by Seb Kirby
I struggled to understand what Ferrara meant. “So you’re saying something about Himmler is key to understanding what happened to Arndt’s brother?”
“Yes, I think it’s clear from the importance Schreiber has given this. We are walking in Arndt’s shoes, here, where he is leading us, trying to piece together what he knew from the notes he left. This takes us a few steps further, I am sure.”
“And Munich itself is central.”
“Yes, James. I think that’s right.”
Gina called out again. “There’s a photo.”
She handed it over. It was a group photograph taken during one of Himmler’s visits to Dachau. Arndt Schreiber had annotated the image, drawing identifier rings around the faces. One of those present was Benito Lando.
I stared at the remorseless face that looked back. “There’s no doubting the family resemblance. Alfieri Lando was a dead ringer for his father.”
Ferrara cut in. “Proof enough that Benito Lando was an integral part of Himmler’s operations within the SS.”
Gina had a question. “So they executed Himmler, right?”
Ferrara shook his head. “The English captured him in 1945. He took a cyanide pill and avoided trial.”
The work continued into the early evening. There were false trails, all dismissed by Ferrara as not relevant, at least as far as he could tell at this time. The Ahnenerbe section of the SS, the myth of Hyperborea, the underground world of Shambhala, The Thule Society – all aspects of Nazi mysticism that Schreiber had found a passing interest in – were all given the same summary treatment by Ferrara. “These are dead ends unless we can establish a meaningful link to them and so we should place them on one side until we have need to refer to them. They are the subject of so much speculation and myth-making in their own right that I think we should leave it to others to speculate about their importance or otherwise. I am concerned that considerations such as these will deflect us from our search. Like so many others, these are matters Arndt strayed into that took up his time with no guarantee they would lead anywhere. The key to this lies in the art. I am certain.”
Gina nodded in agreement. “As I told James at the Swiss border, Arndt was concerned with missing art. It has to be important in what he discovered.”
I was less convinced. “So why was he so concerned to point us in the direction of Benito Lando and the Second World War?”
“Of course, that is relevant, James. I am not saying it is not. We have the photograph of Alfieri Lando’s father with Himmler at Dachau. But neither can we be certain at this stage that what we are looking at is anything as simple as the mythology of fascism. If I am right, the type of secret society Lando was drawn into has existed here for a long time and has seen fascism come and go. To survive all those years, to weather the wars and plagues and famines that have beset it through its long history, it has adapted, or seemed to adapt to suit the times.”
“And during the Second World War, fascism was where it found a home?”
“Yes, when it came to power it is likely it was nothing more than the vessel that Benito Lando’s distorted beliefs could be poured into, doing what he and his antecedents had always done, shifting the focus, the modus operandi to survive and prosper at that given moment in its long history, all the time retaining its secrecy. For the Landos, the SS became that vessel and the reason why Benito Lando was a part of it.”
“And that was sixty years ago.”
“Yes. And the kind of secret society Arndt’s brother, Max, was drawn into will also have moved on. What we are looking for is the reason why Arndt was so determined to look for what that connection might be.”
I was still not clear. “So where does it take us?”
“To places we would rather not go. To understand we must know and by knowing we run the risk of corrupting ourselves if we do not remain strong. And if we are not careful we may shine a light into dark places that should forever remain in darkness and are best left forgotten. Yet to defeat this evil, we must take this upon ourselves. We must focus, remain clear in the direction we need to pursue and not get diverted by the multitude of theories and inventions surrounding criminals like Himmler.”
Gina brought us back to earth. “Bring it on. I can be as strong as you need if that helps find my sister.”
Ferrara leaned back and stretched. “We need a break. Let’s see something of Munich.”
Chapter 68
Holding Bryce in interrogation was a problem Maynard could do without.
The facility was not supposed to exist. As far as the world out there was concerned the Agency had finished with torture. It would have been bad enough in the Middle East or Indo-China but here in the Haymarket in a quiet comer of London it would be a tough number to explain.
As if that was not enough, the prisoner was one of their own. It was distasteful to contemplate using any of the techniques at his disposal. Yet Bryce had planned to kill two of his fellow agents including Maynard himself and whatever had led him to this point was unknown. He was refusing to talk despite two long sessions of questioning.
Maynard knew there would be consequences if he didn’t find a way of unlocking Bryce. There could be a wider conspiracy threatening the lives of others in the Agency. There could be wider infiltration leading to a full-blown security threat. The do-nothing option was no option at all.
Despite these concerns, Maynard decided to give it one more try.
Bryce was waiting in the interrogation room, shackled at hands and feet.
Maynard went in and began. “Tell me, Bryce, what makes an Agent like you with twenty years of exemplary service lose it like this?”
Bryce remained silent.
“Can’t you see it’s going to be easier for you if you make a clean breast of it? Tell us what you know. It’s going to be a whole lot less painful that way.”
More silence.
Maynard told himself he should not underestimate the resolve of the man before him. As part of the training they’d all been through, Bryce was practiced in the kind of displacement that would allow him to endure days if not weeks of interrogation.
Maynard decided to act like a friend. He moved closer and spoke in quiet tones. “This doesn’t have to be ugly, Marvin. You know this is your last chance. You will tell us, sooner or later. But it doesn’t have to be that way. Think of your wife and kids. How much they need you. How they’re going to be devastated when they hear you’re MIA.”
Bryce shuddered. “You wouldn’t?”
“What, snuff you out? Like you tried to snuff out Bedford and me? Think about this with great care, Marvin. There are a million and one ways you might not make it out of here and every one of them is a believable accident.”
Bryce lowered his head. It was clear he was composing his thoughts, preparing to confess. “I shouldn’t have been taken in by him, Bill. I guess it’s too late now. You have me and there’s no way back.”
“You can tell me, Marvin. I promise I’ll do my best to get you the best possible result.”
Bryce began. “Nate Craven.” He paused to take a deep breath. “He received information that the Blakes were involved in the Town Lake bombing. They were there in Austin when the bombs went off. They were there for a reason. It’s why I came to London, to track them down. You know I told you that when I arrived.”
“So, why the attempt on Bedford and me?”
“It was James Blake. I found him from the leads Bedford made. I had him cornered. But he got to me. I was weak, I have to admit it. He offered me money. A million. More than I’m going to see in a lifetime with the Agency.”
Maynard leaned forward. “So, why would Blake want Bedford killed? How would he even know I exist?”
“Because they have contacts inside the organization. Miles, the brother, has someone feeding him from Washington. They know you’re after them. They want you out of the way. He was definite he wanted you both.”
“And where would he get that kind of money?”
“I don’t know, Bill. The Blakes are linked with Italian organized crime. I guess the money comes from there.”
“OK, Marvin. I’ve heard you. I’ll keep to my promise. I’ll report this in the best light I can. Meanwhile, I need to raise the priority level on bringing the Blakes in.”
“And what about me? Maybe there’s something I could do to make amends?”
“If you mean you have any chance of getting away with this, you can think again. But you could start by telling me what you know. Everything you know.”
“Like what?”
“Like Nate Craven. Is he straight?”
“Why would you ask?”
“Things I’m hearing I don’t know if I can believe. And the fact that he sent you here.”
Bryce looked back and didn’t blink. “I can tell you Nate is straight. He’s one of the best. He lives the job twenty-four-seven. He’s determined to close down the Blakes. That’s why he sent me. He had no idea I was going to let them get to me.”
“So tell me about McGraw?”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s missing. He wasn’t on the hit list you got from James Blake?”
Bryce shook his head. “No and no again, John. I don’t have anything to do with that.”
When Maynard left the interrogation room he had one thing on his mind. What Bryce had told him was believable and meant Bedford was the one he needed to talk to.
Maynard called Bedford into his office.
“No need to look sheepish, Bedford. Mark it down to crass inexperience. There are no heroes, get me? Just a bunch of damaged guys trying to make the best of a flawed world. You got that?”
Bedford was still the worse for wear. “I get it, sir. I shouldn’t have allowed myself to be taken in by Bryce. I want to thank you for doing what you did.”
“Don’t think I did it out of anything more than saving my own skin, Bedford. I could smell it on Bryce the moment I cast eyes on him. I knew he was set on some kind of betrayal. I just didn’t know that would come from the direction of a low life like James Blake.”
Bedford showed no surprise. “Is that who he named, sir?”
Maynard nodded. “That’s right. And you have no idea where Blake is?”
“No, sir. But we have Weston. We can use him to find Blake. I’m sure we can.”
“It’s all too little too late. But it’s not why I called you in here. Tell me about McGraw?”
“He’s missing.”
“I know he’s missing. Tell me why he’s missing. You were targeting Weston as a team. You were tailing him. What happened?”
Bedford looked guilty. “There were two traces on the RFID tracker app. We split up. The one I took was Weston. We have him back on board. McGraw took the other trace.”
“And you saw fit not to tell me?”
“Yes, sir.”
“So, tell me about the second trace.”
“That’s just what it was, sir. Someone else who picked up the dust from Weston’s apartment.”
“But you don’t know who it is?”
“No, sir.”
Despite what the young agent had been through, Maynard was finding it difficult to control his impatience. “Better find out where James Blake is.”
“Yes, sir. And thanks again for what you did.”
Maynard realized he had been wrong to ease up on his disapproval of Bedford. Just look where that had led.
It was a mistake he was not about to make again.
Chapter 69
The next hours focused on aiding Debbie Miller’s recovery.
She was as strong-willed as ever and rebuffed all attempts to tell her to slow down. “I’ll be all right. Concentrate on the strategy. Let’s make sure we get this right. We’ll only get one shot at it.”
Miles and Luiz Reyas were seated around the table in the living area of Debbie Miller’s hotel suite. The TV was on with the sound turned down so they could monitor the local news.
Both Miles and Luiz had found it difficult to conceal their real intentions when they’d met Dillon Ashley for the first time. The easy part had been to thank him for rescuing Debbie. He’d responded to that with a welcome modesty. The difficult part was knowing that Ashley had been sent by Nate Craven and having to be careful each word didn’t give anything away that might get back to Washington.
Luiz Reyas showed concern. “How do we know we can trust him?”
Debbie was in no doubt. “Because I believe him when he agreed with me he has too much to lose if Craven gets to know he shot El Romero.”
Miles cut in. “So where is he now?”
“Just so you know, he’s in his hotel room. Says he needs some down time to get over the fact that he’s just killed two men and placed another man in a coma.”
Miles agreed. “I guess after what he’s done we have to trust him.”
Luiz Reyas did not have time to reply. His gaze shifted towards the TV. “Turn up the volume.”
It was Martinez addressing a news conference. He was surrounded by a dozen or more reporters thrusting fuzzy-cover microphones his way.
He was claiming credit for the capture of a key member of the Soto drugs cartel, saying this was a breakthrough in limiting the power of the cartels, as he’d promised when appointed. He was making it clear that while two cartel members had been killed when they refused to surrender, the prize was the capture of El Romero, the cartel head. One of the most feared men in all Mexico was now brought to book.
Martinez did not get to finish the news conference.
A hand reached out from the press pack to reveal a gun. The barrel of the weapon was placed on the back of Martinez’s head. The assailant fired as the journalists scattered.
In the hotel room, all three were silent as Martinez was seen falling to the floor.
Debbie Miller was first to say it. “If Martinez is not safe, then no one is safe in this town. We need to leave.”
Miles agreed. “With Martinez gone, there’s going to be no one in authority to keep the word getting out that the FBI was involved in the El Romero shooting. And that’s going to lead straight to us. But what about Maynard’s courier?”
“Shouldn’t be a problem. We’ll hand the explosives sample over to someone Maynard trusts from the San Diego office on our way back home. They’ll ship it out to the Quantico lab under Maynard’s name.”
Miles looked down. “I won’t be with you, Debbie. My plan is to get back to the UK and to do that I need to go to the British Embassy in Mexico City to get an Emergency Passport.”
Debbie looked down. “In normal circumstances, I might be able to help, Miles. But it would alert Craven if I did anything to help.”
Luiz Reyas interrupted. “Be careful, Senor. There are as many in the power of the cartels in Mexico City as here.”
Debbie Miller turned to the Mexican. “What will you do, Luiz?”
“I will stay here, Senora. I have family to protect when the drugs war comes, as it must now that El Romero is finished and Johnny Rivenza is coming. You will all be wise to be far away from Mexico when the killing starts.”
They fell silent. Each knew this might be the last time they would see each other when, in the next few hours, they went their separate ways.
Miles felt the need to make his feelings clear to the young Mexican. “Luiz, don’t think this means you will not see the fulfillment of your mission to right the wrongs. If what we’ve discussed comes to pass, it will bring down those that have done wrong against the Reyas family.”
“I hope with all my heart that you are right, Senor.”
Chapter 70
Bedford took a deep breath.
Marvin Bryce had remained loyal to Nate Craven.
Maynard had accepted the lie he’d told about James Blake. So, things were bad but perhaps not irredeemable. Bryce had kept Craven in play.
For Bedford, that meant he himself was still in play. If Craven had gone down he would have taken Bedford with him.
; Bedford dialed the secret number.
There was no delay. Craven picked up. “Bedford. Good to hear from you.”
“Don’t play me for a fool, Nate. I know what you sent Bryce here to do.”
“I don’t now what you mean.”
“I knew you’d deny it. But I’m still here. Bryce is in lock down. And you know what, he’s talking.”
Craven chuckled. “Nice try, Bedford. But I have Maynard’s report. Bryce named James Blake. Looks like Maynard believes him. He wants to raise the priority on Blake’s capture. So, don’t think you can hold this over me.”
“Beats me why a man like Bryce would remain loyal.”
“Because of what you will never know. We go back. Right back. Understand?”
Bedford gathered his thoughts. “OK, Nate. This is how it is. I told you I had you dead to rights with the recording I made of Blake and Weston. You still sent Bryce after me. What’s stopping me going ahead and turning you in?”
Craven chuckled again. “Two things, Bedford. First, the chances of anyone believing any claim made by James Blake just went down by one hundred percent now he’s become a Class 1 target.”
“And?”
“Oh, yes, something I almost forgot to mention. Your encryption is nowhere near as good as you think it is.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning don’t you dare threaten me again with anything like that. Oh, and watch your back, Bedford. You won’t always have Maynard to protect you.”
Craven closed the line.
Bedford didn’t understand what Craven was implying until he logged in to the secure site he’d used to store the Weston-Blake recording.
