“In what way?” Noble’s tone was laced with concern.
“Purportedly, he’d suffered a mild emotional breakdown a few years ago, and he’s currently in therapy. Based on Hank’s account, Chase blames himself for the financial meltdown and for trusting that Simon would stop the crisis from spiraling out of control. His wife reported that when he reads the headlines about the economy, he suffers from recurring guilt pangs. Chase has had a tough row to hoe but, apparently, he’s on the upswing.”
“Any chance he’d had contact with Simon?”
“Absolutely not! There’s no evidence that he’s violated his immunity agreement,” Paolo snapped, seemingly overprotective of his fraternal brother. “After Simon disappeared, the Securities and Exchange Commission was suddenly all over Chase, accusing him of accounting errors. He weathered that storm, but he always believed the high pressure investigation could be attributed to Simon’s revenge for the part he played in divulging the plot during the interrogation,” he elaborated.
“I must admit, I always had a weak spot for Chase. He seemed like a lost soul, and it was evident Simon could manipulate him easily,” Noble theorized.
“That’s probably why Simon chose him for our study group at Harvard,” Paolo suggested. Why he chose me is my nagging question.
“Speaking of Harvard, I’ve always been curious as to how all of you ended up there at the same time?”
Paolo keenly took notice that the conversation was turning into an inquiry.
“I’m sure you’ll recall that, during the interrogation, we all learned that Simon had established a relationship with Chase, long before we attended Harvard.”
“I remember. Let’s move on. What about Seymour?”
“Well, it’s public knowledge that Seymour became persona non grata for a time, especially in Washington D.C. Mysterious leaks about his negative campaign ads and the fabrication of the campaign sound bites for Baari sealed his fate in and around the Capitol. He went back to L.A., dabbled with some political documentaries, and then finally was welcomed back into the inner circle when his film The Framework was nominated by the Academy for best picture.” Paolo hesitated. “As in the case of Chase, Seymour was convinced Simon was behind his demise, and also responsible for the leaks.”
“What about attending Harvard?” Noble seemed to be a bit overeager.
Paolo heaved a shallow breath, signaling his annoyance. “I recall him telling me, once, that one of his father’s friends had suggested Harvard because of their excellent program in film and visual studies.” Paolo’s demeanor shifted, and he became more pleasant. “Seymour liked to mimic his father and, when he did, it was hilarious. I remember him quoting his father exactly, ‘My pal Hal says, if it’s good enough for him, it should be good enough for you. You’re going to Harvard.’ His facial expressions were priceless.”
“What did you say the guy’s name was?”
“What, the father’s friend? Hal—I think Hal Simmons, something like that. Why?”
“It’s not important,” Noble scoffed, feigning a lack of interest but thinking it’s vitally important. Paolo had no way of knowing that was one of Simon’s aliases. He relaxed slightly into his chair, displaying his presumed indifference. “I never asked you for any details, but how did you end up at Harvard?”
Paolo, feeling marginally more comfortable, clarified, “That’s simple. One summer, I interned in my uncle’s law firm in Florence. It was an easy gig. I spent three months editing briefs by day and entertaining the ladies by night.”
“Okay, Romeo, but what about Harvard?’ Noble prompted, attempting to redirect Paolo, who had a tendency toward braggadocio.
“My aunt was a professor of art and believed strongly in the importance of a good education. She and my uncle agreed to subsidize my tuition if I’d apply to Harvard. I was considering graduate school at the time, but Harvard was nowhere in my budget—until they made the offer, of course. Naturally, I accepted.” Paolo frowned. “What difference does this make?”
“May I ask the name of your aunt?”
“Obviously, you’ve been working too hard and you need a vacation, fratello,” Paolo advised. Then, he watched the edgy expression slowly cloak Noble’s face and responded, “Simona Ducale. What does this have to do with La Fratellanza or Simon?” Seconds after Paolo mouthed the words, he had answered his own question, much to his own shock. “You think Simon somehow manipulated all of us to converge at Harvard long before he molded us together in the study group?” Giving Noble no time to answer, he elaborated, “Are you suggesting Simon became acquainted with my aunt when he was in Florence during the early nineties? It never occurred to me to link my family and Simon in any way. It’s so farfetched.”
Noble didn’t respond immediately. He easily recalled that Professoressa Ducale was instrumental in helping Simon escape years later in Florence with one hundred thousand euros, foiling Hamilton’s sting operation. Focused once again on the conversation, he admonished Paolo. “You’ve posed way too many questions. For now, fratello, I’m the one looking for answers. What about Hank?”
Paolo settled down after his outburst. For the moment, he acquiesced. “One night, I had drinks with Hank when he finally came clean about meeting Simon a few years before he had entered graduate school. The details were sketchy, but it had something to do with an organizing drive that was giving Hank problems. Simon intervened and, within weeks, the situation sorted itself out. Simon and Hank became fast friends.”
“Now, do you have the answers to your own questions?” Noble inquired jocularly.
Paolo, with a deadpan expression, admitted, “After Simon disappeared, Seymour voiced to the rest of us that he always suspected it wasn’t a coincidence we all landed together at Harvard.” He paused, and then looked directly at Noble. “Seymour was also convinced you were the linchpin—the one designated to play a major role in Simon’s plot.”
Noble was shaken by the thought that Seymour had deciphered one key element of Simon’s insidious plan. The entire plot had hinged on his admittance to Harvard. In fact, he recalled his own experience entering the university at the eleventh hour. His financial resources were limited, and he had applied for a scholarship but had not received a timely response. Amazingly, the day before the Harvard acceptance deadline, he was awarded a partial scholarship, accompanied by a letter of apology attributing the delay to a computer error.
“Simon,” he muttered under his breath.
“What?” Paolo asked, not sure he had heard him correctly.
In the blink of an eye, Noble changed the direction of the questioning. “I want to talk about the time when all of you, except Chase, worked in the White House, particularly during the time after Simon disappeared.”
“Noble, please tell me what this is about,” Paolo appealed.
“Bear with me. Who directed Baari’s policies in the early days of his administration?”
“I guess the impetus for some of his policies started back at Harvard when we first began our intellectual game.” Paolo winced. “During our study group, Simon had suggested we predetermine various policies—social, economic, foreign, energy, etcetera, that might become useful. Especially, as course material for the person we ultimately deemed the Chosen One.” Paolo quickly added, “Of course, at the time, it was only a game, an intellectual challenge. Little did we know that years later in Chicago we would actually utilize the course materials.”
Paolo gauged Noble’s demeanor carefully before he continued. “As part of my assignment, Simon encouraged me to write speeches to sell each of those policies for the Chosen One’s presidential campaign. Of course, we all now know they were meant for Baari,” he submitted with embarrassment. “As part of the game, he even had me project out to 2008, so the speeches would be timely and could be easily adjusted to be in tune with current events.” He stopped and looked across the room, diverting eye contact with Noble, then confessed, “Naturally, after the election, we expected Baari to appoint Han
k as his chief of staff. Hank was expected to bring the rest of us into the fold.”
Noble showed little emotion and moved the questioning forward. “Earlier, you mentioned energy as one of the policies you tackled.”
“Yes, someone pointed out during one of our sessions—I think it might have been Hank—that the Middle East would always be in turmoil and we would be forced to sleep with the devil as long as we were energy-dependent.” Paolo paused, trying to recollect the exact conversation. “Oh, yes, it was Simon who contended, ‘the more turmoil the better.’”
“What did he mean by that?”
“Simon lectured us about how our country was replete with resources, but that we couldn’t drill to full capacity because the government was beholden to the environmentalists. The same environmentalists were a voting bloc that was key to electing the Chosen One.”
“So how did Simon reconcile the issue?”
“He suggested we stir things up in the Middle East through a foreign policy strategy, ultimately forcing the tyrant leadership in various countries to step down. Simon predicted that it would precipitate their replacement by other tyrants who would step into the breach, creating more turmoil, with the goal of creating a dire energy shortage for our country. The president would then be forced to approve drilling for oil domestically. Oh mio dio.” Paolo paused as his expression contorted with understandable concern. “The fog has lifted. It’s all coming to me now. The environmentalists would’ve had to capitulate under the circumstances.” He spoke as if entranced.
Noble was troubled. “Are you all right?”
Paolo, rapidly regaining his composure, fired off, “Noble, there were so many balls in the air. In those first few years of Baari’s presidency, we were trying to manage the financial crisis, containing his spending frenzy, and his furtive attempts to control as much of the private sector as possible. It was mayhem in the White House. Baari’s inexperience was coming to light. We did all we could do to try to keep him under control.”
Then, in a breathless manner, Paolo owned up to the fact that Baari’s energy and foreign policies seemed eerily in parallel. In his own defense, he avowed, “Noble, I had to focus on the day-to-day issues and may have missed the bigger picture. Baari is an egocentric who didn’t confide in us totally. I honestly didn’t recognize that aspects of our Harvard game were playing out before our very eyes. As reckless as it may seem, we focused obsessively on electing Baari. That was the game—not what would happen after he was elected president.”
Noble knew Paolo was sincere, even though he found it difficult to believe he was obtusely unaware of some of the broader issues. Certainly, he was in the midst of key events. At a minimum, he was the kingpin of communications for the White House. Noble remembered many of Paolo’s clever speeches as he defended the actions of the Oval Office against critics, both public and private.
Changing the course of the conversation once again, Noble insisted, “Why the drastic increase in federal land claims during Baari’s first four years?”
“Odd you would bring that up. I questioned the same thing,” Paolo admitted.
“Questioned whom?”
“I asked Hank, repeatedly, why such an escalation was taking place. He ascribed it to the acquisition of energy resources. Quoting him directly, he would arrogantly say, that is where the energy resources are located. He stated, on more than one occasion, that the goal of the administration was to control the U.S. energy supply, eventually insuring energy independence from rogue nations.”
“Rather altruistic, I would say”
“In hindsight, rather risky, I would say.”
“Why do you say risky?”
“The government’s claim on public lands was killing jobs and impeding private enterprise. The same private enterprises that could have helped solve the energy crisis.”
“I don’t understand. Give me an example.”
“Noble, there are many examples, but one in particular has to do with the state of Utah.”
Paolo thought he detected what might have been a slight reaction from Noble at the mention of Utah but chose to let it go unchallenged. He continued, “Over the past several years, the federal government has succeeded in either owning or managing most of the land in that state. It has become impossible for many of the private companies with legitimate mining claims to build roads or other means of passage on the federally claimed land, necessary to access their drill sites. Utah, along with land in Colorado, Montana, and Wyoming have some of the richest energy resources, all lying in wait below ground. And, for some unknown reason, there was an overreaction on the federal government’s part to protect specific land in Utah from being excavated or reshaped in any way.”
“I’m confused. Who directed those policy decisions? Was Baari really that astute?”
“He had a host of advisors in the form of business roundtables, self-appointed Tsars and a select group of congresspersons, all invited to his doorstep. The exercise was only a sham. It was the old rope-a-dope Ali used when he was heavyweight champ. After they had played their public relations role, he ignored them and, ultimately, adopted Hank’s strategy.”
“Hank?” Noble barked.
“Speaking from personal experience, Hank constantly tried to reshape my speeches and control the communications leaving my office on this issue,” Paolo attested, as he shook his head in despair.
Noble sat back into his chair, staring at his clasped hands.
Paolo remained silent as Noble pondered.
Then, in a flash, Noble stood up and walked toward his desk as he went on the attack. “Other than his skill in directing social policy, Hank is not that versatile! He had to have been taking his direction from Simon the entire time he was ostensibly working for Baari. That son-of-a-bitch has been lying to me all along, just as I suspected.”
Paolo was astounded. “Noble, your dialogue has become perceptively more colorful the more time you occupy this office,” he snickered.
“It’s this goddamn case—it’s Simon,” Noble remarked in a raised voice. As he turned around to face Paolo, he realized his slip of the tongue.
“Simon!” Paolo exclaimed. “You’re tracking down Simon. That’s your case?”
Noble glared at Paolo.
“I know, can’t discuss.” Paolo backed off, stood up, and walked toward Noble.
“You are to forget we had this conversation. And, I’m sorry, but you’ll have to be escorted out of the building. Hold on while I call the guard.”
“I miss the days when I could roam at leisure,” Paolo moaned.
“Mr. Salvatore is ready to leave.”
A few seconds later there was a knock. Noble gave Paolo a warm embrace and, in silence, they headed together toward the door.
Noble thanked Paolo for giving up his Saturday morning. “We’ll get together soon,” he proposed with a pat on the back.
Paolo looked at Noble with some apprehension and said, “Ciao, fratello.” Then he turned and departed with the Secret Service guard.
24
A FLASH FROM THE PAST
After Paolo’s departure, the picture of the flash drive insidiously crept back into Noble’s mind. He could still picture Max reaching for the device just before the explosion. He could still picture the initials LF. Noble had a similar flash drive with the same engraved initials, the one he had received from Paolo on that cold day in Franklin Park. A day he recalled vividly. It was the day Paolo broke down and divulged the plot, the role the members of La Fratellanza had played, and the disappearance of Simon. The other members of La Fratellanza had also turned over their identical flash drives during the interrogation that followed Paolo’s exposure. Noble was certain the USB device Max picked up was Simon’s flash drive. On the other hand, he was suspicious as to what degree he could trust the data stored on the drive, knowing Simon’s devious mind. Noble harbored doubts as to whether it would provide the missing clues to the ultimate plot.
As he continued to recollect
the details of that painful conversation in the park with Paolo, he heard his smartphone vibrate, bringing him back to the present. He grabbed his phone and blurted out, “Max, what’s happening?”
“You’ll never believe it!”
“I’ll believe anything these days. Shoot.”
“I spoke with Colonel Evan about Desert Mountain.”
“What did he say?”
“He appeared curious as to how I knew, but then he acknowledged the U.S. military actually has a storage facility inside the mountain. Imagine him being Ali Baba saying open sesame when he finally opens his sealed cave for us. It’s wild. Anyway, they use the facility to house emergency vehicles and construction equipment, having it readily available when conducting training and testing exercises outside the Dugway Proving Ground.”
“Max, slow down!”
“Slow down! I’m just warming up. Noble, we found another opening!” She went on with consternation. “We entered the mountain from the north face, unbelievably only a mile from where Agent Darrow’s body was found. We discovered another opening leading out of the mountain heading south. The Colonel swears it was not installed by the military, and he was unaware of its existence.”
“What’s on the other side?”
“It opens to a tunnel that looks exactly like the one that led us to the indoctrination center. The only difference is it’s three times wider.”
“That would explain how they were able to provision the facility.”
“Exactly, and right now the Colonel has a couple of troops staking out the area. They also found two air ducts with escape hatches protruding out of the ground, just as you described. Each one was about thirty-eight inches in diameter. One was located off the Weis Highway, almost exactly where Darrow’s body was recovered.” Max paused, and then delved more slowly. “Why would Simon or the killer be so careless as to discard the body near two potential clues?”
“Good question, for which I don’t have an answer. Where was the second escape hatch found?” Noble inquired.
Noble's Quest Page 18
