Page 94 of Out of Control

It was from Charles.

Quickly he opened the text app and read,I know who received video from last night. My boss, Omer Akaba. No solid proof he’s Hamza’s mole, but will watch. He’ll fuck up eventually. He left the building abruptly this afternoon. No idea where he went.

Any chance you can send my SEAL platoon to me? Just kidding.

If only. Be safe and take care of D.

Spencer pocketed his phone.

Interesting. If this Akaba guy was the one watching the feeds from Drago’s Paris flat, his abrupt departure could be in response to their announcement of their plans.

Drago barged into the salon, grinning, looking ridiculous with a baguette sticking out from under his elbow, along with an armload of cheese, sausage, apples, and a bottle of wine.

Spencer helped Drago put it all down without dropping the wine bottle. They sat on the floor to have their picnic, and Spencer dug in as hungrily as Dray.

Spencer asked, “Have you ever worked with Omer Akaba?”

Drago looked up sharply. “Yeah. Why?”

“How closely, Dray?”

“A lot of the intel I collect goes straight to his desk.”

“Does he provide actionable intel for you?” Spencer asked quickly.

“Sometimes. He’s the guy who told me Fayez Khoury would be in Berlin, probably at that brothel at some point during his visit to the city.”

Spencer choked on the crust of bread he’d just bitten into, and it took a moment to cough out the sharp-edged crumbs and take a swig of the excellent red wine.

“Don’t die on me now, man. I need your help,” Drago teased.

“That’s all you need me for?” he croaked, still coughing a bit.

Drago threw him a withering look that said,Really?

They continued eating for a moment, and then Drago said, “What’s up with Akaba?”

Spencer sighed. No use beating around the bush. Drago would smell a lie, or even a misdirect, from a mile away. “Charles Favian texted me. Akaba is the guy who received the footage of the shooting last night.”

Drago stared. “Charles thinks Akaba is Hamza’s man inside the CIA?”

“Maybe.”

“I’ve worked with him foryears.”

“And everything you’ve told him has probably gone straight to Hamza.”

“Sonofabitch.”

Something horrifying occurred to Spencer. “Were you reporting to him—werewereporting to him—ten years ago? When we did the original surveillance on Hamza’s terror cell?”

Drago swore violently this time.

“I’ll take that as a yes?” Spencer asked in dismay.

“Yeah,” Drago ground out from between clenched teeth.

They’d been played. All this time.Played.

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