But to get from here to there, we need to get some straight answers from the parents. We need to find out what they did all those years ago that set this chain of events in motion and put their kids in mortal jeopardy.
FBI Operational Black Site, Foggy Bottom District; Washington DC
“Are you sure this is wise?” Astra asks.
“No. But it’s the only way we’re going to get what we need,” I say. “It might be the only way to bring these kids home.”
“Do you think they’ll be honest with us though?”
I shrug. “If they want to save their kids’ lives, they better be.”
After a day of searching, we still don’t have the answers to our most pressing questions. We still don’t know what happened at Georgetown all those years ago. I know whatever happened, it was bad. But somehow, there’s no official police record of an incident involving any of the four who were at Georgetown together—Patrick Berenthal, Elliot Barlow, Denise Moore, and Susan Olange. This situation, whatever it turns out to be, centers around those four.
“Why are we bringing them here though?” Paige asks.
“Neutral ground for them, and it’s central to everybody. Plus, having them all in our house will hopefully keep any of them from getting too uppity and territorial. I want them back on their heels from the start,” I say. “It’s also just a matter of expediency. We don’t have time to set up a clean place to meet that we control. And if we tried, we’d be asked a lot of questions that I don’t want to answer right now.”
I don’t like giving up the location of our war room. To anybody. But with the investigation finally yielding some results and gaining momentum, I don’t feel like I have any choice. We need to speak with these four right now. At the same time. I really believe they hold the key to blowing this thing wide open and helping us get what we need to catch this guy and, hopefully, to bring all their children home safe and unharmed.
“DD Church is probably going to be upset you burned one of her black sites,” Astra notes.
“Probably. But she did tell us to solve this by any means necessary. This is necessary,” I reply. “And I did tell the four principles to come alone.”
“Oh, well, there’s that,” Astra says with a grin.
“Well, no use debating the pros and cons anymore,” Nina says. “They’re here.”
“They’re prompt. I’ll give them that,” I mutter.
“Let the games begin,” Astra says.
Mo gets up and opens the door for our arriving guests. Surprisingly, they heeded my words and came without any aides or personal assistants. One by one, they walk into the war room and take one of the seats around the table my team has vacated. Astra, Mo, Rick, Nina, and Paige are all standing against the wall on the other side of the room, quietly watching the proceedings. Senator Barlow walks through the door and flashes me a frosty glare, clearly unhappy to have been called to this meeting. But he’s got skin in the game the same as the others.
By the time Susan Olange, the last to arrive, sits down, the atmosphere feels like it’s dropped twenty degrees. All four of them are studiously avoiding looking at each other, and the room is filled with an awkward tension. Despite the shared connection of a missing child, which they should be able to bond over, these people look like they want to be anywhere but in this room. Like they can’t wait to get out of here and away from these people who are causing them such obvious discomfort.
If I had any doubts coming into this that these people know each other—and know each other well—that’s gone now. It’s easy to see these people are very familiar with one another, and it’s clear none of them are happy to be in each other’s presence again. There’s a story here, and judging by how uncomfortable these people are, it’s got to be a good one. My gut is telling me that story is the root of what’s happening to their children.
“Okay, let me start by saying thank you all for coming in,” I begin. “I know you all have very busy schedules, but believe me when I say I wouldn’t have asked you all here if it weren’t important.”
“Do you know where our children are, Chief Wilder?” Olange asks.
“Not yet, but—”
“Then what are we doing here?” Berenthal cuts me off, his tone gruff. “Better yet, why aren’t you out there looking for them?”
“Judge Berenthal, one thing you have to understand is that no investigation is a straight line. It takes a little time to cut through the noise to get to the truth of the matter,” I reply.
“And what is the truth of the matter, Chief Wilder?” Moore asks.
“The truth of the matter is that these abductions aren’t about your children. This isn’t some trafficking ring or predator snatching up kids off the street—”
“Then what is this about?” Barlow cuts me off.
“This is about all of you,” I say simply, as if the answer is obvious.
“What are you talking about?” Berenthal says.
“Your children were abducted because of something you four did,” I tell them.
Everybody at the table shifts in their seats and mutters darkly to themselves, still refusing to look the others in the eye. The level of awkward discomfort was about an eight before but has quickly become a twelve. In a morbid way, I find it kind of fascinating. These people are all experiencing an uncommon level of suffering—one no parent should have to endure. But even in that shared distress, something else is making them on edge. It only makes me more curious to uncover what it is they’re hiding—to find out what they did that was so terrible they can’t even look each other in the eye.
“What are you talking about, Chief Wilder?” Barlow asks.
“It’s painfully obvious that you all know each other,” I say. “And… don’t bother trying to deny it. We know you all went to Georgetown together for a time. But then you all mysteriously withdrew and enrolled at other schools.”
Berenthal sits up, his face twisted with outrage. “You’ve been investigating us?”
“How dare you,” Olange gasps.
“You had no right,” Moore chimes in.
“Spare me,” I say. “As I said, an investigation can take a lot of convoluted paths. And this path we’re on has led us directly to you four.”
For the first time, the four people around the table exchange glances with one another, and in those glances, I can see the unspoken promise between them reflected in their eyes. Their bodies tense, their faces grow tight, and the vibrations of fear in the air around us become palpable. But that aroma of fear blends with something else I didn’t expect… shame. I look at Astra and see her face light up as she catches the same vibe I’m feeling coming off the four people seated at the table between us.
“What happened at Georgetown all those years ago?” I press. “What did you people do?”
Nobody offers anything up and instead, they all look down at their hands, seeming to be physically withdrawing. The fear and shame on their faces are tangible. But nobody seems to want to be the first to break the pact they made. Not even the threat their kids are facing because of whatever they did seems to be moving the needle much.
“Do you think we’re playing a game?” Astra finally snaps. “The lives of your children are in danger. Because of you. What aren’t you getting here?”
She walks over to stand beside me, glaring angrily at the people seated around the table. All of them, seeming to be acting as one, raise their heads, eyes narrowed, faces painted with the same arrogance and outrage.
“You need to watch your tongue, Agent Russo,” Barlow growls. “You would do well to remember who you’re talking to.”
“Frankly, at the moment, we don’t care who you are,” Astra says. “All we care about is bringing these kids home. Your kids.”
“And what’s become abundantly clear to us is that these abductions were motivated by something the four of you did back in college,” I say. “The sooner you tell us what you did, the sooner we can figure out who is responsible for this and find your children.”
It feels like all the oxygen has been sucked out of the room as silence descends over the room for a couple of minutes. I can’t believe these people are hesitating. I am astounded that they seem more worried about covering their own butts than bringing their kids home.
“Chief Wilder,” Olange says softly. “What is it that makes you believe our children were taken in response to something we did?”
“The cards you all received. The quote from the Merchant of Venice, the sins of the father, is to be laid upon the children,” I quote. “I honestly don’t know how much clearer it can be.”
