Concerned about the renegade operation involving Adam Stern, Burke wondered? He wanted badly to believe that Nate had nothing to do with it, not even any knowledge of it. But he would reserve judgement until he could nail down a few more facts.
After his chat with Nate Highsmith, Burke returned to his office and began reading a newspaper article about preparations for the Commonwealth of Independent States' summit meeting on July fifth. His reading was interrupted by a call from Jerry Chan, the Chinese-American manager of Worldwide's Seoul office. He and Jerry had gone over together two years earlier to open the Korean office and launch Operation Hangover, the investigation into the Poksu conspiracy. Jerry reported to Burke on the clandestine side of the business, but besides that, they had become close friends. Burke and Lori had attended Jerry's wedding in Seoul a few months after the Poksu matter had been laid to rest.
"Say," Jerry said in a concerned voice, "I got word by the grapevine that little Liz and Cam were pretty sick. What's the story?"
The time difference made communications difficult between Seoul and Washington. When it was morning over there, it was night in Washington. Now Jerry was calling from home in the evening in order to get Burke at the office this morning.
Burke decided to play it straight with his friend. "Don't tell Nate, but I only dreamed that up to justify diverting the jet to Mexico. I didn't want to explain my real reason for coming back in such a hurry."
"Should I ask the real reason?"
"If I were you, I wouldn't."
"Okay. You're the boss. But the kids are really fine?"
"As lively as ever. If not moreso."
"Ji-young will be happy to hear that. She's worried me all day about calling to find out. Also, she has a little news of her own."
Ji-young had been Jerry's first Korean secretary and was now his wife. "What's the news?" Burke asked.
"She's pregnant. The doctor says it should be here around the first of March."
"Congratulations! Have you told Nate?"
"No, but I'll get you to transfer me. I wanted to tell you and Lori first. Is she okay?"
"Yeah, fine. Now that she's survived that tenth anniversary party for Clipper Cruise and Travel. Anything else you need to talk to me about, Jerry? Anything on the financial side?"
"Fortunately, I've got no problems at all at the moment. Thing's could hardly be going better. It's scary. Anyway, good to talk to you, and I'm glad the kids are fine. Go ahead and switch me to the Chief."
Evelyn Tilson arrived while he was on the phone. As soon as he hung up, she came in to relate the past evening's excitement at her normally sedate condo development. A Treasury Department official who had been implicated in a banking scandal had shot himself on the deck behind his unit.
"His poor wife was a wreck. I had talked with her a few times. She said the FBI had been following them everywhere and tapping their phone. It's a real mess."
That prompted Burke to pursue his own phone tap problem. He paid a visit to Sam Peterson, the Director of Security. He explained the situation with the bug, which Peterson was already aware of from the report by the "exterminators." The security man promised to get someone checking into the bogus waiter right away and would let him know as soon as he turned up anything significant.
Burke was on his way back to his office when he realized that he had forgotten his plan to tell Nate that the twins were out of danger. By the time he got Toni Carlucci on the phone, Highsmith had already left for the airport.
New York City
54
The taxi ride into Manhattan served as a reminder of the sheer magnitude of this unique phenomenon known as New York City. Nate had reveled in the rough and tumble of the Big Apple's business scene when he had lived here, but now, with considerably more gray hair on his head, he was happy with the more genteel climate of Washington. Not that the competition wasn't just as rough in the capital. The politics was certainly more turbulent, but there was generally an atmosphere of courtliness or propriety that New York sometimes lacked. It was reflected in the way congressional debaters referred to "the gentleman from" wherever, or inquired with practiced politeness, "would the lady yield the floor?"
He had to acknowledge that New York was the kingpin when it came to finance, as evidenced by the massive structure with walls of marble and adornments of gleaming brass that housed the headquarters of Bernard Whitehurst's banking empire. A high-speed elevator whisked him up to the executive suite that commanded a panoramic view of the sprawling megalopolis. A snappily-dressed, glad-handing young assistant greeted him and ushered him into the chairman's office, a large, richly-paneled room with thick brown carpeting. An expansive wall of glass made artificial lighting totally unnecessary on a clear day.
"Nathaniel, nice to see you again," Whitehurst cooed, grasping his hand in a firm grip. He turned to the assistant. "See that no one disturbs us."
Accompanied by a bit of small talk about family and mutual friends, Whitehurst escorted Nate over to an informal grouping of sofas and chairs. Appropriate for a man with homes in Newport, Southampton and Nice, the art on the walls came from a collection of Renaissance masters.
"Could I get you something to drink?" he asked, ever the congenial host.
"No thanks," Nate replied. "I saw Laurence Coyne in Washington yesterday. He cleared up a few things for me about the meeting coming up in Colorado. My wife is really looking forward to it."
"I'm sure she'll enjoy it. We couldn't have found a more beautiful setting. It's just a few days off, of course, but I had a couple of things to discuss with you that I did not think should wait until then. Incidentally, how have you evaluated your trip to Switzerland for the Council of Lyon? Did you find it beneficial?"
"It certainly gave me a new slant on the prospects for change in the Commonwealth of Independent States. I 'm sure the President would not agree with the stand we took at Lucerne."
Whitehurst leaned back in the plushly-upholstered chair and smiled. "You're thinking of what he told Chairman Latishev of Belarus, that America would come to his aid if he were attacked. In the first place, I don't see anyone attacking Belarus. Of course, there's always the possibility of a popular uprising. The Commonwealth Coordinating Committees have been seeking a more unified status for the old republics. At any rate, I'm sure the President was bluffing. He has no business involving American forces in internal disputes in that part of the world."
Nate could not agree with him more, but he wasn't so sure the situation would resolve itself into a simple "internal dispute." The reports coming through the Berlin office told of certain military commanders around the CIS conducting training exercises designed to have their troops ready to move on a moment's notice. When Whitehurst spoke again, Nate realized the concern he felt about those reports must have been reflected in the expression on his face.
"You seem to have some hesitation. Have your people been telling you something different?"
"My people?"
"I realize this may come as something of a surprise, Nathaniel, but I'm well aware of the nature of your business."
"Of course. It's public relations."
Whitehurst gave a low chuckle. "Come now, I'm prepared to lay my cards on the table. I'd appreciate it if you would do the same. I'm speaking of your Amber Group operations. I can't say who told me, but you can be sure it was someone at the top."
It had to be, thought Nate. Only those at the top were supposed to know. "How long have you known about us?"
"Actually, since not long after you started the business. I have told no one else, of course. But a man in my position must keep abreast of developments in many fields. Intelligence is one of the most vital. You are aware that Kingsley Marshall is a member of the Roundtable, as is the Secretary of State, the President's National Security Adviser and the Director of the Federal Bureau of Investigation."
Nate nodded. "I've seen their names on the roster. But I never thought..."
When he paused, Whitehurst picked
up the thread. "That I would be privy to their counsel? I apologize for having neglected you in the past. It was an unfortunate oversight. I suppose I should have taken more notice after the job you did in that Poksu business. It was—"
"You knew about Poksu?" Outside himself, Burke Hill and Worldwide's Seoul office manager, only a handful of the President's top advisers were aware of the full details of that operation. Burke Hill had uncovered the South Korean president's plot to develop a nuclear capability and blackmail Japan. Burke had devised a plan to face down the Korean president, who reluctantly called off the plot. To express appreciation for their defusing a potential disaster, the President had invited the Highsmiths and Hills to an unpublicized private dinner at the White House.
"It was fortunate that you handled that one well, or we could have faced a terribly tragic situation over there," Whitehurst said. "For the past several months, some of my close colleagues and I have been keeping our eyes on you. We have been impressed."
"Well, I'm flattered. You're speaking of Roundtable colleagues?"
"I am. I'd better explain something about our organization of which not everyone is aware. We have what I would call a multi-tiered membership. First is the membership at large, a very loyal and supportive group, which takes in the majority of our roster. They subscribe to our general aims of improving the climate for closer cooperation between the nations of the world. The second tier includes men like yourself, people with a much larger stake in the global community, mostly heads of large firms in such fields as banking, communications, multinational industries. Also those who are leaders in government, key foundations, the top universities. These members help us maintain our influence in the most vital areas across the country. They can shape public opinion and give us the opportunity to exercise control over political and financial organizations and institutions. One of their most important roles is to deflect criticism of the Roundtable, to make fools of those reckless critics who attempt to paint us as some monstrous conspiracy."
Bernard Whitehurst crossed one leg over the other and spread his hands out in a gesture of open admission. "All right, perhaps it would be possible to make a case for conspiracy. But if so, it's clearly a conspiracy to make the world a more orderly place for the conduct of business, a place where people can go about their lives secure in the knowledge that capable hands are in control."
"There must be a third tier," Nate said, leaning an elbow on one arm of the chair and propping his chin on his fist.
"There is. The leadership of the Roundtable is vested in the Board of Directors. It is a self-perpetuating body of twenty members. It has full authority to set policy and take whatever actions it deems necessary to further the organization's goals. We currently have a vacancy on the board. It was my colleagues on the board I referred to earlier as being impressed by you. One member was assigned to observe you during the Lucerne meeting. He gave a most favorable report."
Nate smiled. "Christian Healy?"
"Yes."
"I remember he engaged me in some lengthy, probing conversations."
"He reported that you appeared to be in full agreement with our vision, a world economy with financial control in private hands. Above petty politics. To achieve this worthy goal, we must expand our influence over nations around the globe. This can be accomplished most easily with governments that exercise full power and authority over their people, meaning primarily socialist governments."
"Doesn't that go a bit against the grain? Socialism is a share the wealth philosophy."
"Not as far as we are concerned, Nathaniel. If the leadership is beholden to you, it's a consolidate and control the wealth program." He uncrossed his legs and leaned forward toward Nate, cool gray eyes staring intently. "Were we correct in our assessment that you are the man for our board vacancy?"
A position on the Roundtable board! Highsmith took a deep breath and replied, "I think you've filled the slot, Bernard." His smile was one of immense satisfaction. It would be the crowning achievement to his distinguished career in business and government.
"Excellent. I have a bottle of fine Scotch I'll break open if you will join me in a little toast to our future relationship."
"I would be honored."
Whitehurst went to the bar and poured two drinks, then brought the glasses back to where Nate was sitting. After touching glasses, they began to sip at their drinks and the FAR chairman looked across with a changed, now regretful expression on his face.
"I believe I said we had two things to talk about. The second is a most troubling one. It concerns one of your key employees."
Nate frowned. "Who?"
"Burke Hill."
"Burke is one of my oldest and most faithful people. He's the one who did most of the work on that Poksu conspiracy."
"I know. That is what makes it so troubling."
"Does it concern my recommendation of him for membership?"
Whitehurst nodded, then answered with another question. "Have you met Adam Stern?"
"We were introduced two years ago, I believe. I really haven't had any occasion to be associated with him."
"Well, Adam is somewhat in the same business as you. He's our intelligence arm. Laurence Coyne was familiar with Hill's role in that Jabberwock business, where he uncovered the assassination plot against the American and Soviet presidents. I understand he displayed a penchant for working outside the system. Anyway, Laurence suggested that Adam be particularly thorough in his investigation of Hill."
"Has he turned up some problem?" A worried frown accompanied the question.
"Hill lied to you a couple of nights ago when he called about using the company jet. His children were not actually ill. He made that up in a phone conversation with his wife."
Nate could not hide the shock he felt. "Why the devil would he do that?"
"Evidently he was in a hurry to get back from Mexico and did not want you to know why. It may have had something to do with what he told his wife the next morning. He said he had accidentally run into something in Mexico that was 'mighty shady,' as he put it. He said the Roundtable appeared to be right in the thick of it."
Nate was appalled at all of this, though he had no idea what it was about. "What do you suppose he meant?"
"Adam Stern was in Mexico a week ago to meet with a former Soviet KGB officer. He's involved in an operation to which we had given tacit approval. It is crucial to a movement that has surfaced in the CIS, aimed at what we were talking about earlier, the discussion at the Council of Lyon. The Trustees of the Council have supported the movement financially."
"And you think that's what he stumbled into?"
"Logic would indicate it, though we can't say for sure. If he did, he could cause trouble that would have grave consequences for our friends in the CIS."
"Would you like me to see what I can find out?"
"Yes. If Hill knows what's going on, it will be necessary to neutralize him."
That had an ominous sound to it. Nate realized it was imperative that he determine what Burke knew, perhaps reason with him about the necessity of keeping it confidential. Then a question suddenly occurred to him that he had overlooked earlier in the shock of Whitehurst's revelation.
"How did Stern get this information?"
The Chairman smiled. "By tapping Hill's telephone. He has some private investigators who do that sort of thing for him."
The wiretap the "exterminators" had found, Nate realized. And Burke was probably already in the process of launching an investigation to track down the culprit.
Washington , D.C.
55
When it became clear that Adam Stern was the key to his dilemma, Burke Hill decided to pursue the "enforcer" from the few bits of information available. Colonel Rodman was convinced that Stern bore responsibility for the death of Lt. Col. Juan Bolivar. A starting point would be to determine if the FAR henchman could be placed in Washington at the time of the officer's "suicide."
Saddled with all of his normal
responsibilities, Burke knew it would take him much too long to track down the information he needed. There was a possible solution, though it would have to be handled carefully. Worldwide had an extensive Research Department that carried out legitimate public relations research as well as more arcane assignments for the Amber Group. He had worked closely with them on many projects. The only drawback was that an official written request for information on Adam Stern would run the risk of getting back to Nate Highsmith. Burke decided to bypass the formalities.
One particularly talented fact-finder had a mind like the random access memory of a computer. Ask her a question and she could toss out all kinds of obscure information with ease. If the needed item wasn't in her memory banks, she had a network of sources that could usually access it with a minimum of delay. Brittany Pickerel was a small, dark-haired girl who had worked for the National Security Agency prior to joining Worldwide. She was also one of the original group that had staffed the Seoul office, where Burke had learned a healthy respect for her abilities. Just turned thirty, she had recently returned to Washington, where she continued to display the intensity of a chess master when pursuing a project. Nothing seemed to daunt her quest for the facts.
"I haven't had the opportunity to work with you in a long time," Brittany said when she was seated across the desk from him. "How are your wife and the twins? What are they now, about two?"
"I'd call it the precocious two's. As for Lori, she's doing fine. Oh, I have some news for you, from Korea."
"Did you hear from Jerry?"
"He called this morning. Ji-young is pregnant."
"Marvelous! Those are two of the nicest people I've ever run into."
Burke leaned forward on his desk, signaling the preliminaries were over. He wasn't very big on small talk. "I've got something I need help with, Brittany," he said, appearing to put it on a personal as well as a professional level. "I need some information pretty quickly, and I need the search kept as quiet as possible."
Overture to Disaster (Post Cold War Political Thriller Trilogy Book 3) Page 34
