof. I can… I have friends. Allies.”

“Yeah, I thought I had them, too. That is, before Foster turned them all against me. Which is what she’s probably doing to you right now. And you know how persuasive the lady can be. I wonder if she’s met with the president yet to update him on your treachery?”

“What treachery?” Quantrell snapped.

“Oh, didn’t I tell you? The memory cards from the surveillance cameras were delivered to her this morning along with a detailed report of what they represent. You see, I had a secret asset still at Cutter’s who came through for me in the clutch. Just call it a nice present from me. It’ll be more than enough for an indictment. Your business will be disqualified from performing any more government work, and since that’s all you do, you have no more business. But you won’t care. You’ll be in a federal cage where big, tough guys with time on their hands will want to get to know you very well.”

“But I can take that bitch Foster down. I can—I know things—”

“She’s too smart for that, Mason. He said, she said. And she’s a Cabinet secretary, and your reputation proceeds you. And it’s not a good one. Why do you think she chose you to work with, you moron?”

The blood slowly drained from Quantrell’s face as this all sank in. He licked his lips and said slowly, “You spoke about an out.”

“Yeah, I did. Want to hear it?”