The Outer Circle (The Counterpoint Trilogy Book 3) Read Free Page A

data, more than they had in Schulmann’s file from two years ago. Who could have access to such information? One idea he had was to get in touch with Jim Brobak, the FBI friend of the late John Platt, who tried to help them two years ago in Texas. But how? They ended up contacting Oleg. Since Playa Del Carmen, they’d only seen Oleg twice but he’d been carefully staying in touch. It was Oleg who came up with the idea of smuggling them back into Los Angeles. In truth, there was no choice. It was dangerous to go into unknown, but even more dangerous to stay. Alejandro’s family has been shielding them in Mexico out of promises made back then. But Oleg knew that inside the large and powerful family different voices had been getting more vocal, arguing that the risks of protecting the two fugitives became too great. They had to leave Mexico and return to the very place they barely escaped two years ago.
     
    Maggie got up, went back inside, floorboards creaking under her bare feet. David turned around, smiled at her.
    “Rosa, come inside! Rosa!” a voice of their landlady from below. “Come in, you’ll catch a cold!”
    “No, grandma, I won’t,” a laughing voice of a precocious four year old.
    Maggie’s heart gave a pang. The day they moved in six weeks ago, cheeky Rosa came in and introduced herself like a tiny adult. There was an immediate affection between Maggie and the child. Soon, she’d have to give up Rosa.

Richmond, Virginia, USA
     
    Three men and a woman gathered around a small conference table in a richly adorned business office with a panoramic view of the city.
    “I brought you here to discuss a very important project for our company,” opened the owner of the office. He was the youngest of the four, in his early forties, tall, clean cut, impeccably dressed, straight posture alluding to a military background.
    “Erik, we just won the FBI contract worth almost half a billion in annual revenue,” smiled the woman. She looked to be in her sixties, the oldest at the meeting. “You are going to top that?”
    “Have faith, Nancy. I don’t mean to diminish the FBI win – you’ve done an amazing job on that – but this is bigger.”
    “Well, are you going to tease us or come out with it?” growled one of the men good-naturedly. He was the only one in the room that did not carry himself with a military bearing. If anything, he was substantially overweight, his stomach spilling over a belt buckle, his face sweaty and a color of a raw steak. “Because unlike you, a high-flying CEO, I have some grunt budget work to do. Making sure that this company of yours can actually pay its bills.”
    “I know Dean, I know, the CFO makes trains run on time. All right, here it is: I just agreed to provide protection and security services for John Dimon!”
    The man called Erik paused for an effect. But his listeners appeared to be more flabbergasted than enthused.
    “You mean the presidential candidate, the head of the Spirit of ’76 party?” asked the man who’d been silent so far. Despite a rainy day outside, he was dressed in a white cotton suit. His appearance and a slight drawl reminded one of an actor playing a pre-Civil War Southern gentleman, except for his very hard eyes.
    “Yes, that’s the one,” confirmed Erik. “Blair, you don’t seem to be excited about it.”
    “I am not excited about it either,” the fat man spread his hands. “Personally, I like John Dimon and plan to vote for him, but how are we going to make money on this? And I wonder how it will impact the rest of our business. Dimon is not an establishment candidate, we risk antagonizing some of our potential customers.”
    “Dean, I promise you that we’ll be making more money on this than on any of our projects, including Nancy’s beloved FBI contact! And as for impact on the rest of our business, we were not planning to bid on any new government business for the next few months and we will not have the resources for that