Karl
“I f*****g knew there was going to be a catch,” I said under my breath, shaking my head at how unsurprising this all was. “I just knew it.”
“What was that?” the FBI tech asked as he wired me up with the listening device beneath my shirt and light jacket.
“Huh?” I asked. “Oh, nothing, man. We almost done?”
“Almost.”
I was sitting in the back of an FBI van, inside the parking garage of Volkov Arms down in Baton Rouge, two days after Claire had given me the good news over the phone.
Turns out, the case wasn't as airtight as they thought it would be. At least, the US Attorney's Office didn't seem to think so. For something this big, with so much money and creative accounting going on, so many go betweens and no video of the Wolf touching the money, they needed proof. Real proof.
An
