His investors, with their illicit activities, frequently had trouble using regular banks throughout the world. Large cash deposits were questioned, and large cash withdrawals even more so. Jonah, with the structure of the Desert Indigo hedge fund, had been able to circumvent that issue for his investors.

  It was a simple process. Jonah had negotiated a contract with the Century Nation Bank in the Cayman Islands. All cash deposits were presented there and deposited into a shell corporation owned by Jonah. From there, they were instantly transferred to the Desert Indigo account, only spending a microsecond in Jonah’s shell account. That was the first step to legitimacy. Once in the Desert Indigo account, the cash was transferred to several different investment houses where Jonah did his trading. Within moments, cash that had been dirtied by drugs, sex trafficking, arms deals, and a hundred other crimes was clean as a whistle.

  Once the money was in the system, newly cleaned and untainted from his client’s business dealings, Jonah was able to invest it. Hedge funds operating in the United States weren’t required to register with the SEC. Desert Indigo had a simple limited liability company structure with Jonah at the helm.

  The best part of Desert Indigo was that like every other hedge fund, people had to be invited to participate. No average Jack or Jill off the street could join. After Jonah had stumbled upon his first two investors, Venezuelan oil investor, Gonzalo Laguna, and import-exporter Ercan Onan, those two men had recommended others who had the same cash needs that Gonzalo and Ercan’s companies did.

  Jonah had been able to invest Desert Indigo heavily in strong American companies like FedEx, Walmart, Alcoa, Caterpillar, AMEX, Goldman Sachs, Johnson & Johnson, and Walt Disney – all icons of American ingenuity in industry. His clients were industry leaders too, just not in industries that were well recognized or respected throughout the globe. Their structure allowed them to bring in cash that people like Ercan Onan and Gonzalo Laguna had acquired from real estate transfers, drug manufacturing, weapons, sex trafficking, and even illegal shipments of consumer goods, like oil and natural gas. As far as Jonah could tell, the black market was alive and well, perhaps even more so than the legal market. And no one seemed to care as long as Desert Indigo had plenty of money to invest in the stock market.

  And they did.

  Darden cleared his throat, “I have ten million to add to my portfolio and I need to withdraw five.”

  Jonah squinted at the screen, taking a moment to wipe his glasses off on the hem of his pressed white shirt. He wasn’t wearing a tie that day, only a pair of pressed khaki pants and a shirt to the office with a pair of scuffed brown loafers he’d had since college. Though he wasn’t dressed up, he always kept a clean suit in his office in case he needed to meet with the client at the last moment. Or more correctly, his assistant, Cynthia, made sure it was always available to him. Luckily, Darden was only a phone call and nothing more. “We can certainly arrange for that. When did you want to make the deposit?”

  “We’ll have the cash at the docks at two a.m.”

  “That’s fine. I’ll alert the bank and they will have a team ready to receive your deposit. And the five million you need moved, will that be going to your account in Switzerland?”

  “Yes. Can you get it there today?”

  Jonah stared at his screen, quickly adding a transfer request out of Darden’s portion of the hedge fund and moving it to his Swiss account.

  “While I have you on the phone, Darden, I see that you have about twenty-five million that we need to get invested. You have any cash needs over the next six months? The transfer window is about to close and then you’ll be locked in until the end of the year.”

  “Keep ten million in cash. We’re flush other than that.”

  “Business is good then, I suspect?”

  “Yes, very good,” Darden responded in a thick accent

  Confirming the transfer, Jonah said, “All right, Darden. You are all set. I’ll have Cynthia send along the confirmation and the bank will see you at two o’clock this coming morning for the drop-off of your deposit. Please do feel free to call if you need anything else. Cynthia and I are always here to help.”

  The call ended with Darden’s silence.

  31

  Senator Shelley Stewart had a pit in her stomach she simply couldn’t get rid of.

  She’d spent the last few hours sitting in a Senate intelligence hearing. She’d tried antacids, ginger ale, and mint tea, all of which kept her assistant running. None of it was working.

  Being on the Senate Intelligence Committee was one of the many intersections between her work as a Senator and Tom’s work for the CIA. More than once, they’d spent half the day together without saying a word to each other besides answering a few basic questions. Normally in the closed-door hearings, Shelley stayed quiet, letting the other senators ask their questions if Tom was testifying, trying not to get defensive of Tom when one of the opposition party members went after him. It was all bluster anyways. Most of the people that she served with on the intelligence committee had been to their house for multiple barbecues, cocktail parties, and weekend dinners. They all made it look good for their constituents, acting irritated and hitting on all the necessary talking points, especially when the TV cameras were in their faces, but behind closed doors, things were usually congenial. Usually.

  The meetings that morning had been particularly dry and boring. Tom wasn’t there. They’d received a briefing from liaisons with the FBI, NSA, and the Army on the status of North Korea. In her mind, North Korea was so far away from a legitimate threat that she wasn’t exactly sure why they paid any attention to the country at all. Let them blow off a few missiles. No one really cared anyway.

  Shelley stabbed at the legal pad in front of her with the pencil in her hand, making little dots on the paper. Then the tip broke. She set the pencil down, hoping that no one noticed her agitation at sitting still for so long. As she looked up, she caught the eye of Senator Jeff Akers directly across from her on the other side of the room. He smiled, raising his eyebrows. She gave a slight shrug. He looked down and then refocused on the Army general who was finishing his presentation.

  Two minutes later, the noise of the gavel clapped against the wooden pad where it rested. Senator Linette Riggs closed the meeting. “This hearing is adjourned, everyone. Thank you for your time.”

  Shelley stood up, smoothing the black skirt down over her legs. She took a few halting steps forward, feeling like her body had stiffened while she sat. Having one leg shorter than the other didn’t make moving any easier. She gathered up her paper, the broken pencil, the files she brought with her, and her bottle of water and shoved everything into her bag, along with her cell phone. She was just turning to leave when she heard a voice behind her.

  “Shelley?”

  Senator Riggs was calling behind her. Shelley stopped and waited for her colleague. Senator Linette Riggs was a veteran. She’d served in the Air Force, although in what capacity, Shelley couldn’t remember. Linette had scratched and clawed her way to becoming Chair of the Senate Intelligence Committee. It was a high honor, one that Shelley was sure Linette wouldn’t have even been considered for if she wasn’t a veteran. Being former military did have perks when it came to working in Washington, DC. That hadn’t been an option for Shelley with her leg, but she was happy another woman was getting to run the intelligence committee. It was a rare feat.

  When she’d first met Linette, they’d spent the first few months figuring each other out, dodging each other like boxers in a ring, taking sporadic jabs at each other. Then after a working dinner one night that Shelley had been more than hesitant to attend, the two women had finally found their footing over containers of cold Thai food, sharing their career goals and their struggles with maintaining family and relationships and work at the same time.

  “I wanted to check in with you. I’ve been hearing something strange,” Linette said, speaking quietly, as she set her overflowing briefcase onto the chair next to where Shelley was standing.

  Shelley frowned, shifting her weight to her longer leg, “About what?”

  Linette looked over her shoulder in both directions as if she was checking to see who was nearby. Everyone except for the Capitol Hill police officer posted in the room had left. The officer wouldn’t leave the room until she and Linette did. “It’s about Tom, Shelley. I have quite a few friends on the banking committee and one of them pulled me aside. He knows we're friends. I guess they requested the CIA do a deep dive into some banking irregularities they found having to do with hedge funds that are operating out of New York. They’ve made the request a bunch of times and Tom has yet to provide them with data. Treasury already responded. People are getting nervous, Shelley. I thought you should know…”

  Linette didn’t wait for Shelley to provide a defense or an answer. She picked up her briefcase, shrugged it over her shoulder and glanced back at Shelley as she walked away, raising her eyebrows. Shelley stared at the floor. Tom. She’d told him months ago to deal with Desert Indigo, to get them out, to legitimize what he’d done in some way. Once people were suspicious it was nearly impossible to stop the speculation. Tom hadn’t taken care of the problem and now questions were being asked.

  Gritting her teeth, Shelley picked up her briefcase, pushed her chair in, and walked out of the briefing room. She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and typed a quick text to Tom, “Linette grabbed me. People are starting to ask questions.”

  Shelley was intentionally vague. Tom would know exactly what she was talking about. And if anyone ever asked what the problem they were referring to, Shelley would make up some lie. That’s what politicians did, after all.

  32

  Tom raced back to Langley after his impromptu meeting with Ercan, stopping by the desk of the agent in charge of the Eastern Bloc, Elena Lobranova. He bent over her desk and whispered in her ear, “Elena, can you please pull the border patrol routes for the next week between Russia and Mongolia? I need whatever you can get for me in the next hour. Keep it off the books.”

  The faintest glimmer of concern crossed Elena’s face as he made the request, but she didn’t say anything, giving him a quick nod, “Of course, sir. I’ll have it for you shortly. Should I email it?”

  “No. Put it in a file.”

  In the digital age, it had become more and more common for there to be issues with digital transactions. Many crime organizations had gone back to doing things on paper, the old-fashioned way, using ledgers and notebooks like generations past. The CIA and other spy agencies had begun to do the same, keeping their most sensitive information on paper, where it could be quickly burned, shredded, or otherwise destroyed, unlike digital copies. Storing something on a computer, even something as simple as sending an email, was like writing it on a stone tablet. It could never be destroyed. There always seemed to be a copy of it somewhere on some server where it could be leveraged.

  Tom strode away, looking at his cell phone. He’d gotten a curt message from Shelley telling him to take care of his problem because people on the hill were starting to ask. Another message from an anonymous number that he knew was Ercan telling him to bring the information back to a park at lunchtime that day. Tom shook his head. How had he gotten in the position of being Ercan’s gopher?

  Tom knew the answer to that and so did Travis Bishop, and it wasn’t just Desert Indigo…

  The next three hours went by quickly. Tom settled into his office, dealt with some emails, and attended a meeting of department and division heads who brought him up to date on a few ongoing operations that were happening that week. Luckily, there was nothing pressing. By the time he got back to his office, and settled in front of his computer, Elena was in his doorway. She knocked on the frame of the door, which was open, getting Tom’s attention.

  Elena had become one of his best agents, leading the analysis of Russia and the Eastern Bloc states. She was also a good friend of Travis Bishop’s, and the irony of that wasn’t lost on Tom.

  She approached his desk, setting a file down on his desk, her expression neutral, although Tom guessed she had questions. They weren’t asked. “I prepared the information you asked me for, sir. I had it a couple of hours ago, but you were tied up and I didn’t want to leave it on your desk.” She handed him a file.

  Tom flipped through it quickly, seeing surveillance photos marked with times and troop movements, the prediction of how the border between Russia and Mongolia would be protected over the next week.

  Elena cocked her head to the side, “These types of predictive analyses can be fraught with issues, as you know, sir. I did my best to detail where the border would be protected versus empty over the next few days, but it’s not a perfect science.”

  Tom nodded. The information was good enough. It didn’t have to be perfect. If Ercan couldn’t get whatever it was he wanted across the border, that was his problem. Just thinking about Ercan’s demands tightened his stomach. “Thanks, Elena. I appreciate it.”

  As Elena turned to walk away, Tom stopped her, “Hey, Elena?”

  She turned around, her slight frame, ruby red lips, and blonde pixie haircut no indicator of how talented she was as an agent. “Have you heard from Travis recently? I know you guys are close. I was wondering how he’s been doing.”

  It was a fishing expedition. Tom knew that. He watched Elena’s face carefully for any flicker of concern. There wasn’t any. That was good. He’d have to be careful not to push too hard. She was a savvy agent, one that could pick up on body language faster than most. Tom took a deep breath, keeping his face relaxed and friendly.

  “Can’t say I have, sir. It’s been a few months. Last I heard, he was working on rebuilding the barn that got burned down. That’s all I know. Did you need me to reach out to him?”

  Tom shook his head slowly, “No, no,” he said, trying to sound casual. “I was just thinking about him. Wondered how he was doing. You know, we do miss him around here.” Tom tried to shift the conversation away from any specific request.

  “That we do, sir.” Elena glanced at the door, “If that’s all…”

  “Of course, Agent Lobranova. I know you’ve got a lot to do.”

  “Yes, sir. That I do.”

  33

  As soon as Elena left his office, Tom gathered up the file Elena had given to him, plus a few more for good measure, his cell phone, a notepad, and his car keys. He stopped at his assistant’s desk on the way out, “I’ve a few things to attend to. I’ll be back.”

  “Yes, sir,” the young man nodded without asking any questions.

  He was a good assistant, Tom thought as he strode out of the building. One of the few people that didn’t give Tom a hard time.

  Ercan at least had the courtesy to choose a meeting place that was close to Langley rather than making Tom drive the entire way back out to the abandoned warehouse again. Tom grimaced as he put pressure on the accelerator of the BMW. The day had gotten off to a bad start and hadn’t really righted itself yet. Hopefully, after he passed along the information to Ercan, he would be able to get back on track. He swallowed, remembering the text he’d gotten from Shelley. Vague, but pointed. There was a reason he’d been hesitant to pass along CIA research regarding hedge funds to the Senate Intelligence Committee. It would put a target on his back. How would he ever begin to explain his involvement in Desert Indigo? He’d gone through it in his head a million times. Part of him knew he was going to get caught, but part of him was still optimistic that he might be able to give a plausible enough explanation, tell his colleagues he was running his own undercover, covert operation and then somehow escape with the money Jonah had made from him in the process. It was a tall order with a lot of moving parts.

  Then he’d have to disappear…

  Time was running out. He’d have to go, with or without Shelley. The question was, would she want to leave, scarring her legacy as a Senator? He didn’t have the answer for that. He wasn’t sure he wanted to think about it.

  Pulling into Highlands Park, a quick three-mile drive from the Langley campus, Tom saw Ercan’s Bentley parked nearby. Ercan was perched on the back of the trunk again, his phone pressed to his ear. As Tom got out of the car, Ercan waved him over and then quickly hung up. Tom looked over his shoulder both ways. They were in the middle of an open parking lot. Anyone with even a reasonable telephoto lens on a camera, or even the camera app on their phone, for that matter, could have been snapping pictures of him as they met. His stomach knotted, acid churning up the back of his throat.

  Ercan smiled, “It’s nice to see you twice in one day. Did you get what I need?”

  Tom didn’t say anything, simply handing over the manila file Elena had prepared for him.

  Ercan flipped through the sheaf of papers inside. “This seems fairly comprehensive. Glad to see that the taxpayers are getting their money’s worth here in the United States.”

  Tom grimaced, “You don’t pay taxes here, Ercan. This isn’t on your dime.”

  Ercan narrowed his eyes and then grinned, “Correct. Actually, I don’t pay taxes anywhere.” He tilted his head to the side, “I guess you could look at it as an investment in your future, then.” As he thumbed through the file, he pointed to the last page, which listed the CIA asset that was located nearby, the one who had been doing the reconnaissance. “What about this person? This CIA asset? Who is this?”

  Tom reached forward, lunging, trying to get the last sheet of paper out of the file, but Ercan was too quick. He snatched the file away from Tom, just as Ercan’s bodyguards blocked Tom from getting any closer. “Now, now. No reason to get aggressive, Tom. The file is mine.”

  Tom’s face flushed. It was a rookie mistake. He should have pulled the last page out of the file and shredded it before he ever left the office. Now Ercan had the name of one of their local assets. “Don’t do anything to him. He feeds us information, that’s all.”