"Is this confirmed?" she asked quietly.
"No ma'am," Scott said. "I read it this weekend and added up two and two and, well, it does raise some questions."
"I should say it does. Ones that I'm sure he will not be anxious to answer."
* * * * *
6 P.M., Washington, D.C.
"Who the hell are you pissing off and why?" Bob Burnson met
Tyrone and Scott at the Old Ebbett's Grill across the street from
Treasury at 6:00 PM.
Burnson insisted that their conversation be off the record, and reluctantly accepted that for Scott's assistance in Tyrone's investigation he would get an exclusive.
For a full half hour, Tyrone and Scott explained what they knew, just as they had to Senator Deere. Tyrone had other problems. "I've been running into all sorts of bullshit here, CI, and don't forget our midnight rendezvous."
Burnson was a reasonable man, and had every reason, more than two decades of reasons to believe the tale that Tyrone was telling him. Yet, at the same time, the story carried a wisp of the implausible. Hackers and Arabs? But, then, why was he getting heat that Ty was peeking under the wrong logs?
"What are you planning?" Bob asked them both.