Free The Cain File by Max Tomlinson Page A

taking Maggie’s side.
    Straightening the mandarin collar of her royal-blue suit jacket, which matched her nail polish, Maggie said, “As I detailed in my initial report—over a year ago—I discovered suspicious payments into an offshore account belonging to a foreman at one of Five Fortunes’s exploration sites in northern Ecuador.”
    Houseman frowned. “And why were you focusing on the bank account of an employee of a foreign oil company in the first place?”
    “Because that employee was getting kickbacks from an American corporation,” Maggie said. “Five Fortunes received those funds directly from Commerce Oil, an American . . .”
    “Everyone knows what Commerce Oil is, Agent de la Cruz.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Are you on some kind of crusade? Against Commerce Oil?”
    Maggie glanced over at Ed. On the phone, before she’d left her apartment in the Mission this morning, Ed had instructed her to keep her comments to one of two options: yes or no.
    “I work on the accounting side,” she said. “I’m not concerned with what an American company actually does—until it breaks the law.” She looked around the room at the impassive faces.
    The next to speak was Eric Walder, director of the clandestine Field Operations, a slender man with frizzy hair. His face was cradled in one hand propped up on the arm of his swivel chair. He’d been taking everything in with half-lidded eyes. “Two men were killed,” he said in a New York accent. “Two of our people wounded.”
    Maggie thought of Achic, out of the hospital now, thank God. John Rae had yet to surface. Two people had been killed: one guard and the mysterious driver Maggie had encountered. “I’m aware of that. One of the deaths was related to the fact that I was almost killed myself.” She was still coming to terms with that.
    “Yes, you were. And none of it was warranted.”
    Maggie folded her hands in front of her on the conference table and made a conscious decision to control her words. She was furious. But she was lucky to be alive. She’d spent the last three days getting back from South America. She was exhausted and her body hurt. “It was deemed justified when I first submitted my report, showing Five Fortunes, a Chinese company, to be a front for Commerce Oil and that political manipulation was taking place in Ecuador. The operation was approved by the Agency. Signed off, funded, and Field Ops-supported. And it wasn’t until the very last minute at the meeting with Beltran, Velox, and Li that I found out Ecuador’s National Vice Squad had been compromised. It looked like we were going to simply give away two million dollars. I just couldn’t see doing that. And I still haven’t been given an explanation—”
    “An explanation? You’re an employee of the Agency. You follow orders. And your orders were to continue with the transfer.”
    Ed was next to speak: “Sir, under the circumstances, it made sense for Agent de la Cruz to stall the transaction, as it was clear that Minister Beltran had gained prior knowledge of the sting and manipulated the police. His men drew weapons on our agents.”
    Walder stared at Ed. “It was your responsibility to make sure your agent did as she was told.”
    There was a pause. “Yes, sir,” Ed said.
    Maggie cleared her throat. “I take full responsibility for . . .”
    Walder held his free hand up to silence Maggie, but maintained his lazy lean position, head in hand. A taut hush stifled the air in the windowless room. “This is not the first time you’ve disobeyed orders, is it, Agent de la Cruz?”
    She cleared her throat. “No, sir.”
    “You went over your director’s head when you filed that report.”
    Did she? Yes. “A prominent American corporation breaking the law in an international setting? I have a duty to stop that.”
    Director Walder smirked. “Where did you get your information that started the original investigation? On the kickbacks going to the foreman at Five