Chapter 6: What Briggs Had on Rourke
He pulled a manila envelope from under the table.
Savannah did not reach for it.
"You just happened to have that ready," she said.
"I've been waiting for someone to come through that gate for about six months." He pushed the envelope toward her.
"I didn't know it would be you specifically.
But I knew someone was coming."
"Because Rourke was going to give you up eventually."
"Because Rourke gives everyone up eventually.
It's what he does.
He builds something, he uses people to build it, and when the structure gets shaky he finds a name to offer." Briggs tapped the envelope.
"My name was always going to be the one he offered.
I just made sure I had something to offer back."
Savannah looked at the envelope.
She didn't touch it.
"What's inside?"
"Manifests.
Routing logs.
Three years of freight records with Rourke's signature authorizing the modified routes." He sat back.
"And phone records.
His number, my number, and two numbers that trace back to distribution points your agency has been watching separately.
The calls connect everything."
"Why didn't you bring this to federal authorities six months ago when you say you first knew?"
Briggs smiled.
It was not a warm smile.
"Because Dwight Rourke is a captain in the county sheriff's department.
And the two men outside that gate are the only protection I have on a twelve-acre lot at the end of a road that nobody drives down by accident."
Savannah let that sit for a moment.
"You were afraid of him."
"I am afraid of him," Briggs said.
"Present tense."
"And you think handing me this envelope solves that problem."
"I think handing you that envelope makes me a witness instead of a suspect.
Those are two very different positions." He folded his hands again.
"I ran freight.
I moved legitimate cargo.
When Rourke started using my routes, I didn't know what was moving at first.
By the time I understood, I was already in deep enough that walking away wasn't simple."
"But you kept the records."
"Every one of them."
Savannah looked at the envelope one more time.
Then she looked at the two men standing near the door.
"I need them to wait outside," she said.
Briggs considered it.
Then he nodded at the two men.
They stepped out.
The door closed.
"The records in this envelope," Savannah said.
"Are they the originals or copies?"
"Copies.
Originals are stored separately."
"Where?"
"Somewhere Rourke can't reach.
You'll get the location when I have something in writing from your office."
"That's not how this works."
"I know how it works," Briggs said.
"I also know you walked into this yard without backup, which tells me you're running this operation close to the chest for a reason.
That reason is probably that you don't entirely trust the local chain either.
Am I wrong?"
Savannah said nothing.
"I didn't think so." He pushed the envelope another inch toward her.
"Take it.
Have your people look at it.
Then come back and tell me I'm lying."
She picked up the envelope.
She did not open it.
She held it flat against the table with one hand.
"Here's what I need you to understand, Mr.
Briggs.
If what you're telling me is true, your cooperation has value.
Real value.
But if one piece of this doesn't hold — if one signature is altered, one routing log has been adjusted to protect yourself further — the cooperation disappears and what's left is obstruction." She looked at him steadily.
"Do you understand what I'm telling you?"
"Completely."
"Good." She stood.
"Don't leave this county.
Don't contact Rourke.
Don't contact Greer.
Don't contact anyone connected to this until you hear from me directly."
"And my safety in the meantime?"
Savannah picked up the envelope.
"Don't give Rourke a reason to move before we do.
That's your safety for now."
She walked to the door.
Her hand was on the handle when Briggs spoke again.
"Agent Cole."
She stopped.
"Rourke knows your name now.
Greer would have told him more than just that there was a federal agent in the district.
He'd have told him your name."
She didn't turn around.
"I know."
"He'll come at you sideways.
That's how he works.
He doesn't come at things directly."
"Thank you, Mr.
Briggs."
She stepped outside into the gravel lot.
The afternoon light had shifted while she was inside.
Longer shadows now across the freight containers.
Reyes had the engine running.
She got in and set the envelope on her knee.
"Torres?" Reyes asked.
"Drive first.
Then I'll call her."
They moved back through the blue gate.
The two guards watched them go without expression.
Savannah's phone buzzed in her jacket.
She pulled it out.
A text from Captain Rourke.
Sent four minutes ago while she had been sitting across from Briggs.
Five words this time.
May you like
*We need to meet.
Tonight.*
