The Killer Collective (John Rain, #10; Ben Treven #4; Livia Lone #3)(9)

She walked down the corridor. Trahan was standing behind the table, a tall brunette in a gray pantsuit and a lightweight down jacket across from him. FBI, Livia decided. The lightweight down looked like something that would pack up well for traveling. A male agent would have lost the suit jacket, but women dressing that casually risked being taken less seriously than their male counterparts. Beyond which, something in her stance, her posture, suggested authority over Trahan, though to his credit it had sounded as though he’d been arguing gamely before Livia came in.

Trahan’s laptop was closed—the first time Livia had ever seen that. She didn’t like it.

They both looked at her, their expressions grim. “Livia,” Trahan said. He gestured to the woman. “This is Special Agent Smith, head of VCAC.”

VCAC was the FBI’s Violent Crimes Against Children program, part of the Criminal Investigative Division. Livia knew of Smith but had never dealt with her. Counterpart interactions with heads of federal divisions typically happened at higher pay grades. She said nothing, wondering what the hell was going on.

Smith nodded an acknowledgment. “Detective Lone. I wish I were meeting you with better news. I’m afraid this operation has been terminated.”

Livia walked over to the end of the table, creating a moment to collect herself before responding, knowing the pause would come across as confidence, though in fact it was the product of confusion. She set down the cappuccino and looked at Trahan. Aware of the potential for political pushback, she had told him to keep the encryption app between the two of them until they’d had a chance to investigate further. He’d told her he would. She’d thought it was understood their agreement would hold until they had a chance to discuss it again. Now she realized that not checking in with him sooner had been a mistake.

She looked at Trahan. “You told them, didn’t you?”

He could barely look at her. “I had to.”

“Trahan reports to me,” Agent Smith said. “He has a duty—”

“He has a contract.”

“Whatever you want to call it. He’s required to keep me in the loop about all important operational developments.”

“You’re telling me the Secret Service is shutting down a child-pornography investigation.”

Smith’s eyes narrowed. “That is not what I’m telling you. I’m telling you the FBI is shutting down this investigation.”

“Why?”

“It has been determined that the images being posted on the site as bona fides—”

Livia couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Posted by the FBI!”

“—could themselves be construed to be child pornography. And as you know, in the United States, posting such images is illegal even for a law-enforcement agency in the course of an investigation.”

Livia took a deep breath, knowing she was running too hot. Still, it was maddening. Presumably because of the rules Smith had just mentioned, Child’s Play required that all members post new video of child porn at least once a month. The requirement was canny, as it tended to prevent law enforcement from infiltrating the site. But the FBI had gotten around it by hiring a Hollywood green-screen specialist to doctor existing videos to make them look like new ones.

“Those images aren’t real,” Livia said, knowing she’d already lost, but determined to try to salvage what she could.

Smith nodded. “Parts of them are real, as I understand it. Look, we should both acknowledge that this was a legal call. And I don’t think either of us is in a good position to second-guess the lawyers at the Justice Department.”

Livia leaned forward, her palms on the table to either side of the laptop she used while working in the loft. She wasn’t going to leave without it—it was her only way of logging in to Child’s Play, and her only record of the members they’d managed to uncover so far.

“Agent Smith. Do me a favor. Don’t piss down my back and tell me it’s raining. This is about the Secret Service. Terry knows it. I know it. And you know it.”

Smith glanced at the laptop. “If you’re thinking about walking off with that laptop, I can guarantee you’d be prosecuted for theft of Bureau property.”

Strangely, Smith looked almost sad when she said it. Less issuing a dire threat than describing an unfortunate fact.

Livia looked in her eyes, trying to find an opening. “We’ve uncovered five members—identified them by name—already. We can at least make those arrests. All we need is—”

“The suspects you’ve identified won’t be arrested. Or prosecuted. At least not in connection with this operation.”

Livia realized she should have seen that coming. Still, it shocked her. “We’ve made a case—a fucking good case—against five degenerates trafficking in child porn—in child torture—and you’re going to let them go on preying on children?”

“This is not my decision.”

“Do you know what hurtcore is, Agent Smith?”

Smith didn’t respond.

“It’s a pedophile subculture. The point isn’t just to cause pain. It’s to cause damage. Not just to break a child’s body, but to destroy the child’s soul. Terry couldn’t watch it. Most people can’t. Do you want me to show you some? Just so you’ll understand what you’re enabling by shutting down this operation.”