Page 125 of The Fourth Option
“I know.”
Fisk tilted his head. “What are we doing here, Jarrett?”
“We have two crime scenes in New Orleans that seem to be connected. One of the murder victims was John Staub’s widow, Leigh Ann Staub. Somebody killed four bangers at the scene. Then two cops were gunned down in a drug house in the same area where John’s son, Connor, died of an apparent OD. We think it was the same shooter.”
“I’m sorry to hear about John’s family. He was good. But notthatgood.”
“Meaning what?”
“Meaning he wasn’t good enough to come back from the dead to avenge his wife and kid.”
“How well did you know him?”
“Well enough, but we weren’t tight. I’m not Ground Branch. I was a case officer, operational level. Staub was tactical.”
“That’s what I’m after.”
“What?”
“Insight on his friends and associates.”
“Like I said, we weren’t close.”
Stanton pulled a file from his bag.
“John Staub was an assaulter at SEAL Team Six for ten years. Tight community. When they get out, some of them find a home here.”
“Here?”
“At the Agency.”
“That’s true,” Fisk confirmed.
“I looked through Department of Defense records and compared them to the federal employee database. I was able to identify twenty-three operators that Staub overlapped with at SEAL Team Six who went on to work with the CIA.”
“Like you said, it’s not uncommon.”
“But only one of them served in Afghanistan at the same time as Staub and you.”
“Chris Walker,” Fisk said.
“What can you tell me about him?”
“Some sort of amateur philosopher. We went through the Farm together, but he kept to himself. Issues with authority. He was always trouble.”
“That so?”
“Jarrett, if you came all the way here to confirm that Walker was Agency and that he was a problem, you have it.”
“I came all the way here to show you this.” Stanton opened the file and pulled out a series of still photos from the surveillance camera at the Federal Building in New Orleans. He handed them to Fisk.
“As you can see, not enough for facial recognition. I have the video on my phone out in the lockbox in case that might help.”
“I don’t need it.”
“You recognize him?”
Fisk dropped the photos back on the table.
