FBI, New York
"I'll be in Washington tomorrow, we can talk about it then,"
Tyrone Duncan said emphatically into his desk telephone.
"Ty, I've been on your side and defended you since I came on board, you know that." Bob Burnson was pleading with Ty. "But on this one, I have no control. You've been poking into areas that don't concern you, and I'm catching heat."
"I'm working on one damn case, Bob. One. Computer crime. But it keeps on touching this fucking blackmail fiasco and it's getting on everyone's nerves. There's a lot more to this than ransoms and hackers and I've been having some luck. I'll show you what I have tomorrow. Sixish. Ebbets."
"I'll be there. Ty," Burnson said kindly. "I don't know the specifics, but you've been shaking the tree. I hope it's worth it."
"It is, Bob. I'd bet my ass on in."
"You are."
* * * * *
Thursday, January 14
Walter Reed Medical Center
"How is he doing?" Scott asked.