Edge

ago. They drop surveillance. That leaves him free to hire Loving to snatch Joanne and get all kinds of information. That sounds like a pretty successful sleeper cell to me. He isn’t exactly dripping guilt but it’s all we’ve got.”
    “That’s my second fastest man theory.”
    “The second . . . what?” I asked.
    “You know how fast you have to be to outrun a bear, Corte?”
    I was watching Joanne stare out the window. “How fast?”
    “Just a little faster than the guy with you.” Freddy seemed to be waiting. When I didn’t say anything he said, “I mean that Zagaev doesn’t have to be a perfect suspect. He just has to be good enough.”
    “I’ll have Claire call you with what she’s learned.”

Chapter 48
    TWENTY MINUTES LATER Claire duBois called with information about Aslan Zagaev. This was perhaps a new record for her.
    “I sent Freddy everything,” she explained. “He’s getting the warrants now.”
    “Good. Brief me.”
    “He was born outside of Grozny, came over here to study at American University when he was twenty-two. He did postgrad work at MIT and came back to the D.C. area. He started to spend some time at a radical mosque in our hometown, Alexandria. He broke with them—he wasn’t religious enough, apparently—but what he was good at was being an entrepreneur. With his science background and connections he made on Embassy Row and among government contractors, he found there was a market—selling trade secrets.”
    “Why’d he get off with a plea?”
    “The crime was industrial espionage. What he did was illegal, yes, but very clever. Technically he didn’t steal anything that was directly against national security. The Pakistani couple that Joanne and her partner took out? They were consolidators. They assembled information from Zagaev and others into something more useful. I mean, somethinguseful in the dangerous sense. I’ve learned a lot about nuclear fuel rods. And centrifuges. Enrichment is fascinating.”
    All in twenty minutes.
    Before she could start the physics lecture, though, I asked, “So Zagaev cooperated and went on to live the American dream life?”
    “He got married, had a couple of kids and didn’t have anything to do with his old life.”
    A lot of that going around nowadays, I reflected, looking at Joanne.
    “But for the last few years he seemed to become more religious, though the mosque he and his family go to now is moderate. He seems to lead a fairly secular life. He owns some carpet stores and a restaurant. His kids are in a good private school. He has been taking a few more trips overseas, Turkey a lot. The rugs, I guess. Saudi and Jordan.”
    “Any watchlists?”
    “No, none of ours and none in the U.K., Pakistani, India, Jordanian, Saudi or Israeli databases.”
    On the surface, yes, innocent. But I still liked my idea of a deep sleeper cell.
    DuBois continued with the rest of the information she knew I would want. She rattled off details about gun registrations (none, because he’d pled to a felony years ago and could not own firearms), state criminal convictions (none), traffic stops (one, crossing the white line prematurely to make a right turn), incriminating posts on social networking sites (none), cars, mortgages, medical records, unusual consumer product purchases, travel records and information about his rug operation and the restaurant.
    I knew Williams’s people had given him a pass, but I still wasn’t convinced he was clean.
    I disconnected. Joanne looked at me. She’d overheard everything. “You think it’s Zagaev?”
    “I don’t know. We’re looking.”
    “He seemed so inconsequential. I can’t see it.”
    I sat in an armchair; the smell of ancient upholstery rose.
    After a moment she said, “Thank you.”
    I lifted an eyebrow.
    “About Maree. You didn’t have to go after her. That wasn’t your job.”
    “It was, yes. It’s not efficient to have your principals separated. Too much of a risk.”
    She looked at me knowingly. “It was sure a risk to her, right?”
    My voice lowered, though I knew Maree couldn’t hear. “She ran to the cliff by the river. But I don’t think she was going to jump.”
    “But you couldn’t tell.”
    “No, I couldn’t tell. She’s vulnerable. But not hopelessly lost.”
    “Not like me.”
    I said nothing; what was there to say? It was my task to keep my principals’ physical incarnations alive and theirs to protect their own souls and hearts.
    “You know what my