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“Maybe somebody did notice. My team’s doing a full background check on Murphy as we speak. After we’re done here, we can go back to the office for a briefing.”

“Fine.”

John glanced over the wall and sighed. “Nazi bullshit. That’s how this stuff always turns out. Is it my imagination or are white people just nuts? Nobody else pulls this crap.”

“That’s not entirely true,” Brandy said, “but I’m not going to argue statistics with you.”

“Oh come on, don’t deny it. Murphy was a Nazi. Probably had a whole crew of ‘em living in here. It’s obvious that Murphy killed Fortress just for being black. It must be driving you nuts that she’s running around out there. Typical white-devil bullshit. I mean look at this stuff. Swastikas?”

“
White-devil
?” Brandy echoed, arching an eyebrow.

“Sure,” John said. “You know, the oppressor, the slave-owner. Don’t tell me you’re not pissed about slavery and all that. I don’t blame you. My ancestors built the railroads, you know.”

Brandy turned to face him and squared her shoulders. “Do I look like a slave to you?”

“No.”

“No, I didn’t think so. If you’re worried about slaves why don’t you go cruise through the Tenderloin, because that’s where they are. If you wanna free some slaves, go help some of those Asian girls smuggled over here in cargo containers and forced into prostitution. Or the other girls that are being smuggled into India and the Mid-east by the thousands. Slavery’s alive and well right now, Mr. Lee.”

The inspector lowered his eyes and gave her a sheepish look but Brandy wasn’t done. “Don’t assume that because I’m black, I hate white people. And don’t assume that just because Sara Murphy is a white woman, I’m going to believe what I’m looking at right now. I’m not an idiot.”

John twisted his head slightly. “What? What are you talking about?”

Brandy looked back at the wall. Her voice grew quiet, distant. “I don’t know. This just isn’t adding up.”

At that moment, one of John’s team came running up. “Sir, we have a report that Sara Murphy is headed back into the city. The Mill Valley PD are in pursuit.”

John smiled. “We got her now,” he said. “I want men waiting on the south side of the bridge. This takes priority over everything else.”

“Yes, sir.”

John turned back to Brandy. “You ready? Our crime scene investigators are more than capable of handling this alone.”

She nodded and gave the wall one last look. She wanted to investigate the house more extensively, but Sara Murphy was already on the hook and that was her priority. Brandy followed Lee out to his car.

“What are you thinking?” he said as they climbed in.

“I’m thinking we better get Murphy in custody as soon as possible. Once these pictures get out, she’s going to have more than the cops to worry about.”

Chapter 18

Stryker and his team were halfway back to their base south of Fisherman’s Wharf, the place they called the Warehouse, when Chaz heard something on the police scanner. He was sitting at his computer console, listening intently to a number of scanning devices that he’d patched into his headphones.

“They’ve found her,” he announced suddenly. “The Mill Valley PD is in pursuit. Looks like Murphy is headed back towards the city.”

“Where is she?” Stryker said.

Chaz was quiet for a minute as he listened. “She’s crossing the bridge. SFPD is waiting for her on the other side.”

“They’ve got her,” Stryker said confidently. “There’s nowhere left to go.”

Konrad, who was listening over the Com, spoke up: “If you want I could tag along,” he said. “We’re not far from the area.”

“Do it,” Stryker said. “Keep an eye on things and make sure she doesn’t give them the slip. Everybody else, let’s wrap it up. Let’s get back to the Warehouse and start packing.”

*

“Ma’am, they’re ready for you.”

That was Darlene, Wendy Paolini’s chief of staff. The young brunette gazed up at her with deep brown eyes full of admiration. Darlene dreamed of being a senator someday. She was full of hopes and aspirations, and yet amazingly pliable when it came to her values. She was one of those individuals who could convince herself that whatever she did was okay, as long as it was for a good reason. Darlene would have stabbed her own mother in the back, if Paolini told her it was for the good of the country.

Wendy had a name for people like Darlene. She called them
useful idiots
. People like Darlene could commit the most egregious acts for the good of the country, or the company, or whatever other naive belief they held about the world. If they were fervent enough in those beliefs, they could even be convinced to risk their own well-being for
the cause
. Soldiers, firefighters, police… these were all stellar examples of the useful idiot. Anyone who would put his or her ethics or well-being aside for a greater cause could be useful. It was the job of people like Wendy to find the right
cause
.

Like all politicians, Wendy made good use of the useful idiots when they were available, and then completely forgot about them when they went down in flames. It wasn’t personal. That was just the way the game worked.

Then there were the others, the
predators
. They weren’t naïve, or if they were, they were smart enough to see beyond their own preconceptions. They could be dangerous. The best way to handle a predator was to assess his potential for damage and then find his weakness. Greed, lust… these were the most common tools against the predator, both in the boardroom and in Washington D.C.

Wendy had used both techniques with remarkable success. She’d preferred greed, though. Sex was just messy. She didn’t like it. Wendy didn’t even do it with her husband unless she had to. And paying a prostitute to do it had other inherent risks.

“How do I look?” Wendy said.

“Perfect, of course,” said Darlene.

“Wish me luck.”

Darlene did as she pulled the heavy oak door open. Wendy stepped into the boardroom and walked to the head of the table. Fifteen faces stared up at her, useful idiots and predators alike. She wished it was easier to tell who was which just by looking at them.

This was the board of directors for E.L.S,
Echo Logos Systems,
the world’s largest manufacturer of cell phones and video game consoles. And they didn’t look happy.

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. I’m glad you could all make it. Has everyone had enough doughnuts?”

Allen Morgan, the Chief Financial Officer for E.L.S., rose out of his seat. “Thanks for coming, Wendy. I’ve already briefed everyone as to why we’re here. There have been disturbing rumors about an information leak coming out of China.”

“I know, I know. I’m here to assure each and every one of you that I’ve looked into these allegations, and that they are nothing of concern.”

“So you say,” Allen said. “But how do we know? I mean, this is a hobby for you. You’re a senator. If this thing blows up in our faces, you’ll still have a job. For the rest of us, this is our livelihood.”

“Allen, gentlemen, and ladies… I can assure you that I stand to lose as much as any one of you. I’ve invested everything I have into E.L.S. I’ve been on the board of directors for ten years and the CEO for five. I didn’t just float to the top. I gave this company everything.

“I assure you that I stand to lose as much as every one of you, and possibly more, if this company gets caught in a media storm.” Wendy didn’t have to feign the emotion that came to her voice. Her words were true, more so than any of them might have imagined.

If E.L.S. went down, Wendy’s political career would go right along with it. Along with the millions of dollars that she had invested in company stock. Wendy needed the dividends those stocks would pay, because it was damn near impossible to get the money offshore. The Swiss bank account trick didn’t work anymore. The best thing someone in her position could do was to move the bulk of operations overseas, into a more tolerable business environment, and then slide the profits into local accounts.

Wendy was working towards that end, but it took time. In the meanwhile, she’d made a calculated risk by investing heavily in the company. It was the best tax shelter she could use, for the moment. “I can assure you all that I’m doing everything in my power to contain this leak…”

Wendy left the boardroom twenty minutes later feeling rather proud of herself. She’d calmed their nerves and made herself out to be the fearless leader that they needed. She wasn’t as confident as she appeared, though. In fact, she was nervous as hell.

She couldn’t wait to hear that Fortress was dead.

Wendy’s cell phone rang on the way through the lobby. It was the phone number of her office in D.C. “This is Wendy.”

“Mrs. Paolini, this is Jamie Lynn Forester. I work in your Washington, D.C. office. I’m in charge of accounting.”

Paolini searched her mind. She didn’t remember hiring a woman named Jamie Lynn. Whoever the hell Jamie was, she should have known better than calling Wendy directly. “I see. Jamie, I’m very busy right now.”

“I know, I’m sorry ma’am. It’s just that I’ve found some accounting irregularities…”

Wendy’s blood went cold. “I’m sorry, who did you say you were?”

“I’m Jamie Lynn Forester, in your D.C. office.”

“And who hired you?”

“Darlene.”

“I see. Don’t touch anything, Jamie. I’ll have Darlene get in touch with you directly. We’ll get right to the bottom of this.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

Wendy hung up and she turned to her Chief of Staff. Darlene looked like a deer in the headlights. “Who is Jamie Lynn Forester?” Wendy said.

“She’s the new girl. We had to replace Brenda, remember? She got pregnant and quit.”

“I see.” Wendy’s lips pursed out as she ran her tongue along the front of her teeth. “I want you to fire her.”

“What! Why? Did she do something wrong?”

“She’s found some accounting irregularities.”

Darlene’s eyes fluttered. She wasn’t a complete fool. It was easy enough to see what was going on here. Jamie Lynn had found some issues with Paolini’s financial records, and now Paolini wanted her fired. The reason was obvious. Paolini was as crooked and corrupt as anyone who’d ever set foot in Washington.

“I don’t understand,” Darlene said.

Wendy smiled grimly. Good girl. Ask for a reason. Ask for something to ease your conscience, to allow yourself to believe you’re doing the right thing.

“I don’t trust her,” Paolini said. “She’s up to no good. She’s probably been messing with our bookkeeping records. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me if this Jamie Lynn character is a plant. She probably works for our opposition in the upcoming election.”

“I see.” Darlene took a deep breath. Acceptance.
See, wasn’t that easy?

“Good, now fire her.”

“Yes, ma’am. Will you be heading back to D.C. now?”

“No, I have a few more things to see to before I leave.”

“I have tickets for the flight at noon…”

“That’s fine,” said Wendy. “Go ahead without me. I’ll fly back alone this weekend.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

It was an election year, and Wendy Paolini had work to do back in D.C., but nothing was as important as what was going on in California. She didn’t want to leave the state until all of her loose ends were tied up. She wanted Fortress dead, and then she wanted Stryker out of the picture.

It was no coincidence that Fortress’s secret investigation had happened just before elections. He was planning an October surprise that would rock the country. Only, the surprise was going to be his, in the form of a bullet between his eyes.

Wendy’s meeting with the board of directors made a perfectly good excuse for being outside D.C. during session. Now all she had to do was spend a day or two at her house in Sacramento, wait for everything to blow over, and head back to Washington happy. And rich.

Chapter 19

Mountain Lake is a small body of water south of the Presidio on the eastern side of Highway 1. The lake is surrounded by thickly wooded hills, and is all but invisible from the road. Sara had never paid any attention to it until she emerged from the water shivering and terrified at four p.m. that afternoon. The autumn sun was already hanging low over the Pacific and shadows stretched out along the banks.

She climbed up under the trees, exhausted and chilled to the bone. She forced herself to keep moving, but kept a wary eye on the far end of the lake. Sara could see the lights of the squad cars at the edge of the highway, and the blurry shapes of cops moving up and down the embankment. She could hear their voices beneath the rumble of slow-moving diesel trucks and honking horns as traffic merged through the disaster.

The police were undermanned, trying to deal with the accident and direct traffic, and trying to find her body in the cold dark waters all at once. They were searching for her along the embankment under the trees, and along the edges of the shore, but no one guessed she’d made it to the far end of the lake so quickly. They probably thought she was still trapped in the car. Sara was well aware of the fact that as soon as the cops realized she was missing, the manhunt would begin in earnest.

She moved north, deeper into the woods, until she found a narrow paved hiking trail and followed it up a long, steady incline. She ignored the odd looks she got from joggers and bikers as she climbed the slope. At the top of the hill, she left the path and charged headlong into the north woods. Sara only had a vague idea of where she was as she plowed through the undergrowth, until she emerged at the side of a narrow, two-lane road. She staring at the southern end of the Presidio Golf Course.

From her vantage, Sara could see traffic backed up on the highway to her left and the gentle manicured slopes of the golf course rising up before her. Sara knew she was in an ideal place to disappear. Trees and hedges lined the road in either direction, surrounding the golf course and providing dense coverage along the roadways. All she had to do was pick a direction.