Free Night and Day (Book 3): Bandit's Moon by Ken White Page B

to
    believe that the woman I’m looking for is at, or has been at, the Floresta.
    So I’m staking it out.” I paused. “So what are you doing here, Agent
    Eichhorn?”
    He was silent for a moment, then
    said, “Yes, we have an interest in the Floresta. I can’t tell you the
    nature of that interest for reasons of national security.”
    Maybe he was telling the truth,
    Maybe he wasn’t.
    The FBI was a federal agency, and
    wasn’t directly under the Vees. The federal government had departments and
    agencies. The Vees had administrative areas, and everything ran through the
    Governor General or the Area Governors.
    It didn’t mean that the federal
    government in general and the FBI in particular didn’t work with the Vees.
    They did. I don’t believe they had a choice in the matter. But when it came
    to matters of national security, it was unlikely that the FBI would be the
    lead agency. Or even involved. Vees liked to keep the big things in-house.
    And when you’ve got a whole world that hates and fears you, national
    security is one of the bigger things.
    So maybe Agent Eichhorn and his
    buddies weren’t FBI at all. IDs or not. The only thing I was pretty sure of
    was that they were human. It was cold in that apartment, and they were
    dressed appropriately. If they were Vees, they wouldn’t care about the
    cold.
    “All right,” I said. “You need to
    watch the Floresta for national security reasons. I need to watch it for my
    own reasons. How about we join forces? You get an extra pair of eyes, I
    stop peeing in a mayonnaise jar.”
    He shook his head. “Not
    possible.”
    “Then what do you suggest?” I
    asked.
    “You get in your car and you
    leave,” he said. “Take off, and don’t come back.” He paused. “And that’s
    not a suggestion.”
    FBI or not, I wasn’t going to win
    this one. They had the numbers and maybe they had the authority. I’m not
    the smartest guy, but I know not to double down on a losing
    hand.
    “All right,” I said. “I’m certainly
    willing to cooperate with the FBI. But how about you show me a little
    cooperation as well. I’m looking for a woman. Around 30 years of age. Short
    blond hair. Have you seen her going in or out of the Floresta?”
    “No,” Eichhorn said quickly. “We
    haven’t seen anyone matching that description in the vicinity of the
    Floresta, and we’ve been on-site for three days.” He paused. “It sounds
    like your information is wrong, Mr. Welles. Your woman doesn’t seem to be
    there.”
    Interesting. I hadn’t expected a
    straight answer. I figured he’d blow me off. Instead he’d answered my
    question. With a lie. And a poorly-told lie at that.
    Eichhorn was too quick with his
    reply. In his place, I would have taken my time answering. Maybe consult
    with the other two agents, if they were agents. Make a show of trying to
    help. And only then suggest that maybe Schleu wasn’t there.
    But Eichhorn was too anxious to get
    rid of me and make sure I didn’t come back. And in his hurry to send me on
    my way, he’d told me what I wanted to know. They were aware of Katarina
    Schleu. And they’d seen her around the Floresta.
    “Okay,” I said, making sure I
    slipped a little disappointment in my voice. Best if Eichhorn believed his
    wave-off had been successful. “Guess I’ll go back to the office and figure
    out what’s next.”
    “Yeah, it’s a tough business,”
    Eichhorn said. “Good luck. Hope you find who you’re looking
    for.”
    That remained to be seen. But I
    hadn’t been lying. I did need to figure out what was next.
    Eichhorn held out his hand and I
    shook it. There was warmth there, even in the cold room. He was indeed
    human. “Thanks for your cooperation, Mr. Welles.”
    “My pleasure,” I said. “So, I just
    go back to my Jeep and take off?”
    He checked his watch. “They’ll be
    changing shifts in about eight minutes,” he said. “Be in your car when it
    happens. When they’re distracted with the