The Detachment - Barry Eisler [84]
The first thing we needed was commo. I’d examined the mobile phones Horton had given us and had found no tracking devices, but something had enabled him to fix us at the Capital Hilton, and we’d dumped his phones all the way back in Culpeper just to be sure. We needed new ones, and I tasked Dox, who had a forged ID he claimed was ice-cold, with procuring us four prepaids from multiple vendors. Larison and Treven’s job was to fix Mimi Kei. We didn’t know where she lived, so the starting point would be the UCLA Film School website and the school itself. I gave myself the glory job of finding a coin-operated laundry and washing our clothes. We were all wearing our last clean ones.
Before we set out, Larison used the motel’s free Wi-Fi and the iPad to access Mimi Kei’s Facebook page. She was beautiful—a half-black, half-Asian mix, early twenties, dark hair in ringlets down to her shoulders. Full lips and a vivacious smile. Larison had been right about the photos with Horton: the hard, professional countenance was completely absent, replaced by that of a beaming father.
“Interesting that she doesn’t identify him in the captions,” I said. “Just ‘my dad.’”
Larison nodded. “I’m sure he’s explained to her that she needs to be discreet about who her father is. It’s not like he’s the president, but he has some capable enemies. I’m guessing that’s why her page is so privacy protected, too. Unusual for a grad student doing her best to network in the movie world.”
Treven said, “We shouldn’t assume she’s just a clueless civilian. If Hort taught her some things about watching her back, he would have taught her others. It’s not impossible he’s even told her to be extra careful right now.”
I looked at him. “That’s a good point. And now you’ve got me wondering…”
I thought for a minute, then said, “We know Horton’s concerned about Kei’s safety. So what does he have in place to protect her?”
“No one knows about her,” Larison said.
“I don’t know about ‘no one,’” I said, “but yes. Horton’s protecting her, essentially, by making her an unknown. There’s a name for that, isn’t there?”
Treven nodded. “Security through obscurity.”
“Exactly,” I said. “Security through obscurity. Which can be a useful supplement to other forms of security, but would a man like Horton rely on it entirely? Rely on it to protect his daughter?”
“I see what you’re saying,” Dox said. “Maybe he’d rely on it in ordinary times, but now isn’t ordinary. He’s involved in false flag attacks and a planned coup, which is crazy enough, but on top of it all, he showed his hand when he made a run at us in D.C. He’s got to be worried about his daughter now.”
“Good,” I said. “Now, put yourself in his head. He tells himself it’s probably fine, no one has a way of even knowing about Kei, but still. What does he do?”
“He calls her,” Treven said. “Tells her to be careful.”
“Does she listen?”
Treven shook his head. “Film school student, far from his world? No. Not in a meaningful way. And even if she listened, he’d know she wouldn’t have the skills to really act on the warning.”
“Agreed. So now what does he do?”
Larison said, “He sends men. To watch her.”
I nodded. “Does he tell her he sent men?”
Treven said, “No. He doesn’t want to scare her.”
“Right,” I said. “Meaning they’re not functioning as bodyguards protecting a witting client. They need to hang back. So what are they doing right now?”
Larison said, “They’re figuring out what we would be doing. Where we would approach her. How. And they’re watching for that.”
I nodded. “And now we’re watching for them.”
There was nothing more to be said. Maybe we were giving Horton too much credit. Or maybe he deserved the credit but, after D.C., lacked the resources. Either way, we would assume the presence of opposition. And