Page 151 of False Flag

Guy was desperate. It could be even worse than the dark web had made it seem.

He cleared his throat to get the man’s attention as he entered the room.

Osborne startled, and confusion clouded his features. He looked like he’d aged a decade in the last hour. His face was both red and somehow a sickly gray. But alarm faded as he took in Teague, who was not the bratva assassin he’d probably been expecting. “Who the fuck are you, and what are you doing in my house?”

“I’m the man who can save your life.”

“You one of the fuckers who stole from me?”

“It was tempting, but no. I don’t fancy the idea of bratva coming after me.”

“Who are you?”

“Me? I’m nobody. Just a guy stationed at NAS Whidbey. Live off base…and I’ve got a boat. I can get you out of here. Help you get lost.”

“What’s in it for you? I can’t pay you at the moment.”

“No. I would imagine you need to get back to Letora for that. But it’s not money I want.”

“What do you want?”

Teague approached the man’s desk and dropped into the visitor’s chair. “Answers.”

“To what questions?”

Teague pulled an asthma inhaler out of his pocket and set it on the desk. “The FBI is on the way here. Bratva and maybe even Triads are probably not far behind. The way I see it, you can face the FBI and tell them the same thing you tell me, but your pals in Russia will know you talked. They won’t like that. But if you tell me, I’ll get you out of here before the FBI has the chance to ask a single question. Then you can convince your buddies you’re keeping their secrets. I certainly won’t tell a soul.” He pushed the inhaler across the desk. “But if you don’t want to tell me or the FBI, or face some very pissed-off Russians and who knows which other groups you’ve screwed over, then that there is your best bet. I presume you know what’s in it?”

Osborne’s eyes were a little glazed. Whether he was stoned or petrified, Teague didn’t know. Or particularly care. But it was probably both.

The billionaire finally nodded.

“Start talking.” Teague glanced at his watch. “We need to be out of here in five minutes. Ten tops. My car is on the other side of the woods. My boat’s a short drive from there.”

“I’ll tell you on the way.”

“No.”

“What do you want to know?”

Teague took a slow breath. This was it. He laid out his questions and listened to Osborne’s answers.

Five minutes later, he rose to his feet and pushed the asthma inhaler closer to the billionaire. “Changed my mind. Good luck.”

Osborne jumped to his feet. “You said if I talked⁠—”

“I lied. Best of luck to you. You’ll need it.”

There was a loud bang on the door—which Teague had locked behind him. They had a minute or two.

“I’m guessing that’s FBI. Shall I let them in on my way out?”

Osborne lunged toward him, but Teague raised a pistol. “If I have to shoot you, it won’t be fatal. You’ll still have to face them.”

The knock sounded again. More insistent.

Casper Osborne looked nothing like his publicity photos. His face was haggard, and he was definitely high—which was likely the only reason he hadn’t fled the moment he discovered he’d been cleaned out in one of the biggest hacking heists of all time.

Teague knew Victoria Graves had help from the inside, but that didn’t make her work any less impressive.