the internal conflicts of ranking enemy officers and
the tactical reasons for shifting military personnel
into civilian positions after the cessation of
hostilities? No firm would have access to those
materials."
"They could be researched," said Joel, suddenly
not convinced himself.
"Well, these couldn't," Connal broke in, holding
up the page of typewritten names, his thumb on the
lower two columns listing the "decision makers' from
the Pentagon and the State Department. "Maybe
five or six three from each side at maximum but
not the rest. These are people above the ones I've
dealt with, men who do their jobs under a variety of
titles so they can't be reached bribed, blackmailed
or threatened. When you said you had names, I
assumed I'd recognize most of them, or at least half
of them. I don't. I only know the departmental
execs, upper-echelon personnel who have to go even
higher, who obviously report to these people. Press
couldn't have gotten these names himself or through
others on the outside. He wouldn't know where to
look and they wouldn't know where to look I
wouldn't know.'
Converse rose. "Are you sure you know what
you're talking about?"
"Yes. Someone probably more than one- deep
in the Washington cellars provided these names just
as he or they provided the material for those
dossiers."
"Do you know what you're saying?"
Connal stood still and nodded. "It's not easy for
me to say," he began grimly. "Press lied to us. He
lied to you by what he said, and to me by what he
didn't say. You're tied to a string and it goes right
back to Washington. And I wasn't to know anything
about it.'
"The puppet's in place.... " Joel spoke so softly
he could barely be heard as he walked aimlessly
across the room toward the bright sunlight
streaming through the balcony doors.
"What?' asked Fitzpatrick.
"Nothing, just a phrase that kept running
through my head when I heard about Anstett."
Converse turned. "But if there's a string, why have
they hidden it? Why did Avery hide it? For what
purpose?"
THE AQUITAINE PROGRESSION 269
The Navy lawyer remained motionless, his face
without expression. ' I don't think I have to answer
that. You answered it yourself yesterday afternoon
when we were talking about me and don't kid
yourself, Lieutenant, I knew exactly what you were
saying. 'I'll give you a name now and then that may
open a door . . . but that's all. Those were your
words. Freely translated, you were telling yourself
that the sailor you took on board might stumble on
to something, but in case he was taken by the wrong
people, they couldn't beat out of him what he didn't
know."
Joel accepted the rebuke, not merely because it
was justified, but because it made clear a larger
truth, one he had not understood on Mykonos. Beale
had told him that among those raising questions in
Washington were military men who for one reason
or another had not pursued their inquiries; they had
kept silent. They had kept silent where they might be
overheard, perhaps, but they had not totally kept
their silence. They had talked in quiet voices until
another quiet voice from San Francisco a man who
knew whom to reach courtesy of a brother-in-law in
San Diego made contact. They had talked together,
and out of their secret conversations had come a
plan. They needed an infiltrator, a man with the
expertise who had a loathing they could fuel and,
once fired, send out into the labyrinth.
The realisation was a shock, but oddly enough,
Joel could not fault the strategy. He did not even
fault the silence that remained after Preston
Halliday's murder; loud accusing voices would have
rendered that death meaningless. Instead, they had
stayed quiet, knowing that their puppet had the tools
to make his way through the maze of illegalities and
do the job they could not do themselves. He
understood that, too. But there was one thing
Converse could not accept, and that was his own
expendability as the puppet. He had tolerated being
left unprotected under the conditions outlined by
Avery Fowler-Preston Halliday, not under these. If
he was on a string, he wanted the puppeteers to
know he knew it. He also wanted the name of
someone in Bonn he could call, someone who was a
part of them. The old rules did not apply any longer,
a new dimension had been added.
In four hours he would be driven through the
iron gates of Erich Leifhelm's estate; he wanted
someone on the outside, a man Fitzpatrick could
reach if he did not come out by midnight. The
demons were pressing hard, thought Joel. Still, he
270 ROBERT LUDIUM
could not turn back. He was so close to trapping the
warlord of Saigon, so close to making up for so
much that had warped his life in ways no one would
ever understand.... No, not no one,' he reflected.
One person did, and she had said she could not
help him any longer. Nor had it been fair any
longer to seek her help.
"What's your decision?" said Connal.
"Decision?" asked Joel, startled.
"You don't have to go this afternoon. Throw it
all back! This belongs Stateside with the FBI in
conjunction with the Central Intelligence Agency
overseas. I'm appalled they didn't take that route."
Converse breathed the start of a reply, then
stopped. It had to be clear, not only to Fitzpatrick
but to himself. He thought he understood. He had
seen the look of profound panic in Avery Fowler's
eyes Preston Halliday's eyes and he had heard the
cry in his voice. The lies were his strategy, but the
look and the cry were his innermost feelings.
"Has it occurred to you, Commander, that they
can't take that route? That, perhaps, we're not
talking about men who can pick up a phone as
you said before and put those wheels in motion?
Or if they tried, they'd have their heads cut off,
perhaps literally, with an official and a bullet in the
back of their skulls? Let me add that I don't think
they're afraid for themselves any more than I
believe they chose the best man for the job, but I do
think they came to a persuasive conclusion. They
couldn't work from the inside because they didn't
know whom they could trust."
"Christ, you're a cold son of a bitch."
"Ice, Commander. We're dealing with a paranoid
fantasy called Aquitaine, and it's controlled by
proven, committed, highly intelligent and
resourceful men, who if they achieve what they've
set out to do will appear as the voices of strength
and reason in a world gone mad. T
hey'll control
that world our world because all other options
will pale beside their stability. Stability, counselor, as
opposed to chaos. What would you choose if you
were an everyday nine-to-fiver with a wife and kids,
and you could never be sure when you went home
at night whether or not your house had been broken
into, your wife raped, your kids strangled? You'd
opt for tanks in the street."
"With justification," said the Navy lawyer, the
two words spiraling quietly off into the air of the
sunlit room.
THE AQUITAINE PROGRESSION 271
"Believe that, sailor. They're banking on it, and
that's just what they're planning to do on an
international scale. It's only a few days or a few
weeks away whatever it is, wherever it is. If I can
just get an inkling . . ." Converse turned and started
for the door of his bedroom.
"Where are you going?" asked Connal.
'Beale's telephone number on Mykonos; it's in
my briefcase. He's my only contact and I want to talk
to him. I want him to know the puppet has just been
granted some unexpected free will."
Three minutes later Joel stood at the table, the
phone to his ear as the Greek operator in Athens
routed his call to the island of Mykonos. Fitzpatrick
sat on the couch, Chaim Abrahms' dossier in front of
him on the coffee table, his eyes on Converse.
"Are you getting through all right?" asked the
Navy lawyer.
"It's ringing now." The erratic, stabbing signals
kept repeating four, five, six times. On the seventh
the telephone in the Aegean was picked up.
"Herete?"
"Dr. Beale, please. Dr. Edward Beale."
"Tee tha thelete?"
"Beale. The owner of the house. Get him for me
please!" Joel turned to Fitzpatrick. "Do you speak
GreekP"
"No, but I've been thinking about taking it up."
"You do that." Converse listened again to the
male voice in Mykonos. Greek phrases were spoken
rapidly, none comprehensible. "Thank yout
Good-bye." Joel tapped the telephone bar several
times, hoping the overseas line was still open and the
English-speaking Greek operator was still there.
"Operator? Is this the operator in Athens? . . .
Good! I want to call another number on Mykonos,
the same billing in Bonn." Converse reached down
on the table for the instructions Preston Halliday had
given him in Geneva. "It's the Bank of Rhodes. The
number is . . ."
Moments later the waterfront banker, Kostas
Laskaris, was on the line. "Herete."
"Mr. Laskaris, this is Joel Converse. Do you
remember me?"
"Of course.... Mr. Converse?" The banker
sounded distant, somehow strange, as if wary or
bewildered.
"I've been trying to call Dr. Beale at the number you
272 ROBERT LUDLUM
gave me, but all I get is a man who can't speak
English. I wondered if you could tell me where
Beale is."
A quiet expulsion of breath could be heard over
the phone. "I wondered," said Laskaris quietly. "The
man you reached was a police officer, Mr. Converse.
I had him placed there myself. A scholar has many
valuable things."
"Why? What do you mean?"
"Shortly after sunrise this morning Dr. Beale
took his boat out of the harbor, accompanied by
another man. Several fishermen saw them. Two
hours ago Dr. Beale's boat was found crashed on
the rocks beyond the Stephanos. There was no one
on board."
I killed him. With a scaling knife dropping his
body over a cluster of sharks beyond the shoals of the
Stephanos.
Joel hung up the phone. Halliday, Anstett,
Beale, all of them gone all his contacts dead. He
was a puppet on the loose, his strings gone haywire,
leading only to shadows.
15
Erich Leifhelm's warlike skin paled further as
his eyes narrowed and his starched white lips
parted. Then blood rushed to his head as he sat
forward at the desk in his library and spoke into the
telephone. "What was that name again, London?"
"Admiral Hickman. He's the "
"No," interrupted the German sharply. "The
other one! The officer who has refused to release
the information."
"Fitzpatrick, an Irish name. He's the ranking
legal officer at the naval base in San Diego."
"A Lieutenant Commander Fitzpatrick?"
"Yes, how did you know?"
"Unglaublich! Diese Stum per!"
"Warum?" asked the Englishman. "In what sense?"
"He may be what you say he is in San Diego,
Englander, but he is not in San Diego! He's here in
Bonn!"
"Are you mad? No, of course, you're not. Are
you certain ?"
THE AQUITAINE PROGRESSION 273
"He's with Converse! I spoke to him myself. The
two are registered in his name at Das Rektorat! He
is how we found Converse!"
'There was no attempt to conceal the name?"
"On the contrary, he used his papers to gain
entrance!"
"How bloody third-rate," said London,
bewildered. "Or how downright sure of himself,"
added the Britisher, his tone changing. "A signal? No
one dares touch him?"
"Unsinn!It's not so."
"Why not?"
"He spoke to Peregrine, the ambassador. Our
man was there. Peregrine wanted to take him,
wanted him brought forcibly to the embassy. There
were complications; he got away."
"Our man wasn't very good, then."
"An obstruction. Some Schauspieler an actor.
Peregrine will not discuss the incident. He says
nothing."
"Which means no one will touch his naval officer
from California," concluded London. "There's a very
good reason.
"What is it?"
"He's the brother-in-law of Preston Halliday."
"Geneva! Mein Gott, they are into us!"
"Someone is, but not anyone with a great deal of
information. I agreed with Palo Alto, who also
agrees with our specialist in the Mossad with
Abrahms, as well."
"The Jew? What does the Jew say? What does he
say?"
"He claims this Converse is an agent flying blind
out of Washington."
"What more do you need ?"
"He is not to leave your house. Instructions will
follow."
Stunned, Undersecretary of State Brewster
Tolland hung up the phone, sank back in his chair,
then shot forward and pressed the appropriate
buttons on his console.
"Chesapeake," said the female voice. "Code, please?"
"Six thousand," said Tolland. "May I speak with
Consular Operations, Station Eight, please?"
"Station Eight requires "
"Plantagenet," interrupted the Undersecretary.
"Right away, sir."
"What is it, Six thousand?"
274 ROBERT LUDLUM
&
nbsp; 'Cut the horseshit, Harry, this is Brew. What
have you got running in Bonn we don't know
about?"
"Off the top of my head, nothing."
"How far off the top is that?"
"No, it's straight. You're current on everything
we're doing. There was an FRG review yesterday
morning, and I'd remember if there was anything
that excluded you."
"You might remember, but if I'm excluded I'm out."
"That's right, and I'd tell you as much if only to
keep you out, you know that. What's your
problem?"
"I just got off the scrambler with a very angry
ambassador, who may just call a very old friend at
Sixteen Hundred."
"Peregrine? What's his problem?"
"If it's not you, then someone's playing Cons Op.
It's supposedly a covert investigation of the
embassy his embassy somehow connected with
the Navy Department."
"The Navy? That's crazy I mean dumb crazyl
Bonn's a port?"
"Actually, I suppose it is."
"I never heard of the Bismarek or the Graf Spee
steaming around the Rhine. No way, Brew. We
don't have anything like that and we wouldn't have.
Do you have any names?"
"Yes, one," replied Tolland, looking down at a
pad with hastily scribbled notes on it. "An attorney
Robert Ludlum - Aquatain Progression.txt Page 42
