"It's a hotel, Jack, on the banks of the Danube," Delchamps said. "You should take the little woman there sometime. Very romantic."
"The man I lost in the Uruguayan operation was killed with a garrote," Castillo said, softly. "The men who attempted to snatch Eric Kocian on the bridge in Budapest had both garrotes and a hypodermic needle full of a tranquilizer. The two men who went to Kocian's hotel room in Budapest had garrotes. When Mr. Masterson was kidnapped in Buenos Aires, she was knocked out with a shot in her buttocks…"
"You had to kill two people in Budapest?" Doherty persisted.
Castillo nodded and went on: "The garrote was used routinely by only the East German Stasi and the Hungarian Allamvedelmi Osztaly and Allamvedelmi Hatosag…"
"Which are?" Doherty asked.
"They were the Hungarian version of the Stasi. Sandor Tor, Kocian's bodyguard, told his people to find out if the two in the hotel were ex-AVO or ex-AVH. They were to call Dick here if that connection could be made. They haven't called, which strongly suggests they were not AVO or AVH, leaving only Stasi. It fits, Edgar."
"What fits?" Doherty asked.
"Off the top of your head, Jack," Delchamps asked, sarcastically, "who-besides the Israelis and Ace here's intrepid band of special operators-could mount, at just about the same time, professional snatch operations in Argentina, Uruguay, and Hungary?"
"You're saying you think the KGB is involved in this?" Doherty asked, incredulously.
"No, Jack, not the KGB," Delchamps said. "If we are to believe Mr. Putin, the bad old KGB, which he once led, is dead. It was replaced by the Federalnaya Sluzhba Bezopasnosti Rossiyskoy Federatsii, commonly called the FSB. And, yes, that thought has been running through my head."
"It fits, Edgar," Castillo repeated.
"Let's see if great minds really run down the same path, Ace," Delchamps said. "What's your scenario?"
"Putin's afraid his role in this is going to come out," Castillo began. "So get rid of the witnesses. Starting with Lorimer."
"Starting with Lorimer's number two, the guy who got whacked in Vienna," Delchamps said.
"Right," Castillo agreed. "And Lorimer, who suspected he was about to be whacked, put his Plan A into effect the moment he learned his pal was gone."
"'Plan A'?" Miller parroted.
"Get the hell out of Dodge," Castillo said. "He already had his alter ego set up in Uruguay. And his nest egg. Plan A was to stay out of sight until they stopped looking for him."
"Okay," Miller said, agreeing.
"So when he disappeared, how to find him?" Castillo said. "Through his sister."
"You don't really think the FSB keeps dossiers on UN diplomats, do you?" Delchamps said. "Listing next of kin, things like that?"
Castillo nodded. "Why wouldn't they?"
When Delchamps didn't respond, he went on: "So they snatched his sister and told her they would kill her children if she didn't locate her brother for them and then murdered her husband to show how serious they were."
"So who is they?" Delchamps said. "The KSB? I don't think so. But just for the sake of argument, let's say that Putin, out of the goodness of his heart, found some sort of employment for a group of deserving Stasi types who had lost their jobs when the Berlin Wall came down. You never know when you're going to need a good assassin."
"And if something went wrong, no connection with these guys to the KSB," Miller said. "Clever."
"And they were probably very useful when the oil-for-food scam was running," Delchamps said. "Both in moving money around and removing witnesses to any connection with Putin and Company."
"And no paper trail," Miller said. "Whatever money they were spending was oil-for-food money."
"That, too," Delchamps agreed. "Okay, Ace, then what?"
"I got lucky," Castillo said. "Otto Gorner heard that some West Germans were moving oil-for-food money to Argentina and Uruguay and told me about it. He also warned me that people who had been curious about this had died and to butt out."
"Which of course you were congenitally unable to do," Miller said, "and you went to Eric Kocian. He pointed you toward South America and then you got lucky with Confucius. He had a file on…what's the alter ego?"
"Bertrand," Castillo furnished, as he glanced at Yung. "Dave, you haven't said a word. Does that mean you think we're just pissing into the wind and you're too polite to say so?"
"Just before he changed sides, Kennedy was working on something with a Houston connection," Yung said. "I've been trying to remember what It was."
"Wouldn't there be a record of some sort? An interim report of some kind?" Delchamps asked.
"Kennedy took everything he had with him," Doherty said, bitterly. "I'm sure your friend Pevsner read it before it was destroyed. Why don't you ask him?"
"What were you looking for, Dave?" Castillo pursued. "Was there an oil-for-food scam connection?"
"Not as such," Yung said. "We were looking for unusual transfers-wire transfers-of large amounts of money. Money laundering, in other words. There's two facets of that-more than two, actually. One is income tax evasion. When we came across something suspicious-something, for example, that looked like someone was concealing income or assets-we turned it over to the IRS and let them deal with it. When the source of the money was suspicious-as if it might be drug money, for example, or in the case of politicians, purchasing agents, etcetera that looked like it might be bribes-we worked on that ourselves. The way we were working, I looked for anomalies, and when I found something suspicious Howard looked into it."
"And you remember something about Houston?" Castillo asked.
"Only just that," Yung said. "I've been trying hard to remember the specifics."
"Keep trying, Dave," Castillo said and turned to the others. "Where were we?"
"At the point where you decided to repatriate Lorimer," Miller said.
"Right," Delchamps said. "Meanwhile, the bad guys found out where Lorimer slash Bertrand was. How?"
"Well, at first they didn't know where he was," Castillo said. "Otherwise, they wouldn't have taken the risk of kidnaping Mr. Masterson to find out. That was an act of desperation."
"So somebody had to tell them," Delchamps said. "Who knew?"
"Castillo's pal, the Russian mafioso, Pevsner," Doherty said.
"I don't think so," Castillo said.
"Why do you keep defending that slimeball, Castillo?" Doherty snapped.
"If he knew where Lorimer was and had told the Ninjas," Castillo said, "he wouldn't have let me use his helicopter. He didn't want me whacked."
"Because he likes you, right?" Doherty asked.
"Because that would kill the deal he has about keeping the FBI and the CIA off his case."
"Another possibility is that it was just a coincidence that everybody descended on Never-Never Land at the same time," Delchamps said. "How the Ninjas found out where he was doesn't really matter. They did and staged that operation to take him out."
"That's one hell of a coincidence, wouldn't you say?" Doherty challenged.
"However it happened," Delchamps said, "the Ninjas went to the hacienda and were more than a little surprised to find Ace and Company already there."
"Why do you think they were surprised?" Doherty asked.
"Otherwise, the score of that ball game would not have been six to one," Delchamps said. "They probably thought they'd come on a bunch of local bandits knocking off a hacienda. Not in their league. Not a problem. Just whack everybody, leave the bodies where they fell, and take off. Surprise, surprise, it's the U.S. Cavalry."
"Yeah," Castillo said, thoughtfully.
"So what happened when there was no phone call to the embassy of the Russian Federation saying, 'Mission accomplished'?" Delchamps said. "'What happened? Who whacked our guys? Does it matter? Lorimer's dead. Next step, take out Kocian.'"
"After first finding out just how much he knows," Castillo said.
"Which would also apply to Special Agent Yung," Doherty said.
"Yeah, it would," Delchamps agreed. "Which means, as soon as they can find him, they're going to have another try at Kocian. I really want to talk to him, Ace, before that happens. We might not be so lucky again."
"Pevsner is probably on their hit list," Castillo said.
"Pevsner probably wrote their hit list," Doherty said.
"What do you want to do, Ace?" Delchamps asked.
"You never got around to telling us where you think the Kenyon Oil Refining and Brokerage Company fits into this, Edgar."
"Oh, yeah. Well, this may really be off the wall, but it's also possible. The Russians know about Kenyon's involvement with the oil-for-food scam. Maybe they were in it with him, I don't know, but it doesn't matter. The oil-for-food scam is over. So nobody needs Kenyon anymore."
He paused, visibly organizing his thoughts.
"You have to think of Putin as being KGB and with a sense of humor,"
Delchamps then went on, "or maybe he just has evil intentions. Anyway, he's got Kenyon on a hook. 'Do what I say or the FBI will find out what a naughty boy you have been.' Kenyon has all this money in the Caymans. 'How do I find out how deeply the hook is in him?' What is laughingly known as the intelligence community knows all about these lunatics in Philadelphia. They're being watched. 'The Americans swallowed the hidden nuclear suitcase bombs nonsense hook, line, and sinker once. Let's see if we can get them to swallow it again. So what I will do is tell the dummy in Midland to send the lunatics two million dollars to buy some tunnels to protect themselves from the nuclear blast in Philadelphia. Since they are being watched, this will come to the attention of the intelligence community. Net result: the American intelligence community runs around like chickens with their heads cut off looking for nuclear suitcases which have never left the warehouse in Siberia. Ha-ha!'"
He paused, let that sink in, then went on. "Probable benefit two: Putin knows about the forty-six million Kenyon has in the Cayman bank. Putin's pal, the famous Colonel Pyotr Sunev, now back at work after a teaching sabbatical at Grinnell University, can find many uses for forty-six mil. Or maybe Putin and Sunev will just split it between them.
"Kenyon probably would not be very anxious to hand it over. But that reluctance was before he sent the two million to the lunatics. Now Putin has him for not only illegally profiting from the oil-for-food scandal-and hiding the money-but also for sending two million to lunatics in Philadelphia known to have terrorist ties. Getting the picture, Ace?"
"I'm thinking about it," Castillo said. "It sounds off the wall, but…"
"Kenyon either gives them the money or goes to jail," Miller said. "To whom could he complain he was robbed?"
"Right," Delchamps said. "So what do you think, Ace?"
"I think we should go have a talk with Kenyon in Midland. Maybe we can get him to tell us who got him to send the money to Philadelphia."
"Maybe?" Miller said.
"What makes you think he'll tell you anything at all?" Doherty asked. "All you've got is a wild theory."
"Jesus, I just remembered Jake went home," Castillo said.
Miller immediately took his meaning.
"Charley, you steer and I'll work the radios," he said.
Castillo looked at him for a long moment before replying.
"You're sure?"
Miller nodded.
"Okay, get on the horn and have them roll the Gulfstream out of the hangar," Castillo said.
"You're going to Texas right now?" Doherty asked.
"We're going to Texas and then Buenos Aires," Castillo said. "Why don't you get on the horn to your wife and have her pack a bag and your passport?"
"Nothing was said about me going out of the country on a lunatic mission like this," Doherty said.
"I hope that was an observation rather than an indication you're going to be difficult," Castillo said.
"I'd like to go," Yung said.
"I wouldn't think of leaving home without you, David," Castillo said. He looked at Doherty. "I can make you go, Inspector, and you know it. But I don't want you along if you're going to be a pain in the ass. Your call."
Doherty met Castillo's eyes for a long moment before replying.
"How long are we going to be gone?" he asked, finally.
"Probably less than a week," Castillo said. "Thank you."
"What are we going to do about the blackboards?" Doherty asked.
"I was just thinking about that," Castillo said. "I'd like to have that data at the safe house in Buenos Aires. Is there some way we can photograph them and replicate them down there?"
"Not a problem," Doherty said.
"Okay, then. You start on that. I've got a couple of phone calls to make."
XVI
[ONE] Office of the Chief of Operational Analysis Department of Homeland Security Nebraska Avenue Complex Washington, D.C. 0935 12 August 2005 Castillo sat down in the leather-upholstered judge's chair behind his huge, ornate desk and looked uncomfortably around his luxuriously furnished office. He felt like an intruder. He shrugged and picked up the handset of what Billy Kocian had called his "science fiction radio."
"Neidermeyer," he ordered. "Put me through to Sergeant Major Davidson, please."
"Hold one, Colonel."
Five seconds later, Davidson's voice came over the circuit.
"Yes, sir?"
"Jack, there's reason to believe another attempt to kidnap or take out Eric Kocian is likely to happen."
"Really?"
"What's that phrase, 'Take all necessary precautions'?"
"Consider it done, Colonel."
"There's also good reason to think that the bad guys are ex-Stasi, which means you should keep that in mind when you're taking all necessary precautions. These guys are pros."
"That's interesting."
"Make sure everybody else knows."
"Including Kocian?"
"Especially Kocian."
"Done, Colonel. You don't have a time, do you?"
"Anywhere from four to twenty-four hours after they find out where he is. And, by now, they may already know."
"Kocian wants to go into Buenos Aires for lunch."
"That's off. He is not to leave Mayerling. I'd prefer that he not go outside the house."
"Well, you and I have sat on difficult people before. I'll deal with him."
"We'll be coming down there after a stop in Midland, Texas."
"To see Colonel Munz's family?"
"No. We found out there's a connection in Midland between the oil-for-food scam and the two million dollars the Philadelphia Muslims got for their bomb shelter. We're going to see what we can find out and then come down there."
"Got an ETA?"
"When there is one, I'll get it to you."
"I think we can handle things here, Colonel. Anything else?"
"I was about to ask you to patch me through to the embassy, but I just decided it'll be better if I make a perfectly ordinary call from here. I don't want to be responsible for tipping these bastards about Mayerling."
"Understood."
"Okay, Jack. Keep your eyes open and watch your back."
"You, too, Colonel."
"Break it down, Neidermeyer." Pevsner's phone numbers were in the cellular telephone Alex Darby had given him in Buenos Aires and Castillo had to go into his briefcase for it. When he turned it on, the screen read LOW BATTERY.
He pushed himself away from the desk and went into the outer-Mr. Agnes Forbison's-office, where, the moment Agnes saw him with the cellular in his hand, she put her hand out for it. Then she pulled open a drawer in her desk, where-predictably-she had a box full of assorted chargers and in a moment had fitted one of them to the phone.
"There's a socket in your banker's lamp on your desk," she said.
"Thanks."
"I gather you're going somewhere?" she asked.
"Midland, Texas, and then Buenos Aires," Castillo replied. "I think we've found the link between the oil-for-food scam and the nuclear suitcase bombs."
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She didn't say anything but her eyes asked for clarification.
"If I tell you this, there will be a nuclear mushroom over Philadelphia before I finish the sentence," Castillo said. "But right now, I really don't think there is a suitcase bomb any nearer than Siberia."
"Thank God!" she said.
"That whole scenario was to pull our chain," Castillo said. "Or, at least, pulling our chain was part of it."
"Can Dick tell me about it?"
"Dick's going with me. Jake is in Charleston."
"Is that going to work? Dick's leg…"
"He'll navigate. I'll steer," Castillo said. "It'll work."
Again her eyes asked for clarification.
"This is what Edgar Delchamps has come up with," he said. "Let me know what you think…" "This may be the dumbest thing I've said all week," Agnes said when he had finished, "but it just may be the answer. I haven't heard anything that makes more sense."
"I really hope so," Castillo said.
"You really like Delchamps, don't you?" she asked.
"He's the one who should be sitting behind that desk," Castillo said, nodding toward his office. "He's the only one around here who really knows what he's doing."
"No, he's not," Agnes said. "And he doesn't enjoy the confidence of the President."
"That's because the President doesn't know him-yet."
"I wonder how Ambassador Montvale is going to take this," Agnes said and, when she saw the look on Castillo's face, added: "You weren't going to tell him, were you? Charley, you have to."
"No, I wasn't," Castillo said. "And, yeah, I do." "Correct me if I'm wrong, Colonel," Ambassador Charles W. Montvale, the director of National Intelligence, said, "but you are suggesting I go to the President and say, in effect, 'Not to worry, Mr. President. There is no threat of a nuclear detonation in Philadelphia. All the Russian suitcase nuclear devices are still in the Soviet Union. It seems President Putin has been playing a little joke on us.'"
"I'm not suggesting you do anything, Mr. Ambassador," Castillo said.
"'The source of this rather interesting theory is a veteran-some might even say 'burned-out'-CIA field officer by the name of Delchamps, who does not, I'm afraid, enjoy the full confidence of his superiors in Langley," Montvale went on.
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