Dead Edge: the gripping political thriller for fans of Lee Child. Jack Ford

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СКАЧАТЬ sir.’

      ‘When? Because I was with him just this morning and he didn’t mention anything then.’

      ‘The call came through around mid-day. We did try to get hold of you.’

      ‘And when you didn’t, you thought it was just okay to send orders through to Turkmenistan for them to go ahead and do it?’

      ‘Sir, I wasn’t anything to do with it. It was the deputy director who took the decision. The President’s office wanted to get it done as quickly as possible. Marked urgent.’

      ‘You got the results?’

      Willis nodded. Wanted to scratch his chin. Decided against it if it meant revealing his modesty.

      ‘I have sir, they’re in my jacket.’

      ‘Have you shown them to anyone else?’

      ‘No, sir. Absolutely not.’

      Guardedly, Chuck enquired. ‘Anything out of the usual show up on the test?’

      ‘Yes, sir. The strange thing is although David Thorpe is clearly shown on the CCTV footage driving the lorry before parking it and walking away, as well as the coffee staff IDing him, along with the fact that he had traces of ammonium nitrate on his clothes and hands, the polygraph test isn’t clear cut at all. It was rendered inconclusive. All the tests were.’

      ‘What do you mean?’

      ‘Well, after the first test was inconclusive they redid it two more times. It’s odd because when he says it wasn’t him who built the bomb or drove the truck or even went for an Eggnog latte, even though he’s clearly there on the tape footage, the test results are still reading inconclusive rather than pointing to him lying, which you would’ve thought it would. The only thing he does admit, is that it was him on the tape and the test shows a pass for that.’

      ‘Even he couldn’t deny that one.’

      ‘I realize that, sir, but off the record the guys in Turkmenistan say he does sound very convincing when he says he doesn’t know anything about the bomb. And don’t forget, sir, only 5 to 10 percent of people’s tests are found to be inconclusive.’

      Chuck took a step towards Willis. Narrowed eyes. Mouth held tight. ‘What are you trying to say?’

      ‘Nothing… I… I just mean it sounds like he’s telling the truth.’

      Fingers jabbed into Willis’ bare chest. ‘You ever say that again and you’ll be sorry. You understand me? That kind of talk, there’s no place for. The guy’s a terrorist. Simple. I don’t want you repeating that crap to anyone.’

      ‘Yes, sir, it was just… it was…’

      ‘Just what? You think polygraph tests are infallible just because the CIA use them all the time?’

      ‘No.’

      ‘Didn’t you read the National Academy of Science report on them? Casting doubt? Reasons why you may get an inconclusive test include inadequate question formulation, based on bad case facts. Questions that are compound or ambiguous. The absence of care by the examinee of getting caught in a lie. The matter of not giving a damn about the consequences. It’s the job of the examiner to determine the proper psychological set for the polygraph examination. Did you know all that?’

      ‘No, sir, I didn’t.’

      ‘Then maybe you should. And apart from anything else, if he didn’t know anything about it, tell me why the hell he was driving a truck with false plates which were registered to a vehicle that’d been crushed six months ago… Now put your clothes on… And Willis?’

      ‘Yes, sir?’

      ‘Like I say, I don’t want you mention the results to anyone else.’

      ‘What about the President? Shouldn’t I get them to his office?’

      ‘I don’t think you’re listening. I said, no-one else. I’ll sort out the President’s office, okay? So now we’re all good… But Arnold.’

      ‘Yes, sir?’

      ‘Just one other thing. If you want to continue working for the CIA, don’t ever let me hear you refer to this again…’

SCOTTSDALE, ARIZONA

       USA

       16

      ab4 Nh5

      Cooper sat in his ’54 Chevy watching the heatwaves rise up from the engine, mixing with the heatwaves of the day. He’d parked on the cactus-lined dusty road where he could see the small airstrip belonging to Onyx Asset Recovery. A company which specialized in tracking down high value boats and planes, mostly for banks, leasing companies and on occasion governments.

      This was where he worked. Onyx. The remote office he’d been operating out of for the past six years. It was built in the middle of four hundred acres of wilderness. Hot desert land based just outside North Scottsdale, Arizona, with God-given views.

      He hadn’t stepped foot in the actual office in a while. Last year he’d returned from a job in the Democratic Republic of the Congo, and he’d come back messed up. More messed up than when he’d gone.

      The breakdown of his marriage hadn’t helped, but in truth, when it had been up and running, it hadn’t helped him either.

      His marriage reminded him of the infamous Ford Pinto. On the outside it looked okay, but the issues were there long before it’d even clocked up any mileage. A flawed design, a lack of reinforcement, and all held together by substandard bolts which quickly came loose, eventually piercing into the heart of the tank, causing it to erupt into flames.

      On his return from the DRC, Maddie and Beau had insisted on him going back to see his shrink at the VA Medical Center. But he struggled. Struggled not to feel ashamed. Yes, he’d served and fought for his country, he’d been proud to do so, but his problems weren’t directly linked with combat, nor what he’d seen during his time as a Navy SEAL. His problems were linked to a woman. A woman he’d loved. His childhood sweetheart who he hadn’t been able to keep safe. But the shrink at the Veterans’ Affairs Center liked to bandy the letters PTSD around. And at that point, he always took his exit. Because how could he sit next to his military brothers, whose problems were a direct result of war, and hold his head up high when it hadn’t been a battle which had caused his torment?

      Okay, the accident eight years ago had been in part caused by the approach and attack of their yacht by Somalian pirates, but that certainly wasn’t a reason to go to the VA Medical Center, cryin’ and hollerin’, no matter what the psychiatrists liked to try to tell him.

      This was his doing. Period. And he had to deal with it. Consequently, instead of feeling like he was discrediting what it meant to be a veteran, a hero, he’d found a private shrink… Quite a few, actually. And so when things got really bad and he couldn’t sleep and the nightmares came and he just felt like he was on the edge and he wanted to end it all but didn’t know how, well then, СКАЧАТЬ