Panic

by Jeff Abbott

  ‘Don’t threaten me, son,’ Bedford said.

  ‘I have an alternate suggestion,’ Carrie said. ‘Maybe one that will make you both happy.’

  Both men waited.

  ‘If Evan trades his dad for this laptop, it requires a meeting. That brings Jargo out in the open. I know him – he’ll handle this himself.’

  ‘Where is this exchange, Evan?’ Bedford asked.

  ‘Miami. Read my ticket, Bricklayer.’

  ‘I’m not your enemy. I never was,’ Bedford said.

  ‘I pick the meeting site,’ Evan said to Carrie. ‘Once I’m in Miami.’

  Carrie turned to her boss. ‘This meeting pulls Jargo into the light. It’s our best chance to stop him.’

  ‘And he’ll be lightly guarded. Maybe just Dezz. He won’t tell his operatives a word about this if he can avoid it,’ Evan said quietly. ‘No way his network knows they’re on the verge of being exposed. He would face a mass, very fatal defection.’

  ‘You really think,’ Bedford said, ‘that you’re running the show now.’

  ‘I am. And I don’t want my dad put at risk,’ Evan said. ‘Anything happens to him, you get nothing.’

  ‘I envy your dad, having your loyalty,’ Bedford said. ‘But your dad’s already at risk, because I’m quite sure Jargo has no intention of letting you leave that meeting alive.’

  ‘I’ve considered that possibility. I have a fallback. We’re doing this my way.’

  Bedford put his hands flat on the table. ‘Would y’all please excuse me and Evan for a moment?’

  The others got up and left, Carrie shaking her head. She waited for Palmer to step out, then said to Evan’s back, ‘If you love me, you’ll trust me. It’s not a complicated equation. Don’t fight us. Let us help you.’

  He didn’t look at her. She closed the door behind her.

  Bedford said, ‘This room isn’t bugged. But it is sound-proof. Just so you know.’

  ‘Palmer’s not taping?’

  ‘No, he’s not.’ Bedford took a sip of water. ‘If you’ve arranged a trade of these files on this laptop for your father, I assume you’ve spoken with your dad.’

  Evan nodded.

  Bedford said, ‘Tell me what he said to you. Word forword.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because, Evan, I have had a contact among the Deep operatives for the past year. No one else in the CIA even knows I had a contact, including Carrie. I don’t know his real name. Your father might be my contact, and he might have sent me a message through you. He knows we would be searching for you until we had conclusive evidence that you were dead.’

  Evan listened to the silence in the room: his own heartbeat, the hum of the heater fending off the wet cold outside.

  ‘You’re lying. You’re just trying to get me to cooperate with you.’

  ‘Remember I asked you about what your father said on the tape Jargo played at the zoo. I wasn’t so interested in the story Jargo peddled to your father; I was listening for code words. Just in case your dad was my guy.’

  ‘No.’ Evan’s voice rose. ‘If Dad was your contact, you would have already known about Goinsville. About the other Deeps. About how to find Jargo and Khan.’

  Bedford shook his head. ‘The contact approached me. I’ve never met him. We spoke on the phone; he mailed me cell phones, to be used once, then destroyed. He was extraordinarily careful. I don’t even know how he knew to find me, that I was the one charged with finding the Deeps. But he did. He agreed to work with me on a highly limited basis. I wanted to force his hand to do more – to tell me who he was, to tell me more about the Deeps – but he refused. I didn’t even know his location, where he lived. God knows I tried to trace him; he always hid his tracks. He gave me nuggets that proved his good intentions: a warning about an Albanian terrorist cell planning an attack in Paris; the location of a Pakistani nuclear scientist who wanted to sell secrets to Iran; the hideout of a Peruvian criminal ring. Every bit of evidence he gave me was correct. There was never face-to-face contact. We never paid him for his services.’

  ‘Why would he help you?’

  ‘My contact said he disagreed with certain missions Jargo assigned him. He thought they were harmful to American interests. It seemed like he had a complicated relationship with Jargo; he wanted the operations to fail, but he didn’t want to hand Jargo over. So he contacted me. I provided him with disinformation to feed back to Jargo’s clients.’ Bedford shook his head. ‘My contact doesn’t know where the other Deeps are to be found. The network remains highly compartmentalized. But he fed us valuable information about what kind of work Jargo did, the nuances and shifts in the underground market for corporate and government secrets.’ Bedford poured himself and Evan glasses of water, pushed a glass toward Evan. ‘I had an escape clause with my contact – that when it was time to run, he would identify himself to me and I would get him and his family out. Away from Jargo. To safety. It’s what your mother wanted for you. I can’t help your mother but I can help you.’

  ‘You could have told me about my dad before.’

  ‘I don’t know if your dad is my contact, Evan. And I wasn’t going to let anyone know I had a contact close to Jargo unless I had absolutely no other choice. We’ve reached that point. Tell me whatever your dad said. Word for word, if you can.’

  Evan pulled the PDA from his pocket, unlocked it with his thumbprint, tapped the Voice Memo application. The conversation with Dezz, then Jargo, then his father, spilled out from the PDA, loud and clear. The two men stared at each other while Mitchell Casher’s voice filled the small room. When it was done, Bedford closed his eyes.

  ‘Look at me,’ Evan said. ‘Is he your contact? Is he?’

  ‘Yes.’

  A tightness seized Evan’s chest. ‘If Mom and Dad had just trusted each other…’ He didn’t finish the sentence. Mom would have known Dad was helping the CIA. Dad would have known Mom had stolen Jargo’s client list as a shield to protect their son. They could have stopped Jargo without a shot being fired, and Mom would be alive.

  ‘Lies were integral to their lives,’ Bedford said. ‘I’m so sorry, Evan.’

  Silence filled the room until Evan spoke. ‘Okay. So he’s your contact. He’s in trouble. What do you do to help him?’

  ‘Did he give you those Graham Greene novels?’ Bedford asked.

  ‘What?’ The question wasn’t what he was expecting. ‘Yes. Before I started at Rice. He said I should read really brilliant books before I had to wade into the crap you read in college.’

  ‘Did he ever mention the “if one loved, one feared” line?’ Bedford leaned forward.

  ‘I don’t remember it if he did. But Greene is his favorite author, so he always talked about the books with me. The line sounds vaguely familiar.’

  ‘The quote is from The Ministry of Fear. It’s a bitter truth. We always risk when we love. It’s also a code phrase I established with your father.’ Bedford folded his fingers over his lips.

  ‘Tell me what it means.’

  ‘It means, Forget me. I can’t be rescued. ’

  Evan felt his poker face crack. ‘No. No. Your code doesn’t matter now. You have to help him.’

  Bedford straightened his stance, with quiet confidence that suggested the battle between them was over. ‘Evan. In this business you lose people. It’s war. It’s sad. I would have liked to have met your dad face to face, to have known him. I believe that I might have even liked him. But he’s telling me to walk away. I don’t know if he believes Jargo, that the CIA killed your mother. It may not matter what he believes. He expected if the CIA caught you, you’d be brought to me, and I’d ask you about anything unusual that he said. Whatever Jargo is setting up in this meeting is a trap. I can’t risk it. My team is too small. We’ll have to wait for another chance.’

  ‘You can’t abandon him.’

  ‘I can’t risk resources to save a dead man. He’s warning me off. I’m sure to save you from being anywhere near Jargo.’ Bedford stood.
‘My sympathies. We’ll head to Washington instead of Miami. We’ll get you in a protection program. The government is extraordinarily grateful for what you’ve done.’

  Evan stayed in his seat.

  ‘I know this is hard for you to hear. You’ve lost your mother. But, son, you have Carrie.’

  ‘I know.’ Evan stared at the warm mahogany of the tabletop.

  ‘I give you every assurance we can hide you successfully. Think about where you might want to live. Ireland, or Australia, or-’

  Evan looked up at Bedford. ‘No. We’re going to Miami.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Evan, but no. Out of respect for your father-’

  ‘The laptop. Through my film connections, I found a very good hacker. We already removed and hid the files. You’ll never find them. You try and access the laptop without the right password, it reformats itself. Only I know where Jargo’s client list is. And I’m not telling you unless you get my father back.’

  ‘Evan, listen to me-’

  ‘The discussion is over.’ Evan stood. ‘Are we going to Miami or not?’

  40

  ‘Y ou’re working a scam on me, Evan,’ Bedford whispered so he wouldn’t be overheard on the CIA jet. They flew miles above the Atlantic, arrowing south toward Florida. Evan sat in the back, Bedford next to him. Carrie sat at a front window. A fourth passenger, a beefy-necked older man who Evan presumed was a CIA officer Bedford trusted, chatted with her. He’d introduced himself as Frame, no first name mentioned, so Evan was unsure if Frame was a code name like Bricklayer or his real surname. Frame made small talk about the Washington Redskins, apparently his preferred subject. Carrie smiled and nodded and kept glancing at Evan. ‘I know a scam when I see it.’

  ‘Excuse me?’ Evan asked.

  ‘I don’t think you really have the files, at least, not all of them. You’re a responsible kind of guy. If you could take Jargo down in an instant, you would. So you’re not telling me everything you know about these files.’

  Evan remained silent.

  Bedford gave him a crooked smile. ‘You are a piece of work, young man. Blackmailing the CIA.’

  ‘Not the whole Agency. Just you, Bricklayer.’

  ‘Piece of work,’ Bedford repeated. ‘I could use a young man like you, Evan.’

  ‘No, thank you.’ He knew Bedford meant it as a compliment, but he wanted no more of this world. ‘I don’t think I’m conning you any more than you’re conning me.’

  Bedford looked hurt. ‘I’ve been totally straight with you about our plan of attack.’ Bedford had outlined a simple scheme: get Evan to a safe house where he would call and arrange the meeting. He would take a laptop that looked just like Khan’s; Bedford assured him Jargo would never get close enough to it to spot any differences or check a serial number. Evan would suggest an immediate rendezvous at a secluded spot where Bedford and his team would take cover, not giving the Deeps time to set up their own counteroperation. Jargo and Dezz would be taken alive if possible, dead if required.

  ‘Yes, and your plan sounds thorough,’ Evan said. ‘Just like Pettigrew taking us around London was.’

  Bedford leaned back. ‘Everyone on the team has been vetted. They’re clean. Pettigrew wasn’t a team member, he was a decorated field officer who wouldn’t ask too many questions.’

  ‘Jargo’s worried about his CIA contacts being exposed. He eliminated one by getting rid of Pettigrew.’

  ‘I suspect he was a client, not an operative. He was one of the most senior CIA officers in Europe,’ Bedford said. ‘You see the challenge I face. How deep Jargo’s reach can be. But I promise you, Evan, I’ll honor our deal. I’ll bring your dad home. This is the best chance we’ve ever had to get Jargo. We’ll have additional personnel in Florida to help us. I’m finally getting every resource I need.’

  Evan glanced toward the front of the plane. Carrie watched him. Frame was reading the Guardian ’s headlines to her and commiserating about the state of the world.

  Evan might not get another chance. He leaned in close enough to Bedford to smell the mints on the man’s breath. ‘There’s a reason Jargo’s been able to infiltrate you, and that’s because he knows you so well. The Deeps are a CIA problem, aren’t they?’

  Bedford frowned.

  ‘Indulge me for a minute. Spy networks don’t spring up out of orphanages. They have to be cultivated. The Agency spawned them. Alexander Bast set up the Deeps for the CIA. You could have agents on American soil who you would never have to acknowledge. A ready-made group of agents you could use for all sorts of clandestine jobs you don’t have to explain to Congress, or to anyone. No paper trail of their involvement with the Agency. No blame if anything ever went wrong.’

  Bedford said, ‘I think that’s an incorrect hypothesis.’

  ‘So who set up this network?’

  ‘Alexander Bast, for his own reasons. I suppose he wanted to make money. Freelance spying. Mr. Bast was a man ahead of his time.’ Bedford stared ahead.

  ‘You’ll never, ever admit it was the CIA, will you? I’m wasting breath asking you.’

  Bedford smiled.

  ‘You’ll kill Jargo, even if you don’t need to kill him to save my dad. You don’t want him talking about your deals with him, the fact he was pinch-hitting dirty jobs for American intelligence. And you can take over the network. Worm your way into every intelligence service and business that uses the Deeps.’

  ‘When you and your dad are safe, the Deeps are no longer your concern.’

  ‘They have families like mine. And Carrie’s. Kids and spouses who have no idea what they do. You’ll hunt them down, won’t you? Or use them for your own agenda.’

  ‘Evan. Please. Not your concern. Your only worry is getting your dad back. As soon as we have him, the two of you are on a plane to a warm, distant paradise, new names, cash, a fresh start.’

  ‘What about Carrie?’

  ‘Her, too, if she wants to go with you.’

  Evan closed his eyes. He did not sleep. He heard Bedford rise from the chair, cough, pour a drink of water, go talk on the jet’s phone, presumably to check on arrangements in Miami. Then Evan heard Carrie slide into the leather chair next to him.

  ‘So. You’ve gotten everything you want.’

  ‘Not quite yet.’ Kept his eyes closed.

  ‘The past day has been hell on me. I thought you were dead. I thought I had made a mistake, that I had failed to protect you.’

  Evan opened his eyes, tilted his head close to hers. ‘I don’t blame you. I trust you,’ he said in a low whisper, his mouth a bare inch from hers. ‘So you should know I don’t have the files yet.’

  Her eyes went wide. ‘But you told Bedford…’

  ‘I told Bedford I had the laptop, with the files on it. My hacker did crack the password on the laptop. But all the files are encrypted. My hacker hasn’t been able to break the encryption yet. He may not be able to. We could be at a dead end.’

  ‘So the laptop we have…’

  ‘Isn’t Khan’s. It’s just a new one, the same model, bought this morning in London. It’s my decoy, my fake-out. We put a program on it that will appear to reformat the hard drive if anyone attempts to crack the log-in password. My hacker has Khan’s laptop back in London, and he’s trying his best to unlock the files. But he hasn’t yet. So I’m trusting you. Tell Bedford and maybe he’ll break his deal with me to hide me and Dad. I’ll only give him the real laptop once Dad and I are clear and gone. And I mean, gone under our own terms. In identities we’ve set up. Once we’re gone, I don’t want Bedford or the Agency to ever find us. Ever. My family’s involvement ends now and forever. So, you have to choose, Carrie. If you want to come with me and Dad, you can. I want to be with you. If you don’t, if you want to stay with the Agency, that’s your choice. But I’m trusting you with this information.’

  ‘What if we can’t get your dad back or if Jargo has already killed him?’

  ‘I think my dad is Jargo’s weakness. I can’t be sure, but…’ Evan p
aused – remembering Jargo’s cryptic words the first time they’d spoken on the phone: We’re family, in a way, you and I; hearing Dezz’s taunt: We’ll all be like family – seeing two boys in a faded photograph who shared similar features. ‘I don’t think Jargo will kill him.’

  ‘He killed your mother.’

  ‘But Jargo could have killed him when he found out Mom stole the files, and he didn’t. He’s kept him alive, fed him a whole story about the CIA killing Mom.’

  ‘Will you give the CIA Khan’s laptop if your hacker can’t break it open?’

  ‘Yes. I still vanish, under my own terms, and I’ll arrange for Bedford to get the real laptop. Maybe the CIA can crack the encryption if we can’t. I don’t want Jargo running free. I want him taken down just as much as you do. If I die today, the hacker turns over the laptop to MI5 in London, with a letter explaining what’s hidden on the system.’

  She looked at him, then looked at Bedford.

  ‘I keep wishing we had met in that coffee shop, just like regular people,’ Evan said, his voice a whisper. ‘That we had our dates and got to know each other, without you already knowing everything about me. That we built trust the way everyday people do. I trust you now. But you have to trust me.’

  Not a moment’s hesitation. ‘I do.’

  He put his arm around her. She closed her eyes, leaned into his shoulder. He closed his eyes, and this time he slept, heavily. When he woke up, she was asleep, nestled against his shoulder. For a moment the nearness of her broke his heart. Then the plane began its descent toward Florida, toward Fort Lauderdale.

  I’m coming, Dad, and they won’t know what the hell hit them.

  SATURDAY MARCH 19

  41

  F lorida at midnight The air hung heavy with damp, the clouds blotted out the stars. The CIA jet shuttled to a remote hangar at the Fort Lauderdale/Hollywood airport, and two cars – a black Lincoln Navigator and a Lincoln Town Car – waited for the passengers. A woman and a man, dressed in dark suits, stood by the cars. The woman stepped forward as they approached.