Riptide

you don't choose to help
    me, you will not inform your colleagues about any of this conversation.
    It all remains right here, in this booth."
    "Is it illegal?"
    "No, Savich. I've always believed that being a crook requires too
    much work and energy. I'd rather race my sailboat on the Chesapeake
    than worry about evading the cops. The FBI is, however, involved,
    and that does make for some conflict of interest."
    Savich said slowly, "You're a very powerful man, Mr. Matlock. It
    took MAX nearly fourteen minutes to even find out that you're a
    very well-protected high-ranking member of the intelligence community.
    It took him another hour and two phone calls from me to
    discover that you are one of the Shadow Men. I don't trust you."
    Sherlock cocked her head to the side and said, "What are the
    Shadow Men?"
    Thomas said, "It's a name coined back in the early seventies by
    the CIA for those of us who have high security clearance, work
    very quietly, very discreetly, always out of sight, always in the background,
    and frankly, do things that aren't sanctioned or publicized
    or even recognized. Results are seen, but not any of us."
    "You mean like the 'Mission Impossible' team?"
    "Nothing so perfectly orchestrated as all that. No, I've never
    burned a tape in my life." He smiled then and it was an attractive
    smile, Sherlock thought. He was a handsome man, well built, took
    care of himself. A bit younger than her father, but not much. Ah,

but his eyes. They were filled with bleak, dark shadows, with secrets
    huddled deep, and there was pain there as well, pain there for so
    very long that it was now a part of him, burrowed deep. He was a
    complex man, but most important, he was alone, so very alone--
    now she saw that clearly--and he was afraid of something that
    went as deep as his soul. She didn't think that being a Shadow Man
    was the reason for all that bleakness in his eyes.
    She said, "It sounds like cloak-and-dagger stuff, sir, like it should
    have gone out of business when the Cold War ended."
    Thomas said, "Perhaps there's a bit of cloak-and-dagger still in
    the mix. Actually, before the end of the Cold War things were a lot
    simpler. We knew the enemy. We knew exactly how the enemy
    operated, what to expect. However, now the projects we're involved
    in are rarely so clean, so splendidly satisfying and clear-cut
    as that 'Mission Impossible' TV show.
    "In my area, there is rarely an obvious and clean line between us
    and the bad guys, although Saddam and Gaddafi look like they're
    going to be long-timers. An enemy of yesterday is a confederate of
    today. Unfortunately, the opposite is also true.
    "This is more true today, of course. So many petty tyrants and
    greedy despots who want to rule, if not the world, then a larger
    portion of it than they do currently. China is the giant fist, more
    frightening than the USSR ever was. So many people, so many
    natural resources, such endless potential. Somehow we have to deal
    with all of them."
    Thomas looked off over Sherlock's left shoulder, seeing into the
    past, into the future, she didn't know. Then he said quietly, "There
    are always failures, mistakes, lives lost needlessly. But we try, Mrs.
    Savich. More often than not, thank God, we do succeed and perhaps
    make the world a bit safer. For the most part we re not allowed
    to be nice people, so your husband is smart not to trust me.

However, this is something entirely different. This isn't business.
    This is entirely personal. I need help badly."
    She lowered her head and began weaving a packet of Equal
    through her fingers. Finally, she looked straight at him, picked up
    her iced tea glass, raised it toward him, and said, "Why don't you
    call me Sherlock."
    Thomas clicked his glass to hers. Somehow, he knew, she and
    her husband had communicated, had agreed to hear him out.
    "Sherlock. It is a charming name. It goes very well with Savich."
    Savich sat forward then. "Let's cut to the chase, Mr. Matlock. We
    give you our word that nothing you tell us today will go beyond
    this booth. We will accept the possibility of a conflict of interest, at
    least for the moment."
    Thomas felt the same sort of loosening in his gut that he'd felt
    when Adam had told him he'd already begun to protect Becca. He
    smiled at the two of them and said, "Why don't you call me
    Thomas."

Chapter 13

    Sheriff Gaffney said, "Well now, what we got was an anonymous
    tip, Mr. Carruthers."
    "That's rather odd, don't you think, Sheriff?"Adam