Ranger: Intrepid 4.5 by Chris Allen

Author:Chris Allen [Chris Allen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781760301996
Publisher: Momentum
Published: 2016-10-20T04:00:00+00:00

DAY 4 – SUNDAY

Office of the United States National Central Bureau

Interpol Washington

Washington DC

“How goes it?” said Morgan.

“All good here,” Sheridan replied. “We’ve got a couple of things on the boil that I’m going to need you for, but we still have time before you’d have to move. How are things over there, any traction?”

“Actually, yes. If you’ve got a minute, I’d like to run something past you.”

“OK. Shoot.”

It was 10am in DC, which made it 3pm in London. Morgan wanted to update Sheridan back in London via Intrepid’s secure comms link, so he’d grabbed a desk in the operations room reserved for agents, which was co-located with the office of Melanie Vaughan, Intrepid’s recently appointed station chief at Interpol Washington. The Intrepid field office, including Vaughan’s area, was sparsely furnished, pretty much workstations, digital screens and comms tech, with a paucity of personal effects and absolutely no photographs of family or significant others. All Morgan knew about Vaughan was that she was a former senior member of the US Secret Service. She’d protected three Presidents – Clinton, Bush and Obama – and had run numerous operations targeting counterfeiting and high-tech financial crimes. She’d received a string of decorations and commendations across her career and now, recently retired from the Secret Service, she was the ideal choice for Intrepid’s representative in Washington. Officially, though, her role was simply Interpol liaison.

Morgan had briefed Vaughan on what he knew so far about Nash, Redmond and Gustafsson – along with the possibility of a connection to Budolfsen, and asked Vaughan for assistance in gathering as much intelligence as she could on all of them. Morgan also handed over all the digital images he’d captured. Finally settled in, Vaughan left him to it.

Now Morgan was stretched out in the chair with his feet up on the corner of the desk; a habit. Outside it was four degrees, raining and windy. He wondered where Nash had slept last night. Despite very carefully offering him a room, Nash had declined and said he’d be OK. Remembering Rob McDowell’s advice about respecting the boundaries, Morgan didn’t press the point. He just hoped Nash would accept his help, eventually.

“I think he’s on to something,” Morgan began. “At first I wasn’t sure. I was worried he’d gone a bit off the rails and was acting out of some kind of paranoia, but he’s as lucid as you and me. I’ll write this up and send it through because I suspect we’ll need to elevate it very soon. Meanwhile, the short version is that he has stumbled onto something that has the potential to be of significant embarrassment to the US and, depending on how long this has been going on – and I’m not yet sure exactly what is going on – it also has the potential of adding even more fire to the already volatile US/Russian relations.”

“OK, well, you have certainly piqued my interest,” Sheridan replied. “What are the headlines?”

“It all centers around this senator; a guy named Bartholomew T.

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