The Inca Prophecy

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The Inca Prophecy Page 17

by Adrian D'hagé


  ‘So once von Heißen paid a hefty fee to the Vatican’s go-between and was disguised as a Catholic priest, I don’t think he’d have had any difficulty at all moving his gold. The average soldier at a border checkpoint is not going to question a priest, let alone open a crate which has Vatican seals and black-bag status.’

  ‘And what do you want from us?’ Wiley asked.

  ‘As you may be aware, von Heißen was responsible for the murder of Weizman’s grandparents at Mauthausen. Weizman’s father escaped the camp in the back of a laundry van. This, combined with Weizman and O’Connor’s arrival in Guatemala at the same time as von Heißen’s disappearance, is surely more than a coincidence. The link between O’Connor, Weizman and von Heißen might work to our mutual benefit,’ Lerner said, although the Mossad chief had no intention of giving up any information he had on O’Connor or Weizman. Lerner was aware of the very high regard his field agents had for the ex-CIA operative. ‘We’re also interested in von Heißen’s diaries. We think O’Connor may know something about their current whereabouts.’

  Wiley said nothing. He knew Mossad and the Israeli Nazi hunters were not the only ones desperate to get hold of the diaries. Cardinal Felici had an even more compelling reason.

  ‘If von Heißen had the diaries in the San Pedro presbytery, why didn’t your team seize them when they were there?’ Wiley asked, never missing an opportunity to rub failure in the wounds of his competitors.

  ‘Mossad is not perfect, Howard, any more than the CIA. The team were so close to Wiley they kept on his trail without searching the presbytery. An unfortunate oversight,’ said Lerner, smiling deprecatingly. ‘We’re aware – in fact, the whole world is aware – that O’Connor and Weizman are still on the run, and probably in Peru. We’d like to be kept in the loop. Particularly if your search for them provides any leads on von Heißen, and the whereabouts of his diaries.’

  Chapter 28

  The assassin took a different route to the safe house this time and approached North 27th Street from the west. He parked just past the Cornerstone Wesleyan Church and settled down to wait. Inside the house, Agent Ellen Rodriguez was ensconced with her lawyer, the avuncular Dustin Coburn, one of Washington’s best-known attorneys.

  ‘The Senate Select Committee on Intelligence has fifteen members, eight Democrats and seven Republicans. I’ve provided a list for you in your background papers,’ advised Coburn. ‘The chair is the Democrat senator from Connecticut, Mary Wheeler. She’s an environmental lawyer, as sharp as a tack, and nothing gets past her. But she’s fair, and provided you give straightforward answers, you’ve nothing to fear from her. Senator Austin Crosier, the minority chair from Massachusetts, is another matter. He’ll back Wiley to the hilt and he’ll try to intimidate you, and if that doesn’t work, he’ll try to discredit you. Nervous?’

  ‘A little. But I keep reminding myself that if Wiley is allowed to continue at the CIA, he poses a threat not only to the United States, but to the wider world.’

  ‘It’s a big call to describe Wiley as a threat. You’re going to need evidence.’

  ‘I am the evidence, Dustin. When I was posted to the Latin American desk at Langley, I finished up on Task Force Maya, a small top-secret operations centre that Wiley set up to track down O’Connor and Weizman, since renamed Task Force Inca. Once it became clear that O’Connor had not assassinated Weizman, and had in fact teamed up with her, Wiley was furious. Not long after, a Sicilian hit man, Antonio Sodano, was found strangled in a bin in Vienna. I couldn’t understand what that had to do with O’Connor, but Wiley became even more pissed.’

  ‘You think Sodano was contracted to eliminate O’Connor and Weizman.’

  ‘And he failed. Shortly after that, we tracked O’Connor and Weizman to a train headed for Germany. I was there, Dustin – I was in the room when Wiley deployed an asset onto the train and ordered their assassination. He categorised both O’Connor and Weizman as a clear and present danger.’

  Dustin Coburn shook his head. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen an administration employ the term to get around a meddlesome Congress.

  ‘The German police found the body of Wiley’s asset in a toilet on the train when it reached Frankfurt. Wiley deployed another asset and had a go at O’Connor and Weizman after they left Mauthausen concentration camp, but the Austrian police found that asset in a burnt-out car in the bottom of a ravine in the Alps.’

  ‘O’Connor must be quite a guy.’

  ‘One of our best, or was.’ Ellen’s voice held a wistful note. ‘But it didn’t end there. Wiley had two more attempts. One on a cargo ship, and another when O’Connor and Weizman were diving for a jade figurine in Lake Atitlán, in Guatemala. Both attempts failed. The figurine led O’Connor and Weizman to the Temple of the Lost World in the Guatemalan jungles. By that time I’d been banished to Guatemala City as chief of station, and Wiley sent me into the jungle to track O’Connor, before flying in himself.’

  ‘The DDO left Langley and went to Guatemala?’ Coburn had been around Washington long enough to know the Agency’s chief spymaster never risked himself in the field.

  ‘Odd, isn’t it? But by then I think Wiley had given up on any of his assets getting the better of O’Connor, and he was determined to take charge.’

  ‘Why was he so intent on having O’Connor eliminated?’

  ‘O’Connor knew too much, and when he decided to protect Weizman, Wiley needed them both out of the way.’

  ‘And you think he would have killed them?’

  ‘I’m certain of it. When O’Connor and Weizman finally realised where the Maya Codex was, Wiley followed them into the tomb in the jungle. And so did I. I can still picture it vividly. By the time I arrived, he was holding O’Connor and Weizman at gunpoint, demanding to know what was in a jade urn. When they wouldn’t answer, Wiley went to pick up the urn himself, and released a pressure plate that activated a brace of spears tipped with snake venom. Wiley ordered me to keep O’Connor and Weizman covered, and when I refused, he said something that I’m not sure I should reveal tomorrow.’

  ‘Which was?’

  ‘Apart from threatening me with San Quentin, he said the operation to eliminate O’Connor and Weizman had the approval of the vice president of the United States.’

  Coburn let out a low whistle. ‘Let me think about that one. That might be better left to a full-blown Congressional inquiry, although it’s rare for presidents to order inquiries into previous administrations. But one thing still puzzles me about all of this, and it’s something Senator Wheeler might probe you on tomorrow. I can see why Wiley fears O’Connor, but I still can’t see why he’s been so focused on Weizman. Our operations in Guatemala were sickening, but Weizman’s not the only one to point the finger at the CIA … There has to be more to it than that.’

  ‘There is, and when it becomes public, Wiley will not only face a jail term, but will drag down those who have backed him, including Senator Crosier. Weizman’s background is the key. Her grandparents were murdered in Mauthausen concentration camp, and she was brought up on the shores of Lake Atitlán in Guatemala by her father, who escaped from Mauthausen as a boy. Before she and O’Connor fled Guatemala, she told me the story of her father’s murder.’

  ‘Her father gave a controversial sermon, didn’t he? On the second anniversary of the murder of Archbishop Romero?’

  ‘Yes, and the official story was that the service was stormed by Guatemala’s death squads because Ariel Weizman was critical of the government. In reality his sermon made an explosive connection between the United States and the leader of the death squad which killed Romero – one Major Roberto D’Aubuisson, a vicious thug who used to throw babies into the air and use them for target practice. Ariel Weizman revealed that D’Aubuisson was an honoured guest in Washington and had received an award from Conservative lobbyists for his supposed efforts for freedom against the Communist insurgency.’

  ‘It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve entertained ruthless dicta
tors and hoodlums in Washington,’ the distinguished counsel said sadly.

  ‘True. But there’s more. When the Guatemalan death squads we helped train stormed the church, they massacred hundreds of parishioners. Aleta Weizman was barely ten when she not only lost her father, but her mother and younger brothers. She survived by crawling under the pews and escaping through a side door where she observed the soldiers afterwards in secret. One man, a civilian, stood out. Aleta told me she would never forget him … a very short man with a pale, freckly face and spiky red hair.’

  Coburn took a deep breath. ‘Wiley?’

  ‘Got it in one. In 1982, the year of the massacre at San Pedro, Howard Wiley was chief of station in Guatemala City, which is why he will do anything to ensure Weizman is eliminated. She couldn’t have a better protector than O’Connor, but she won’t be safe until Wiley’s brought to account.’

  ‘And neither will you. I gather you’ve refused the offer to have a US Marshal stay here tonight?’

  ‘No offence, Dustin, but I value my own space. I’ll be fine. The marshal told me that the locations of its safe houses is a better-kept secret than the UFO landing at Roswell.’

  ‘Nevertheless, I’d be more comfortable if you agreed to someone staying with you. Your testimony tomorrow is going to rock this town to its foundations.’ In all his years in Washington, Coburn had never had a case as explosive as this.

  ‘It’s not only Washington, Dustin. Ever since the Second World War, the CIA has maintained a very close connection with the Vatican’s counter-espionage and intelligence services. Before Aleta Weizman and O’Connor fled Guatemala, Aleta told me the Vatican had been just as keen to get their hands on the Maya Codex as Wiley, and she suspected that Cardinal Felici, one of the curial cardinals in Rome, was part of the effort to silence her.’

  ‘Why would the Vatican be involved?’

  Ellen smiled ruefully. ‘Let me rephrase the question for you. Cardinal Felici is ambitious and ruthless, and like Wiley, he’ll eliminate anything that stands in his way. Did you know his father served as an envoy to Hitler? At the end of the war, Felici Senior helped a number of key Nazis to disguise themselves as priests and escape down the Vatican ratline. One of those Nazis was Standartenführer von Heißen.’

  Coburn let out another low whistle. ‘I remember reading about him … wasn’t he the commandant of Mauthausen?’ The attorney’s face lit up as the penny dropped. ‘The same camp that Weizman’s family was in?’

  Rodriguez nodded. ‘O’Connor and Weizman think that von Heißen, courtesy of the Vatican, finished up with a new life as a priest in San Pedro on the shores of Lake Atitlán, and that he escaped to Peru just before they got there.’

  ‘And Cardinal Felici’s worried that if the truth about Felici Senior ever comes out, he’s pretty well finished,’ Coburn mused.

  Rodriguez reached for the coffee plunger. ‘I used to be a Catholic, Dustin, and in my naïvety, I thought the Vatican was a church. But Hitler once described the Vatican as one of the most powerful governments he dealt with, and he was right. The Vatican has always been about power – and male power at that. Anything that threatens the Vatican’s view of the world is brutally suppressed, and I’m convinced that O’Connor and Weizman are on to something that will prove the Vatican – and every other religion – profoundly wrong.’

  ‘Do you know where they are? The committee will ask you.’

  Rodriguez shook her head. ‘I will truthfully answer that I don’t, although I agree with those who think they’re headed for Peru.’

  ‘Have you got anything to base that on?’

  ‘The Inca shamans were even more advanced than the Maya, and both O’Connor and Weizman are convinced that whatever is in the Inca prophecy will turn out to be even more devastating than the Maya Codex.’

  When Coburn left, Ellen checked all the windows were locked before double-checking the front and back doors. Perhaps she should have accepted the offer from the US Marshal for a modern-day Wyatt Earp to protect her, she thought. But Ellen had always been her own woman, and she put her worries to the back of her mind while she undressed and headed for the shower.

  Outside, the assassin was making his move.

  Chapter 29

  Wiley took the call on his internal line. ‘I’m on my way,’ he said, and he headed down to the operations centre.

  ‘We’ve traced the cell phone to a restaurant in Lima,’ Becker briefed him, referring Wiley to one of four large video screens on the ops-room wall that carried a map of the Miraflores district of Lima. The crosshairs in the centre of a blinking blue circle were centred halfway down Calle Manuel Bonilla, Paseo de la República and Larco. On the next screen, Becker had connected the secure link to the chief of station in Lima.

  ‘What’s the situation, Reyes?’ Wiley demanded.

  ‘The closest team is the one at the convent,’ Reyes responded. ‘They’re on their way to Calle Manuel Bonilla as we speak. The next closest team is out near the airport, and they’re moving as well. If we find Tutankhamun and Nefertiti have split up, do you have a priority?’

  ‘Jesus Christ, Reyes, I want them both!’ Wiley rasped. ‘But if you want them in order, get the woman first. She’s the one giving us the most grief in the media.’ Becker listened carefully.

  Wiley looked at his watch and turned to his deputy. ‘I’m due at this witch hunt on Capitol Hill tonight, Davis, but I want to know the moment you’ve got something.’

  O’Connor had selected the hotel carefully. Like any big city, Lima had its fair share of dubious neighbourhoods, but the Miraflores district wasn’t one of them. It was known for its restaurants, shops and stunning views overlooking the Pacific. O’Connor had chosen La Faraona, a comfortable but unobtrusive hotel in a side street off Paseo de la República. On their return from the monastery, he and Aleta had found a small restaurant nearby, crowded with locals. The special for the evening was ceviche, raw fish marinated in lime juice and seasoned with chilli peppers and cilantro. Aleta could see the wizened old Peruvian chef, sweat running down his lined cheeks, creating the dish in what seemed an impossibly cramped kitchen.

  ‘¡Salud!’ O’Connor raised a wine glass.

  ‘¡Salud!’ Aleta responded, rolling the deep crimson wine over her tastebuds. ‘This isn’t bad. What is it?’

  ‘Gran Tinto 2005, an interesting combination of malbec, tannat and petit verdot,’ said O’Connor. ‘Peru isn’t one of the wine capitals of the world, but that’s probably because they only have three major wineries. This one comes from Tacama.’

  ‘Who needs a sommelier when they’re dining with you?’

  ‘Well, this place is a bit rustic, but the locals seem to like it, and that’s always a good sign.’

  ‘What do you think will be the outcome in Washington?’ Aleta asked, suddenly serious. Earlier, they had watched the same CNN broadcast the President and his advisors had viewed in the White House.

  ‘We won’t be able to breathe easily until Wiley’s behind bars, and even then, we’ll have to be careful. You – we – have seriously pissed off a lot of people, especially in the Republican Party, and they’re good haters. And until Rodriguez testifies, Wiley will have a lot of people supporting him.’

  ‘Thank God for Ellen Rodriguez. Another one of your conquests?’ Aleta raised a teasing eyebrow.

  ‘Perhaps,’ O’Connor responded evasively, his trademark lopsided grin in evidence.

  ‘Has there ever been a woman you’ve worked alongside that you didn’t finish up in bed with?’

  ‘You weren’t too keen when we first met.’

  ‘Firstly, I wasn’t working with you, and secondly, that might have had something to do with the fact you’d been sent to Vienna to kill me!’ Aleta’s eyes clouded at the memory, but there was no malice in her voice. ‘I’m just so grateful that you saved me from Wiley’s assassins,’ she said. ‘If you hadn’t arrived, I wouldn’t even be here. I guess I had no idea how ruthless the Wileys of this world can be.’r />
  ‘The world is full of assholes, and Washington’s got more than its fair share.’

  ‘And I thought academic politics were tough. Will you go back to the CIA if you’re cleared?’ Aleta asked, her emotions mixed at the thought. She had come to trust O’Connor, but when it came to surrendering her heart, warning lights flashed.

  ‘That would depend on who was DDO. If Tom McNamara came out of retirement, I’d be there in an instant.’

  ‘And where would that leave me?’ Aleta asked, immediately regretting the question.

  ‘One day at a time,’ O’Connor said, his mischievous blue eyes softening.

  They ate in silence for a few moments before Aleta broached the topic that was always in the back of her mind. ‘The Mayans only gave us part of the prophecy. We know the next part lies with the Inca. But where to from here? Do we try to find those documents Brother Gonzáles told us about?’

  ‘Questions I don’t yet have answers to,’ said O’Connor, his brow furrowing. ‘And I’ve been reflecting on José Arana’s advice just before we left Guatemala.’ The Mayan shaman had predicted the world’s media would soon lose interest in the codex, and he’d urged them to remember the Inca. ‘But we’ve precious little to go on, other than what Brother Gonzáles has told us, and that encounter of yours with the Mitchell-Hedges skull, which I have to admit, I’m dubious about.’

  ‘Didn’t the CIA have a top-secret paranormal program where psychics were used for intelligence on the USSR?’ Aleta challenged, her full lips parting in a smile. ‘I seem to remember reading something about a psychic who could communicate with the mind of someone in the Kremlin and tell the CIA what was going on?’

 

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