Regan awoke when her hotel telephone rang with her wakeup call at 9:00 a.m. after four very short and troubled hours of sleep. She ran a quick shower and dressed for the day. After a mediocre continental breakfast downstairs, she walked two blocks over to Federal Plaza. On the way over, she made a call to Agent Casper to learn if he had any new information. She learned that they found the slug which had failed to kill Justin Knight, a .22 caliber, as they suspected. She left instructions to call if they found anything else, hung up, walked into the building, and took the elevator to the 23rd floor. After quickly checking in at the desk, she headed over to the conference room.

She walked into the room and found a man sitting at the long conference table with papers and folders spread out in front of him.

“You must be Jeffries,” she said. “I'm Catherine Regan.”

He looked up and smiled.

“Of course, Special Agent Regan. A pleasure to meet you. Please, sit down. Don't mind the mess; I like to spread out a bit.”

“Thank you. That's fine. I just checked in with my man on the scene, but he doesn't have anything new for me, other than having found the bullet. It was a .22 caliber rifle bullet, as we suspected.”

“Yes, so I've heard. I wonder why the assassin used such a low-powered weapon?”

“We all want to know that.”

“Well, I have the particulars in hand. How much do we share with the press?” Jeffries asked, changing the subject.

“I'd rather not tell them anything, but I know we can't do that. My question to you is: how little can we tell them and simultaneously downplay the incident?”

“Well, we have to acknowledge the shooting, obviously. They'll want me to confirm the identity of the man shot, but I can give them the 'ongoing investigation' line and decline to provide specifics. I'd like to tell them his condition, but I recommend we omit any references to the body armor.”

“Yes, that would raise more questions we don't want to answer.”

“What about the two kidnappings at the scene?”

“Well, that depends. What does the press say about that?”

“So far they report two agents seen taking them into protective custody. The FBI jackets the kidnappers wore fooled the press, too.”

“Good, then let's not say anything about the kidnappings at all.”

“And if I'm asked about them?”

Regan sighed. “Can you stall, avoid revealing information about them? I really prefer not to say anything at all.”

Jeffries nodded. “I may take some shrapnel on that one, but I can avoid saying anything concrete. However, if one of them figures out the kidnapping angle, that situation will change.”

“Keep your fingers crossed that it doesn't change, then!”

“I've scheduled the press conference for noon. Do you plan to attend?”

“I'd prefer not to, if possible.”

“It's not only possible, but I highly recommend you stay away. If you’re not there, it makes it impossible for a reporter to corner you on some unexpected question. In fact, you'll have to be on your guard from now on. They have your description, and if any of them spot you they'll have a microphone in your mouth within seconds. Trust me when I say you don't want that to happen. If it does happen, just keep saying 'no comment' to every question they ask. If they persist, direct them to my office.”

“Okay, then, we agree. Anything else?”

“No, that should do it,” Jeffries replied. “Leave me your card in case something comes up that requires your attention.”

She did so, shook his hand, and left the room. At least she didn't have to face all those reporters. Her cell phone rang. “Regan.”

“Special Agent Regan, this is the comm center. I have a caller on the line asking for you by name. He says he represents the Agorist Underground. Shall I put him through?”

Her heart rate accelerated a bit as she replied, “Yes, right away.”

She heard a click. “Go ahead Special Agent Regan.”

“Regan here.”

“Special Agent Regan, my name is AJ. Perhaps Lizzie told you about me?” a deep voice said.

“No, she didn't,” Regan said, her heart rate speeding up.

“Oh, well, I represent the Agorist Underground. I presume you've heard of us.”

“Yes, I know about your organization.”

“Good, that saves time. I have some good news for you. We recovered Lizzie Kohn and Michaela Knight last night.”

“What do you mean...I'm sorry, I don't know your last name.”

“Just call me AJ,” came the reply with a definite smile attached to it.

“I see. So you're the ones who kidnapped them last night, masquerading as FBI agents.”

“Come now, Regan. We didn't take them initially. We both know who did. However, we did avail ourselves of some information that came to our attention immediately after the kidnapping. We organized a counter-operation. We successfully rescued them in Harlem within the hour. If you check with the NYPD you'll discover a record of a minor incident near the Savoy Ballroom last night. We now have them under our protection.”

“And why does the Agorist Underground take an interest in this case?”

“I think you already know. We'll even meet with you to discuss next steps. We ask in return that you include Mr. Justin Knight in that discussion. We want to speak with him directly. We would prefer to do so in private, but given the fact that he currently enjoys your protection, we recognize the necessity of including you in the conversation.”

“You intrigue me. Where and when would you like to meet?”

“I’ll come to Federal Plaza.”

“FBI headquarters? Doesn't that take you into the lion's mouth?”

“Maybe,” AJ said, once again the sound of a smile evident in his voice, “but I'm willing to take that chance in this case.”

“You must want to speak with Mr. Knight very badly. I'm sure you realize that your cover will be broken if you come to our headquarters,” Regan said carefully.

“Perhaps, but that's not important. I'm a very minor person in a minor role for the AU. Even if you arrest and question me, I simply can't give you a lot of information that could compromise the AU itself. I volunteered because I believe the potential rewards outweigh the risks. Also, I care about my friend.”

“Your friend? And what rewards are you talking about?”

“That's all I'm prepared to say about that,” AJ replied. “I'm sure you understand.”

“Yes, I think I do. Very well. Shall we say 12:00 noon?”

“You have a press conference scheduled at that time.”

“You're very well informed. However, I have no plans to attend that press conference myself. One of our spokespeople will handle the press in this case.”

“Unfortunately, I have plans of my own at that time. I can meet you at 3:00 p.m. on the 23rd floor of 26 Federal Plaza.”

“3:00 p.m. then,” Regan agreed, and they disconnected.

She next took a call from one of the officers guarding Justin, and after hearing what he had to say to her and then asking Justin to wait long enough for a doctor to check him over, she called the precinct and instructed the captain on duty to arrange for Justin's release from the hospital, then to bring him to Federal Plaza by noon with a large police escort. A few minutes later, she got the word that the doctor had cleared Justin. After another brief call to Justin, assuring him he would leave soon, she arranged a secure call to the Director in Washington.

“Regan, you've had a bad night,” the Director said immediately upon connection.

“Yes, but a better morning, sir.” She told him about the call from AJ.

“At least you have the video. That should calm down our adversaries. I presume you had a copy made for the archives. I'll write an order to have it classified. When does Roone pick it up?”

“He's scheduled to pick it up at 11:00 a.m.”

“You must get him out of the office as soon as possible. You do realize that, don't you?”

“Yes, sir. You can count on me.”

“So as we suspected, they planted the tutor.”

“Yes, sir, we think so.”

“Do you have any concerns about this AJ's willingness to 'enter the lion's mouth' as you put it to him?”

“Not at all. Naturally, we hoped for this kind of entrée. His willingness to meet at our office intrigues me, but I don't think we have anything to lose by it. I assume he wants to ask Knight to join them.”

“I agree. What will you tell him if he asks whether Knight is under arrest?”

“Just that we don't recommend that he leave FBI protection. He will counter that given the circumstances, staying in FBI protection might lead to his arrest if the President orders it.”

“Precise and to the point. You have the situation well in hand. This is your first contact, Regan. You know I'm taking a risk here with this plan. Make sure nothing goes wrong, like another assassination attempt on Knight.”

Regan blushed. “Yes, that caught me by surprise. They won't catch me off-guard again.”

“As I thought. Actually, it worked out well for us. In my experience, nothing replaces sheer good luck. I want to impress upon you the importance of this mission. As you know from the briefing file you read so quickly and efficiently last evening, we have a very sensitive situation. When the President signed the executive order requiring the video's recovery without the bureau learning its contents, I believed and still believe that order unenforceable. Nevertheless, it creates a very ticklish problem. On the one hand, corporate intelligence gathering has increased to the point where it threatens our territory within the current and future administrations. On the other hand, we dare not challenge it because of the political climate regarding the banking and financial industry.”

“So, we must pretend to have retrieved the video while successfully adhering to the absurd requirement the President placed upon us.”

“I wouldn't call the requirement 'absurd' to the President's face.”

Regan smiled and said, “No, I suppose not, sir.”

“But you analyze it well I can't overemphasize the most important point however. We need to make this contact with the Agorists a complete success, without those goons at Hanover-Rush getting wind of it. Otherwise, it will permanently compromise the future value of this overture. We have an excellent opportunity before us. If we can turn first contact into an ongoing relationship, it won't only expand our intelligence gathering activities, but it will also give us a much-needed leg up on the corporate intelligence community, including Hanover-Rush's insufferable goon...er...security team.”

“Yes, sir, I understand completely. I wish we could arrest them.”

“Me too. Just between us, the President's position on this has become quite insufferable. Very good, carry on, Regan,” and he switched off.

At precisely 11:00 a.m., Nevio Roone strode into the building at Federal Plaza like he owned the place. When the guard at the desk asked him to sign in, he did so only grudgingly, his demeanor clearly suggesting his disgust. As quickly as possible he got on the elevator to the 23rd floor. Informed of his imminent arrival, Regan met him as the door opened.

“Mr. Roone,” she said, offering her hand. He shook it reluctantly. “This way,” she indicated, without preamble or greeting. She led him to an interview room down along the corridor.

“You don't want to meet in your office?” Roone challenged her with a sneer.

“I don't have an office in this building. I left my office in Washington D.C.”

Roone's face told her he didn't appreciate the implied snobbery, but he said nothing. Regan just smirked.

“Sit down, please,” she said in her coldest voice as she walked to the opposite side of the table. Once seated, she pulled a paper out of a manila folder and placed it in front of him. “This is a standard release form which we need you to sign indicating your agreement that by turning the disk over to you we meet our obligation to you.”

“Where's the disk?”

“Right here!” She pulled a CD-size disk out of the folder and placed it on the desk in front of him. The label said, “A History of the United States, vol. 5.”

“Is this a joke?”

“No, it's not a joke,” Regan replied calmly. “This is the disk on which they stored the video at the Knight estate. Apparently your second story man missed it. A pretty smart hiding place, as it turns out. Who would think to seek a video like this on a disk for a computerized educational course? It certainly fooled your guy.”

“I want to verify it before I leave,” Roone said, refusing to rise to her bait.

“Go ahead.”

“Got a computer I can use?”

“Our instructions were not to play this disk in any way. That means it can't be played on any of our computers,” Regan said with a slight smile. “You're welcome to play it on your own laptop.”

“I didn't bring one, bitch!”

“Well, that was pretty stupid of you, wasn't it?”

“Be warned, woman! You're playing with fire!” Roone stormed at her, rising to his feet and pounding the table with his fist.

Regan brought her hand out from under the table so that Roone could see the gun in her hand pointed at his crotch.

“And you're playing with your life, not to mention your private parts,” Regan said coolly. “Now sit down so we can finish our business quickly. Or shall I call in reinforcements?” she added sweetly, reaching with her other hand for the phone on the table.

Just as she picked up the receiver and reached with her index finger to press a button on the phone, he put up his hands defensively and said, “Okay, okay, keep your knickers on,” as he sat back down nervously.

She put down the phone and waited, still pointing the gun at him.

“Well,” she said, “Are you going to sign for the disk, or are you just going to sit there?”

“I'm signing, I'm signing,” he said, waving it all away as he reached for the pen she tossed on the table. After signing the form, he said, “Would you mind pointing that thing somewhere else?”

“Yes, I believe I do mind. Now take your disk and get out of here!”

“Not so fast!” he said, watching the gun out of the corner of his eyes. “We want Knight, too!”

“Justin Knight? What makes you think we plan to turn Mr. Knight over to you?”

“He stole the video!” Roone declared, rage seeping into his voice despite the gun she continued to point at him. “We intend to press charges against him. You should already have him under arrest!”

“And what evidence can you show that he stole the video?” she said quietly, oblivious to his rage. Holding a .38 pointed at him made it easier to stay cool.

“It's ours, isn't it! And he had it at that friggin' estate of his! What more proof do you need?”

“How about proof that it originally belonged to you?”

“It belongs to my bank!”

She stared at him silently. “Prove it!”

Roone glared at her, and then spat with a malevolent grin. “Do I need to ask my boss to call your boss's boss again?”

“Go ahead,” she said, offering him the phone. “It won't do you any good.”

Roone studied her face carefully like a poker player trying to spot a bluff. Regan didn't flinch, didn't even move a muscle. Roone shivered slightly. This bloody woman acted very confidently...too confident for her own good, really. What did she know that he didn't know?

He decided not to force the issue, thinking it best not to push things for the moment. He didn't really expect her to turn Knight over to him right now. Besides, if his team didn't let him down again, he expected Knight in his grasp within the hour. He signed the form, grabbed the disk, and stormed out of the room without another word.

After he left, she relaxed her posture and put the gun away. That guy will explode one of these days, and I don't want to be around when it happens.

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