21

U.S. STATE DEPARTMENT HEADQUARTERS, WASHINGTON, D.C.

WEDNESDAY, 8:55 A.M. EST

Ryker!” Landon Parker barked. The Secretary of State’s chief of staff was standing again in Judd’s doorway. “I’ve gotten another call from Congressman Shepard Truman. You need to go to Nigeria,” Parker ordered.

“I’ll have an update for you soon on Jason Saunders. I don’t think going overseas will be necessary. I’ve spoken with the FBI, consular services, and the embassy in London. It seems his employer HHQ—”

“No, no, no,” Parker interrupted, shaking his head. “Truman didn’t call about that, Ryker.”

Judd cocked his head to one side and winced. “Not Saunders?”

“Keep working on that case. Sure. Keep at it. But right now I’ve got another one for you. This is strictly close-hold for now.”

“Another one what?”

“Tunde Babatunde has been kidnapped.”

“The basketball player?”

“In Lagos. Roughly three hours ago. It hasn’t hit the press yet, but when it does, they’ll go bananas. The team’s owner called Truman, and Truman called me.”

“And that’s why you’re here now,” Judd added.

“Exactly. I need you to get Babatunde back before anything goes public. Let’s end the story before it starts. Seal it before it leaks. Kill it before it crawls.”

“So Saunders bumped the South China Sea, and now Babatunde is bumping Saunders? Is that right, sir?”

“You’re my firefighter, Ryker,” Landon Parker said, taking a seat and shoving a stick of gum in his mouth. “I need someone who can handle hostage negotiations without getting the press involved, without creating some interagency circus that gets bogged down. We’re going to need Shepard Truman on the House Oversight Subcommittee. I’m sure you understand how important it is that he knows State is being helpful on this. So that’s why I need you.”

“Got it.”

“One of the owners of the Brooklyn Nets, Harvey Holden—”

“Harvey Holden from HHQ?” Judd interrupted. “The same firm where Jason Saunders works?”

“I don’t know.”

“Isn’t that a coincidence?” Judd scowled.

“Ryker, I’ve been in government too long to believe in conspiracies. All I know is that Holden wanted to bring in a private security outfit to handle hostage negotiations and execute the exchange. But I told him no ransom, no outside contractors. Let us get him back safely. Give State a chance to turn this disaster story into one about a hero. He’s given us forty-eight hours.”

“Two days? That’s impossible.”

“Well, that’s what you’ve got, Ryker. Until Friday morning. The team wanted to call in the newspapers and the mercenaries. Truman promised the owner that we would handle it quickly and quietly.”

“And that’s why you’re here,” Judd said.

“That’s why I’m here,” Parker repeated. “Get Babatunde back before anyone knows he’s gone.”

“No press, no interagency, no circus,” Judd said.

“And no ransom,” Parker said, popping in a second stick of gum. “The United States government doesn’t pay ransom.”

“Hostage negotiations aren’t my expertise. You know that, right, sir?”

“You got the four soccer dads back from Cuba. Just do it again.”

“Don’t you think that this would be better handled by the FBI—”

“The FBI’s out,” Parker said dismissively. “They already screwed the pooch on this one.”

“What do you mean, ‘already’?”

“I can’t share any details. Hell, I’m not even supposed to know. But I think you should know. The FBI has been conducting a sweeping covert investigation of corruption in foreign embassies here in Washington. Ambassador Katsina, Nigeria’s representative here in D.C., is one of the targets. It’s damn inconvenient timing.”

“Ambassador Katsina? Is she corrupt?”

“Who the hell knows?” Parker shrugged. “But we sure as shit need the Nigerians right now. With Boko Haram. With these attacks on oil facilities. The peacekeeping operations in Sudan, Kosovo, and Lebanon. They’re rotating onto the UN Security Council next year. We’re going to need Nigerian cooperation on about a dozen critical issues of national security. Guns, drugs, terrorism—you name it and we’re working with the Nigerians on it. The FBI’s timing is total shit, Ryker. Whatever has the FBI all spun up about Katsina, it can’t possibly be as important as what we’re trying to do. I need Ambassador Katsina right now.”

“You need her? On what?”

“On everything, Ryker. She’s my backchannel to Aso Rock, to the Nigerian President. When I need to talk to him, to get something done, I call her, and she makes it happen. You get that, right?”

“Of course, I do, sir. We’re going to need the Nigerians to help get Babatunde back, too. If the FBI wraps up Ambassador Katsina, that’ll definitely complicate matters. I wouldn’t expect any cooperation if we detain their ambassador.”

“Exactly my point, Ryker. You get it. That’s why it can’t be the FBI on Babatunde. It has to be you.”

“Can you get them to delay any arrests, at least until we’ve got Babatunde home safely?”

“The FBI Director is going to throw a shit fit if another department tries to tell him how to run a criminal sting. I’m not even supposed to know about it. But I’ll find a way to hold them off. I’ll buy you a day or two, but probably not much more.”

“I can’t do this by remote control. I’ll have to go to Nigeria,” Judd said. He’d turned on the mental faucet, his mind filling with a long list of people he’d need to speak with before he was wheels up: the Nigeria desk officer, the hostage specialist at the crime bureau, the regional security officer, Jessica, Sunday, and . . .

“That’s what I said when I walked in here, Ryker,” Parker said, standing up to leave. “You need to go to Nigeria.

“I’m ready. But I don’t think I have enough time to get to Lagos, even if I catch the flight—”

“Already thought of that. You’re going private.”

“A private plane?”

“Courtesy of Harvey Holden. His long-range Gulfstream is already on its way. It’ll be at the executive terminal at Dulles and ready for the flight to Lagos at noon. That’s in three hours.”

“Is that even allowed? Can a State employee take a private plane on official business?”

“Unclear,” Parker said. “But if we wait for the lawyers to give us a ruling, it’ll be too late. Sometimes it’s better to ask for forgiveness than seek permission.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I knew you’d get it, Ryker. Let my office know if you need anything else.”

“Just one thing, Mr. Parker,” Judd said. “My chances of success—our chances of success—would be greatly increased if I had a capable partner.”

“Who? You want Gordon from policy planning?”

“No. I need someone from law enforcement.”

“I just told you that the FBI is out, dammit.” Parker spit his gum into the wastebasket. “Weren’t you listening, Ryker?”

“Not the FBI. Someone from the Justice Department.”

“Justice? Who?”

“I need someone special. I need Special Agent Isabella Espinosa.”