Depth Charge by Slater Jack

Author:Slater, Jack [Slater, Jack]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: thriller, Adventure
Amazon: B0821NMF2S
Goodreads: 49204377
Published: 2020-02-29T08:00:00+00:00

30

The diner wasn’t actually a relic of the 1950s, though it was trying hard to appear that way. The waitresses – because they were all female – all wore their hair pinned up, and Americana coated the walls. The only concession to modernity was a small television mounted just over the long breakfast bar, tuned to ESPN and showing basketball highlights.

“What can I get you two?”

“Coffee, black,” Trapp muttered, his mind still turning over the problem which had driven him out of the creativity-stifling environs of the federal lockup in search of fresh air and caffeine.

“I’ll take the same,” Pope added. He slid the sugar dispenser across the burnished steel surface of the booth’s table. “And this needs a refill.”

“Sure thing, honey.” The waitress smiled, twirling a non-existent strand of hair like a high school girl, not a woman nearing sixty years of age. “Anyone tell you you’re a real cutie? You dye your hair like that?”

The FBI agent’s fingers jumped self-consciously to the streak of white above his left temple, though he disguised the reaction by running them through his hair. “Glad you think so,” he said.

Trapp grinned as she turned away, walking with a spring in her step. “Looks like you got yourself an admirer.”

“Kiss my ass,” Pope replied. “She’s twice my age.”

“She was once,” Trapp agreed, his eyes twinkling. The phone in his pocket buzzed, and he pulled it out, frowning as he saw the name that flashed up on its display. “Hold up, I gotta take this.”

Pope slouched back. “Saved by the bell, huh?”

Trapp accepted the call and put the phone to his ear. The voice on the other end, clipped and well spoken, dispensed with any formal greeting. “Jason, I think I have something that may interest you.”

“Go on.”

Hamza continued, though he sounded a little put out at Trapp’s lack of overt curiosity. “We got a match on the fingerprint you gave us.”

“What the hell took so long?”

A prolonged silence was the only reply.

“I see,” Trapp mused. “It didn’t take long. You’ve been sitting on it.”

More silence.

The waitress dropped off two steaming cups of filter coffee, spilling a few drops on the steel top and wiping them up with a cloth stored in the front of her apron. She disappeared with a final longing look at Pope, who rolled his eyes at Trapp the second he was presented with the safety of her departing back. There was a hint of intrigue in the man’s eyes, but he was professional enough not to raise it while Trapp was still occupied.

“I’ll presume whatever it is, it’s something you didn’t want us to know. Ipso facto, it’s something that makes you look bad. How am I doing so far?” Trapp asked.

The sound of the Saudi intelligence officer’s teeth grinding together as Trapp needled his pride wasn’t actually audible, but it might as well have been. “You’re on the right track,” he said.

Trapp chewed his lip, then nodded as it came to him. “I get it. He was one

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