Page 70 of Trust No One

He’d opened the boxes and taken one slice of pepperoni pizza when Mel sat down across from him. “What the hell, Dev? You should have had Gideon with you. But you thought I needed ababysitter?”

“Hell, no, babe. You’re the smartest person I know. But you were a desk jockey. You didn’t do operations. You ran the shows from your desk.” He took a bite of pizza and washed it down with a beer he’d found in the refrigerator. “What would you have done if a couple of guys with guns burst into the room while I was downstairs?”

She reared back, shocked thatthatwas where his mind had gone. “I, ah, would have grabbed my gun.”

“Which is in your bedroom,” he pointed out. “You would have been dead by the time you were halfway to the adjoining door.”

Mel swallowed, realizing Dev was right. “I, um, didn’t think of that.”

“Of course you didn’t. That wasn’t your job.” He stabbed a finger into his chest. “That wasmyjob. And that’s why I went downstairs and left Gideon here with you.”

“Okay,” she said slowly. She fumbled with the only unopened pizza box for her veggie pizza. “Thank you?”

Dev grinned at her. “Any time, babe. Like I said, I’ve got your back.”

Chapter 24

Mel sat in the front seat beside Dev, her foot jittering on the floormat. There was one car ahead of them at the Langley gate, and it felt as if the guard spent hours examining their ID card before waving the vehicle through.

Dev eased the car up to the guard post, then rolled down his window. “We’re meeting with the Director at nine. He said he’d notify you, so you’d know we were expected.”

“ID’s please,” the guard said. He kept one hand on his gun and extended the other toward Dev.

All three of them had their driver’s licenses out, and Dev handed them to the guard. He looked at each DL, studied the owner’s face, then moved on to the next DL. Finally, after what felt like eternity but was probably less than a minute, he handed the licenses back to Dev, raised the gate and waved them through. “Park in that lot,” he said, pointing toward parking on the left. “Go to the seventh floor elevators,” he said. “They’re on your right as you enter the building.”

“Thanks,” Dev said as they drove onto the grounds.

Mel swallowed. She’d been to Langley three previous times during her CIA career – when she was hired, when she was trained, and when she resigned. The immense building had parking lots on opposite ends, with thick forests surrounding the entire property. She was pretty sure the forests were wired with every electronic surveillance and warning system available to prevent surprise attacks.

After they’d parked and entered the building, Mel looked for guards standing next to elevators. “Over there,” she murmured to Dev, lifting her chin toward the men and women standing in front of elevator doors.

After showing their IDs again, the agents checked a list, then used a key to open the elevator door. As she, Dev and Gideon filed in, the guard pressed another button and the doors slid closed.

When they emerged onto the seventh floor, there were guards by the door there, too. Mel cleared her throat. “We’re meeting with the Director in ten minutes,” she said as she pulled out her ID.

The guard studied it, then looked at both Dev’s and Gideon’s IDs. Then he directed them down the hall. “Fifth door on the left,” he said. “Go on in. There’ll be someone at the desk.”

Drawing a deep breath, Mel walked with Dev and Gideon to the fifth door, then entered the office. A desk stood in front of another door. Behind it, a blond man with an ordinary, forgettable face looked up. His gaze swept over each of them as if memorizing their faces.

“Names please,” he said.

All three of them recited their names, and the receptionist nodded. “I know your IDs have been checked several times already. You’re on the Director’s list. Let me see if he’s ready for you.”

He disappeared into the door behind his desk, returning in less than a minute. “He’ll be right with you. Have a seat,” he said.

All three of them dropped into chairs. Dev and Gideon pulled out their phones, but Mel studied the room. Several pieces of modern art hung on the walls, colorful splashes of color on canvas. Copies of Time, Newsweek and National Geographic fanned out on the tables between the chairs. Like a doctor’s waiting room, she thought, struggling to stifle the nervous laughter.

She’d picked up a National Geographic and begun thumbing through it when the receptionist said, “Come on back.”

All three of them stood up, and Mel took a deep breath. Dev glanced at her, and his fingers brushed hers. “You got this,” he whispered.

His words steadied her, and she nodded. She wanted to grab his hand, but she curled her fingers into her palms instead. Yeah, she had this. The CIA Director was a powerful man. But it wasn’t like they were asking him for a favor. They’d come here to helphim.

She, Dev and Gideon had discussed the possibility that Bradford Allen wouldn’t believe them. It was their job to sell their story to him.

The receptionist opened the door behind his desk, then stood back to allow them to enter.

The gray-haired, buzz cut man behind the desk stood up. His tailored gray suit and blue dress shirt fit his muscular body perfectly. The left side of his jacket bulged with a gun.

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