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She rose and started away from the table. Gamble started after her, but a guard stopped him and said, “Sir, you can’t leave the table.”

“Sandra!”

She stopped and turned to face him.

“You’re definitely messing with me,” he said.

Her eyes narrowed. “I’m dead serious, Christian.”

He could see that she was. She turned and headed for the inmate exit, nothing more to say.

Chapter 37

Kate’s hair whipped in the swirling wind as she watched her father’s helicopter touch down in northern Virginia.

She was still angry at him. She’d texted, emailed, and left at least a half dozen voicemail messages, and still it had taken him over an hour to get back to her. His excuse—“I was busy”—rang hollow. To his credit, not a moment was lost after hearing about her call from Patrick and the kidnapper’s ransom demand. They were in his limo two minutes after touchdown, heading to one of the most expensive homes in Fairfax County.

Kate’s father didn’t exactly hide his wealth, but his business partner put his on display like no one else. According to aHaute Livingfeature story Kate had read some years earlier, Jeremy Peel’s Tudor-style mansion was on a thirty-acre estate that spanned three towns and had five addresses, putting his annual property tax bill somewhere north of $300,000—all worth it, no doubt, if you and your third wife needed nine bedrooms, twelve bathrooms, two swimming pools, a clay tennis court, a putting green modeled after the famous twelfth hole at Augusta, a collection of beehives, and three large paddocks. Throw in a river running through the wooded backyard and a trout-stocked private lake, and life had to be good. Most of the time.

The Peels’ butler took Kate and her father to the study. Peel was standing at the credenza between a pair of Tiffany lamps. David Walker, head of BJB Funding, the CIA’s venture capital arm, was seated in a tufted leather armchair. With her father seated beside her on the camelback couch, Kate had the entire holy trinity of Buck Technologies in one room to discuss the fate of Patrick Battle.

“We can’t pay,” said Peel.

Before Kate could reply, her father said exactly what she was thinking.

“Jeremy, we’re talking two million dollars. Not twohundredmillion.”

“It’s not the amount. It’s about precedent. If we pay a ransom to these hoodlums, Buck Technologies will be known as an easy mark. Our wives, our children, our employees will be targets all over the world.”

“That’s why we have bodyguards and kidnap-and-ransom insurance,” said Gamble.

Kate was both surprised and encouraged by what she’d just heard. “Buck has insurance for kidnappings?”

“Yes,” her father said. “It covers the ransom and pays for a private negotiator. But the policy is void if you tell anyone you have it. So that information does not leave this room.”

“Is Patrick covered?” she asked.

“Unfortunately, no,” he said. “Obviously I would have told you, if it did.”

“Why isn’t he covered?” asked Kate.

“We don’t buy it for every employee in the company. It’s very expensive.”

Kate assumed she was covered, as the daughter of the CEO. Before she could decide if there was any need to confirm, the venture capitalist jumped in.

“Jeremy is right,” said Walker. “Buck can’t pay a ransom. And there’s no room for debate on this matter.”

“I don’t understand,” said Kate.

Walker and Peel exchanged glances, and they seemed to come to agreement that the CIA should do the talking. “This company’s biggest investor is the CIA. The CIA doesn’t pay ransom to terrorists.”

“How do you know Patrick was kidnapped by a terrorist organization?” asked Kate.

“The Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia has been on the State Department’s list of foreign terrorist organizations since the Clinton administration. Technically, the FARC laid down their arms under a peace treaty, but they’re still on the list.”

“I never said anything about the FARC,” said Kate.

“Let’s deal in facts, please. Thousands of FARC dissidents have lost faith in the peace process and rearmed. Kidnapping for ransom is their chief source of revenue. The CIA isn’t going to contribute to their war chest.”