Inside Outt

Daniel Larison. You never knew him, but he was part of the unit. One of the originals, in fact. He was one of the few people who had access to the tapes.”
    “So why isn’t everyone looking for him now?”
    “Because he died in the bombing attack on Prime Minister Bhutto in Karachi on October 18, 2007.”
    There was a long pause. “He faked his death?”
    “I believe he did. He had contacts in Pakistan’s ISI and he could have had foreknowledge of the attack.”
    “And not warned anyone?”
    “I told you, the man has demons.”
    “Damn. How many people died in that attack?”
    “About a hundred and forty, and three times that burned and maimed. Larison was in Karachi on temporary duty. Shortly before the attack, he reported he was going to meet a contact at Bhutto’s rally. But that might have been deception, and he could have left the country under a false passport after. The bomb was big enough to make it impossible to identify all the remains, one of which was assumed to be Larison’s based on knowledge of his movements and on other factors. Anyway, we couldn’t inquire too closely without getting into a pissing match with the ISI about placing operators unauthorized on their soil.”
    “Yeah, but they know we—”
    “They know, and they don’t want us to remove their ability to deny that they know. Anyway, if anyone could have pulled this off, it was Larison.”
    “What’s his motive?”
    “Well, there’s a hundred million dollars in play. That’s a lot of motive right there.”
    “Would you do what he’s doing for a hundred million?”
    “It doesn’t matter what I would do. It’s what Larison would do. Like I said, the man had demons. He saw some shit in the course of his work that mandated time with a shrink, but he would never see one.”
    Hort paused, and a ripple of sadness seemed to pass across his face.
    “Yeah, he shouldered an unfair burden, and the weight was causing cracks. He was a serial steroid abuser, for one thing. He had anger management issues, for another. Too many times, he stepped over the line in the field. I won’t lie to you, either—a lot of this is my responsibility. I saw the signs, I knew he’d been in the field for going on way too long. He needed a reprieve, he needed help. But with two active war theaters and shadow operations like we’ve never seen before, we’ve been stretched. Hell, we’ve got National Guard deployed in Iraq and Afghanistan, grunts on their fifth tour of duty, politicians asking more and more and giving us less and less to do it with. Put enough pressure on the system, you’re going to start seeing cracks. Cracks in the system, cracks in the soldiers.”
    Interesting. Hort had read the anger in Larison as he’d read it in Ben. Well, it wasn’t like the unit attracted a lot of Zen Buddhists.
    “Why are you so sure it was him?”
    “I’m not sure. But there’s no one else that makes any sense.”
    “Then couldn’t the other players—the Agency, the Bureau—figure out Larison, too? That he had the access, faked his death—”
    “They could, but they won’t. They don’t know him the way I do. Larison was the best. He’s what you’ll be in ten years if you keep developing the way you need to. Right now, you’ve got the confidence and the instincts. What you need is judgment. And control.”
    That was a rebuke for Manila. Ben couldn’t deny the justice of it.
    “If it’s just the Agency and the Bureau on this, how did you find out? What’s your connection?
    Hort smiled as though pleased that Ben was considering all the angles, asking the right questions. But he only said, “I’ve been around for a while, son. I know people.”
    Yeah, a guy like Hort had contacts everywhere: Pentagon, State, all the spook services… probably even the White House. Couldn’t really expect him to reveal his sources and methods.
    “So, what’s our time frame?”
    “Five days. And he says he has an electronic deadman trigger. Even if we find him, we can’t just take him out.”
    “A bluff?”
    Hort shook his head. “It’s exactly what he would do. Or you or I would do, for that matter.”
    “What do I do when I find him?”
    That ripple of sadness passed across Hort’s face again. “You don’t do anything. Your job is just to find him and fix him. Not to finish him. Not yet, anyway. For the time being, we’re going to have to play this one by ear.”
    Ben wasn’t sure what playing it by ear would be about. Up until