Blood List(36)

Gene looked to Carl, the only person who said anything close to supporting the boss's case. "What's your opinion, Carl? Cut the deal or bust him?"

"Bust him," Carl said without hesitation. "He may not be the worst of the worst, and the guy hiring him may be a hundred times more evil that he ever was, but he's got to pay for what he's done. No question, Gene. Bust him. We'll get the other guy some other way."

"Sam?" Gene asked.

"Opinions aren't my job, boss."

Gene swiveled his chair away from the group and looked up to the heavens. If the drop-ceiling tiles had any wisdom to share, they kept it to themselves. Lord, forgive me for what I'm about to do. He doubted God granted forgiveness-in-advance, and as he spun back and faced his crew, he knew that they wouldn't be forgiving him either. "I'm keeping the deal."

He held up a hand to forestall objections even before they spewed from the lips of his team. "I know you don't like it. I know you don't think it's the right thing to do. I have misgivings myself. But unless and until I say otherwise, this team is going to work with Paul Renner to find the mastermind behind the pattern-killings. He didn't have to let me go, much less come here. He'll stick around as long as we've got something he wants."

"What does he want, Gene?" Doug asked.

"Well," Gene said, "he says he wants to find the man who tried to kill him, but I'm not sure I believe him. I think it's true as far as it goes, but it's not enough for him to take a risk of this magnitude. There's something else here, and until he gets it, he'll stick around. We need to find it first, then take him down."

"You can't seriously be thinking about letting him walk around free," Jerri said.

"He'll be on a short leash, unarmed, with a locator ankle bracelet. When we're done, assuming he's cooperated fully, the deal is that we're letting him walk away." Marty opened his mouth and Gene shot him down with a look. Carl scowled. Doug looked at the floor. Gene continued. "That's not going to happen. We'll take him down when the time is right." Marty gave his brother a satisfied smile. "In the meantime, we'll work with him. This is an order. Understood?"

Each team member sounded off in the affirmative, but Gene saw not only distaste but distrust.

He pulled out his boss-voice and gave them orders. "Doug and Jerri, report to Interrogation One for the debrief. Carl, run the recording and the voice analysis. Marty, you're with me behind the glass. Sam, do your thing. Move out."

Marty lagged behind as the team filed out. Gene let the rest of the team put distance between them. With his limp, it wasn't hard. "Say what you need to, Marty, but don't you dare throw another tantrum."

Marty ran his tongue along his teeth. He breathed in, held it, then spoke. "I know you're not going to change your mind. But when that sick fucker kills or cripples somebody, you just remember that every last fucking bit of it is your doing. And when this is all said and done, if Paul-fucking-Renner gets away, every new widow and orphan he makes is because of what you're doing today. You're my brother, and you know I love you, but today you just make me sick."

Gene let Marty shoulder past him on his way out. I know. God help me, I know.



* * *



January 6th, 7:22 PM PST; Interrogation Room A, Front Street FBI Building; San Diego, California.



Jerri waited while Carl finished his work. Doug stood at the door.

"So if I stay super-calm, I can fool this thing, right?" Paul asked as Carl attached electrodes to his arms and chest.

"This isn't a polygraph," Carl said. "And besides, even if it was, despite what you see in Steven Seagal movies, you can't fool them. They're highly accurate, and the vast majority of false positives and negatives are a result of user error. I've personally run a number of…." He continued to ramble despite the fact no one seemed to be listening to him.

I wonder what all that stuff is, Jerri thought. Interrogation One was packed with recording devices and sensors, some sort of medical monitoring device, and Carl's ubiquitous Black Box; a battered black briefcase that contained a variety of devices Jerri didn't think she could pronounce much less understand.

Carl left and closed the door behind him.



Gene watched through the glass as Carl exited the interrogation room and stepped into the viewing room. "No video?" Marty asked.

"Don't need it," Carl responded. "First of all, he won't consent to being video-recorded, and as a non-hostile, we have to respect his wishes." His eyes flicked toward Gene, then back. "Second, you can catch all the visual cues you want through the glass, but if he lies, I'll know it." He flipped open his laptop and scanned the displays.