“Did you come in here to steal our computers?” the guy shouted. “That’s burglary, McLanahan — that’s another ten years in prison. And you came in here and viewed classified material — that’s another ten to fifteen years, along with about a million dollars in fines. You’re looking at some hard time, bub, and not in minimum security either. There will be some very big, very bad men who will be anxious to get to meet you up close and personal.” The man held up a tiny bag of white powder. “What the hell is this?” he shouted.
“Nothing!”
“What do you mean, nothing?” He handed it back to someone behind him and shouted again, “What is it?”
“It’s nothing. It’s airsickness medicine.”
“Airsickness medicine, huh? That’s a new one.” A few minutes later, he held up a tiny tube filled with blue liquid that was passed over to him by someone in the darkness. “This is a cobalt-thiocyanate test, McLanahan, and you just flunked it. The stuff in the bag we found on you is cocaine. So you broke in here to steal equipment to buy more coke, is that it, McLanahan?”
“No!” Brad shouted.
“You gonna tell me the stuff isn’t yours?”
“No… no, it’s mine, but it’s not cocaine, it’s airsickness medicine!”
“Who told you that?” Brad didn’t answer. “You’re a burglar, a liar, and a doper, McLanahan,” the guy said. “You’re going to go to prison for a very, very long time. I hope you get some good drug treatment while you’re rotting in a cell, you miserable little—”
“That’s enough, Brady,” a different voice interrupted. The desk light was turned away from his face, and some of the hangar lights were turned on so he could see better. When his eyes adjusted, he could see the head FBI agent seated in front of him. “Good evening, Mr. McLanahan. I’m Special Agent Philip Chastain, FBI. We’ve already met briefly, if you recall.” He turned. “Wipe his face off, Brady, you gave him a bloody nose. I hope you didn’t break it. And put those cuffs in front and loosen them — you’re making his hands turn purple.” The first agent roughly wiped his face with a damp towel, then took off one of the cuffs, brought his hands in front of him, then snapped the loose one back on.
“You’re in some serious trouble, Mr. McLanahan,” Chastain said in a quiet voice. “Agent Brady wasn’t lying about any of this: we’ve got the video of you breaking through the gate and the hangar door; we’ve got video of you checking out the computers; and the stuff in your pocket really is cocaine. We’ve got the entire search and cobalt thiocyanate test on video, so you can’t claim it was planted.” He inched a bit closer to Brad and lowered his voice: “I even know about you and Agent Renaldo of the Department of Homeland Security.” Brad’s head snapped up in surprise. “Yep, I’m afraid she’s going to be in some trouble, but not nearly as much as you are right now.”
“Cassandra wouldn’t give me cocaine,” Brad said, his voice strained and cracking.
“So it’s got to be yours.”
Brad lowered his head, then nodded. “It’s mine,” he lied.
“We thought so,” Chastain said. “Possession, sale weight… you might be able to get a break if this is your first offense, but even so, with all the other charges, you’re looking at serious federal prison time.” Brad hung his head, and his shoulders started to shake. “And Agent Cassandra Renaldo is still in trouble…” He paused for effect, then added in a quiet voice, almost a whisper: “If anyone else ever finds out about any of this.”
It took a moment for his words to sink in, but soon Brad raised his head. “Wha-what… ?”
“I’m in a position to offer you a deal, Brad,” Chastain said. “It’s just for right now, tonight only. If I pick up the phone to my office and tell them I’m bringing in a prisoner, no more deals will be possible with me. It’ll be yes or no, right here, right now. Do you understand?”
Brad nodded. “What’s the deal?” he asked.
“First of all, you are going to sign a contract,” Chastain said in a firm, measured voice. “You’re going to admit to everything you’ve done, and agree to do everything I tell you to do in exchange for me not pressing any charges against you or Agent Renaldo — conditionally. It’s a federal contract, countersigned by the U.S. attorney and a federal judge.” Brad’s face brightened. “You’re going to do some tasks for me. You will do them precisely as I tell you, and give me exactly the information I tell you to give me, exactly when I want it, with no excuses. If you fail to do any of this, you will be rearrested, formally charged, and put in jail to await trial.” Brad’s eyes flared when he heard the word
“What do you want me to do for you?”
