All In (14 page)

15

IT WAS ABOUT
ten
P.
M.
when Chas and Susannah awoke and called Fritz. She sent another agent to get them, and they met up with Fritz in her office about twenty minutes later. Fritz looked worn but peaceful. She looked like she hadn’t slept in days but was satisfied that they were on the right track.

“And how are you both?” she asked with a smile. “In better shape, I hope.”

Chas and Susannah shared a sidelong glance. They were in better shape, all right. A nap and a beautiful lovemaking session afterward were the panacea to cure all ills. They were ready for anything that came their way, and they would tackle any problem together. Chas took Susannah by the hand and said, “We’re okay now, Fritz. Thank you for giving us some private time to talk.”

“I hope you did a lot more than talk,” Fritz said with a smile. “I do have a reputation to uphold.”

Susannah smiled back and said, “Fritz, it seems you’re a bit of a romantic.”

Fritz blushed and tried to focus on patting down an unruly strand of hair. “Yes. Well. I should’ve been a matchmaker, but the FBI came calling. Made a great career. Hell on my relationships. I could’ve used Agent Hartke more times than I could count.”

They all shared a belly laugh. Then Fritz sat up, looking a bit concerned. “You know we’re not done yet,” she said, “right? I mean, we still need to find out what Buzz knows and where his network is.”

They sobered. Chas looked to Susannah to speak. “I know, Fritz,” she said solemnly. “And we’re all here to help. Just tell us what you need.”

“That’s the problem, Chas,” Fritz said, looking wearier than she had a moment before. “We’re out of ideas. I think we just sit around and wait to see what comes. Or what doesn’t. But I can’t help but feel we’re missing something.”

Chas took a breath. It had been on his mind as well. “Fritz—what has his interrogation yielded? Anything?”

“Nothing,” she said. “He won’t talk.”

“What if I talk to him?” Susannah asked. “I’d like to find out for myself what’s going on.”

Fritz paused and thought. Then she said, “I’d like you and Chas to go together. All right? And briefly. There are interrogation tactics I don’t want you to get in the middle of.”

“Yes,” Susannah said, locking eyes with Chas, “we’ll go together.”

‡‡‡

FRITZ MADE SEVERAL CALLS
and decided she would accompany them to Buzz’s holding cell in the Quantico Marine Corps brig. But when they got there, all hell broke loose. Buzz wasn’t in the Quantico brig. In fact, he couldn’t be found anywhere. After all this, it seemed Buzz Carter had outsmarted them all and escaped.

‡‡‡

TYKA AND MAHMOUD
had finished dinner and spent the evening having passionate sex in a small pensione Mahmoud had rented. They were not disappointed. They were ruthless, passionate, vicious, and feral people. This translated directly into the bedroom.

Mahmoud had some information about Gabriella and her contacts, intel from a double agent he’d been fucking. They decided to sleep for the night—in between bouts of primal sex—and do some tracking in the morning. They agreed upon one thing: They would find the criminals who had killed Gabriella. And once they did, they would kill them all.

‡‡‡

JACKSON AND LISA BEE
had just finished yet another round in Jackson’s bachelor pad in D.C. Well,
former
bachelor pad, Lisa Bee had insisted in no uncertain terms. They had gone there straight from their romp at the pool hall, and each time they were intimate, the heat turned up a notch. Listening to “Crazy for You,” Jackson said, “I am crazy for you. Totally. Perfect choice, Bee.” Lisa Bee, naked and drinking “Jackie D” straight from the bottle, laughed and said, “And I’m crazy for you. Totally.” She sobered and said, “Really, Jackson. The real you is all I want. Took me long enough to see it. And now that I’ve seen it, I’m never gonna let you go.”

Jackson smiled. “You got me, baby. You got all of me for all time.” And then they went at it again.

‡‡‡

AJ WAS STAYING
with the agent Antonio until her presence was needed at the ceremony to honor the Bod Squad, scheduled for the following week. Antonio was tall, dark, handsome, and sharp as a tack, and ever since she found out he could play the trumpet, as well as being a jazz fan, AJ’s interest had been really piqued. She was sharing his bed, though they hadn’t slept together. It was the only time in AJ’s life she’d waited to have sex, and she realized it was because something was happening between them and she didn’t want to rush it. Early the next morning, Antonio woke her with breakfast in bed—homemade waffles, mimosas, and bacon—accompanied by the stirring notes of Ella singing “Black Coffee.”
Ah yes,
she thought,
and suddenly, all is right with the world.

‡‡‡

THE BOSS HAD
a big smile on his face. There was a bunker in Maryland that had been hoppin’ all evening. He and Babs had shared yet another wonderful night. Somehow being with her always felt like home. So what if she made him sneak out the back door at five
A.M.
before her girls, her agents, her personal brigade woke up? He felt privileged to be allowed inside the soundproof walls of her inner lair. Life was good again. He’d stop by Chipotle on his way home and then pick up another classic from his favorite video store. Then he’d get back to work. And what came next for the Bod Squad? Who knew? All he knew was that they’d done one helluva job, and that would be good for business. With a skip in his step, he walked the two blocks to where he’d parked his old Chevy convertible and peeled out.

As he was driving away, he thought:
Funny. Something doesn’t feel right.
But he couldn’t place what it was. He knew there were pieces of the puzzle missing, but he couldn’t place what. They weren’t in immediate danger, but had they actually found Baba Samka? Was Buzz Carter the man behind all this? Surely Buzz wasn’t working alone, not even close. The Boss was feeling unsettled as he drove home. He’d need to get the Bod Squad together ASAP. Something was wrong, he could feel it in his gut.

At that moment, his cell rang. Buzz Carter had escaped; they had found out the night before. And they were keeping it very quiet. The Boss continued to drive, with concern now, and determination. So Buzz Carter, or whomever he worked for, was still out there. And until he was put away, no place was safe. Turning onto Fifth Street SE on Capitol Hill, the Boss decided to go to the office and start the search.

‡‡‡

SUSANNAH AND CHAS
had spent the night at her mother’s house in Alexandria, in Susannah’s childhood room. She and Chas had stayed there a couple of times before, but now it felt more important, more meaningful. They were in her old trundle bed, looking out on all her paintings, awards, stuffed animals: the keepsakes she had loved as a girl that still sat upon her shelves. Her mom had decided to stay with Fritz because the house was ripped apart, and she was scared about Buzz. Chas and Susannah said they’d put the house back together. And it gave them the chance to spend more time in each other’s arms.

Buzz’s escape was disturbing and painful. They knew they had a brilliant agent on the loose, and that he was likely Baba Samka, the criminal mastermind. It was all so frightening. But in Chas’s strong arms, Susannah felt at peace. That’s how she knew it was right. Because in the worst of times, he was her anchor.

They woke up and made love. Then Chas made her favorite breakfast: coffee with a side of bacon. Then they went to work putting the house back to rights.

‡‡‡

THE AFTERNOON LIGHT
in the kitchen was filtering through the curtains in the windows as they put away the pots and pans. Susannah looked out to the backyard: There was a swing set from when she was a girl, and the exquisite wildflower garden her mother tended. A stone fountain stood in the middle, and colored lights hung from the trees. She smiled and said in a wistful tone, “You know, Chas, I always wanted to get married right here in my mother’s backyard.”

Chas stopped what he was doing and came up behind her, holding her in his arms. He paused with his arms around her before he spoke. “Well, why don’t we? Seems like a great place.”

“Really?” she said with joy and wonder, turning to look at him. “But I thought the Harvard Club was to honor your father—”

“Honestly, sweetheart,” Chas said, taking her chin in his palm, “I think it’s more appropriate for me to honor
you
. Let’s do it here.”

“Oh, Chas! I’d love that.”

“And you know what else? Let’s do it now.”

“What? How?” she asked, startled.

“What if it was just us and your mom and the Bod Squad? Couldn’t we just do it today? The Boss is ordained to be our officiant. I bet you have some pretty dresses in your closet. And it’s gonna be one heck of a sunset.”

Susannah paused. “Well, for fuck’s sake, Charles Oakley Palmer III. You are a romantic after all.”

“It’s not that I’m a romantic, sweetheart,” he replied. “It’s just that when it comes to you . . . well . . . I’m all in.”

‡‡‡

LISA BEE AND JACKSON
were still in Jackson’s pad and were both working at their laptops . . . naked. Lisa Bee’s hair was tousled and she wore glasses. Jackson had a five o’clock shadow and a sleepy grin. Each had a cup of coffee and a shot of whiskey at the ready. And both were deeply happy.

Suddenly, Lisa Bee sat up straighter and said, “Oh, no. Oh, God, Jackie.
Fuck
.”

“What is it, Bee?” he asked, looking concerned.

“I got curious about something, something I thought I should check out, but now I’m awfully sorry I did.”

“Shit,” he said, coming around to look at her laptop. “What’s up?”

She did her shot, then his. Then looked him in the eyes. “I wanted to know where Chas got the intel and why he lied to Susannah about it.”

Jackson’s eyes narrowed. “And?”

“Legs told me that he wanted to protect her—that it was one of his old contacts from Bruni and he thought it was dangerous. Too dangerous to involve her in any way. She said she didn’t believe him. I asked her for his name and she texted it to me last night. His name is Matteo Wrenn, but he goes by the handle Birdsong, and all I could find out about him was that he’s a former pro soccer player.” She stopped and swallowed hard.

Jackson looked perplexed. “So what’s the big deal, Bee?”

“Well, when I looked further, I found that he has a house in Sicily right near where Bruni used to live.”

“Okay,” Jackson said. “But we already know he was a contact of Bruni’s right?”

“Right,” she said. “Except I came upon a picture of his house. Check out the gate. It has his initials done in wrought iron. I guess he goes by his handle . . . or, I don’t know, Jackie, but this scares the shit outta me.”

She showed Jackson the picture she had pulled up on her laptop of Birdsong’s Sicilian estate. “Oh, fuck,” he said. “You don’t think—”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t know what to think.”

“Fierce fucking work, Bee,” he said, his voice filled with awe. “I don’t know why we think you’re just ordering copy paper and keeping the books. This is top of the line.”

“Do we need to tell someone?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said. “Let’s start with the Boss. And go from there. Really fucking brilliant. You may have just turned our whole investigation on its head.”

It was small consolation for the fear they both felt. Clearly seen in the picture in front of her, framed in wrought iron, were the initials “BS.”

EPILOGUE

FIVE HOURS LATER,
Lisa Bee and Jackson showed up at the spontaneous wedding of the century. Lisa Bee had found a hot pink mini in a local thrift store, and Jackson wore dark jeans and a red shirt that said “Disco Dynamite.” Janice, Fritz, AJ, and the Boss were all there, wearing whatever they could scrape together. Only Tyka and Mahmoud were absent. It was a beautiful, sunny late-October afternoon, and they all agreed that it couldn’t be a lovelier day if they had handpicked it. Which, come to think of it, they had.

Lisa Bee squeezed Jackson’s hand as they stood together in the garden. It was the first time ever that Lisa Bee had attended a wedding with a date, and the significance wasn’t lost on her. It would have been the perfect day if they weren’t so anxious to break the news about their new lead. But shortly after they made the discovery, they’d gotten the call from Susannah about the wedding, and Jackson said he’d rather die than ruin Susannah’s wedding a
second
time. Nevertheless, they were anxious to tell the Boss and the Bod Squad what they had learned as soon as they had the chance.

Susannah wore a pale green silk dress with pink embroidered flowers on the bodice. Her hair was loosely tied back, and she had a small amount of makeup on her face. She was barefoot and carried flowers. Chas wore a simple button-down and tan slacks. They both looked radiant. Lisa Bee sighed. There was no greater wedding than one that was simple and true, and this one proved to be the simplest and truest of them all.

The Boss waited for the couple near the fountain. All the guests stood, smiling, to watch. As Susannah walked toward Chas, AJ’s speaker played a beautiful mix of romantic jazz ballads.
It’s perfect,
Lisa Bee thought.
This is the wedding Susannah has always dreamed of. And to top it all off, it’s a not-a-cloud-in-the-sky kinda day.

Lisa Bee inhaled contentedly, then looked up at the open sky above her and her breath caught in her throat. Holding Jackson’s hand, she pointed above. Jackson followed her gaze and said, “Aw,
shit
. Not again.” One by one, everyone looked up and gasped in turn. Beyond all possibility, beyond all reason, beyond all comprehension, a message appeared clear as day. Written by a skywriter, the letters fading as the smoke dispersed, a word was written on the cloudless blue. Lisa Bee’s heart sank as she pondered the message and what it meant to their lives. It had happened again. Another wonderful nuptial day had to be stopped, and stopped immediately. There was no other choice. Everyone was in agreement about that, she was sure.
Merde, merde, merde!
What a sucky way to end a perfectly good wedding.

What would happen next? Who was behind this
?
It was unclear. But like the superheroes on the cover of a cartoon, like the drawing Jackson had shown them on the plane ride to Morocco, all the members of the Bod Squad who were present moved together to stand, as if behind an invisible shield. Lisa Bee moved closer to Jackson and used her free hand to grab Susannah’s. She heard AJ murmur, “Well, if that ain’t a fuckin’ buzzkill, I don’t know what is.” The letters had faded, but they could still make out the single word:

Casablanca