That night, Meg slept on the couch in the Judge’s room. It was the first time since the crash that he had gone to bed without a sedative. Perhaps he derived some comfort from the memorial service for the victims, which had been held during the afternoon.
Judge Winchester was feeling stronger when he joined the others for Saturday breakfast. As soon as everyone was settled, he surprised them.
“This terrible thing will not go unpunished.” He spoke slowly, deliberately. “These people have murdered our loved ones and must face the consequences. All those who have been connected with them in any way must be hunted down and destroyed.”
Everyone was a little taken aback by the grim determination in his voice.
“I agree.” Meg thought that perhaps this approach might be the best thing for Marvin’s state of mind. “It’s too bad Stoker and Green are already dead; I wanted to execute them myself.”
Everyone’s eyes turned toward Meg, whose voice was almost grating with hate.
After a long, awkward silence, she changed the subject. “I quite forgot to tell you about Bobbie and the Barkers, Marvin. I spoke to Rodney on the phone yesterday, and they all want to return to the island if we think it’s safe. I said fine. They arrive tomorrow afternoon, and the Barkers plan to go straight to Leeward. I’ll meet them and bring Bobbie here.”
“Did Trilby say when he was coming back?” asked Anna.
“No,” replied Meg. “I talked to him very briefly, and he’ll call you soon. Sorry, I forgot to pass on the message.”
After their discussion, Anna decided to rest in a shaded area near the beach, and asked for a cordless phone in case Trilby tried to contact her. When he did so an hour later, he told her that Larsen’s secretary at Thibald and Sörnsen had let it slip that her boss was going to the Granby Hotel in Washington almost immediately. Trilby wondered why he was going there and not to UN Headquarters in New York, but decided not to ask. Larsen would be away from Stockholm for about two weeks.
“That’s all I’ve got to report” he concluded. “Larsen’s off to Washington for a couple of weeks. Big deal.”
“It is a big deal,” said Anna. “He probably arrived there last night.” She stood and looked at her watch. “If I pack right away, I can get the evening flight to Antigua and a nonstop connection to Washington tomorrow.”
“It doesn’t take a genius to guess what you’re going to do.”
“Is it that obvious?” Anna asked.
“Most certainly. It’s not that I have any objection, but can you handle it alone? Personally I think you need a backup. This kind of unplanned, sudden decision bothers me.”
“Thanks for your concern, Joel. But I’d rather be on my own, I work better that way. Although come to think of it, I do need a contact I can call upon. I’ll phone from the hotel in Antigua when I’ve had time to think through the operation. Is that okay?”
“No problem,” replied Trilby. “But watch yourself.”
Before leaving for Washington, Anna spoke to Judge Winchester in his room, and announced her intentions.
“What we need,” she concluded, “is enough evidence to prove that the Organization really exists. That’s the only way we’ll get help from the UN, or a country that hasn’t been infiltrated. I’m sure we all agree that we can’t possibly carry on alone. As for this trip, I may or may not get something out of Larsen. Either way he dies.”
“The only thing that bothers me is your safety,” replied the Judge. “But I suppose you know what you’re doing. I sincerely hope you’re successful. Good luck.”
Sunday, December 2, Heidelberg
Without a secure fax machine available at the St. Barbe’s Holiday Inn, Dougal McAllister was obliged to contact the reception desk to arrange a phone call with Judge Winchester in his room. He wanted to tell him about several new modem connections that he and Kurt had found in a previously overlooked area of Larsen’s electronic notebook.
“I’ll keep it short,” he began “We’ve succeeded in getting into Organization Headquarters via a modem connection in Casablanca, and we’ve pulled down a list of titles. They are Current Information, Projects, Area Status Reports and Station Orders. The files themselves were all in code except for Current Information, which contained a lot of stuff that’s actually public knowledge. However, by some sort of fluke we managed to get into Area Status Reports. The areas listed were Africa (North), Africa (South), Argentina, Australia, Canada, Caribbean, Europe (Germany), Europe (Russia), India, Japan, Middle East (Israel), New Zealand, Oceania (Indonesia), United States.
“I tried the US first and got, ‘Washington, DC, Director Raymond Colbert.’ Then came this message. ‘Connection closed, automatic logoff sequence initiated.’ After that, nothing worked, and it looked as though our intrusion had been detected. If you can arrange with the desk clerk for some privacy at the fax machine, I’ll send you what printouts there are.”
“Dougal, this stuff is invaluable. It confirms that this Colbert guy is an Organization agent in the US Government, but more important, the list of areas might well persuade the German security people to help us.”
“I’m not sure of they’ll bite, but I’ll see what I can do. Buzz me at this number when you can receive the fax safely.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Sunday, December 2, Washington DC
On arrival at Dulles Airport, Anna went straight to the Thibald and Sörnsen agency in the city. She produced her entry card at the security desk and breathed a sigh of relief when it was accepted without question. Thankfully, Larsen hadn’t succeeded in canceling it. She signed out a small handgun with a silencer, and went to the practice range in the basement to fire a few rounds. As she drove to the Granby Hotel, Anna reflected that at this moment, she would have no compunction whatsoever about shooting Larsen in cold blood after what he had done to Hans. Whether or not she would be in the same state of mind when the time arrived, was another matter.
At the hotel, she parked in the underground garage and registered for one night, giving a false name and a false license number for the car. Once in her room, which she had no intention of using if her mission was completed, she opened a small overnight bag. The only things she removed from it were toilet items. When she emerged from a shower a short while later, she saw herself glistening with water in the full-length bathroom mirror. She decided that her figure was still as slim and sexy as ever, in spite of the determined efforts of Larsen and his henchmen to render it otherwise. She was saddened by the thought that Hans would never look upon her again. After drying herself, she wrapped a towel around her body and called Trilby at the villa.
“Hello, Joel. How did you make out with the Granby reception desk? Is Larsen in or out?”
“He’s out, and not expected back until early evening.”
“Well done. That means I have time to get organized.”
“Anna, the room number is 421. Take care and watch yourself.” Trilby hung up.
She smiled when it dawned on her that Larsen’s room was right above her head—the number of hers was 321.
Anna got dressed in a lightweight suit with a jacket that was loose enough and large enough to cover up a specially designed shoulder holster. She inspected her gun carefully, and screwed on the silencer. The assembled weapon fitted perfectly. No one would notice it. Her plan was to hide in Larsen’s room and surprise him, just as he had surprised her in her Stockholm apartment. She would try to make him talk before killing him, but she had few expectations in that direction. The red LED numbers on the bedside clock radio showed 3:05 pm, and she decided to get set up immediately, even if it meant a long wait.
A few minutes later, Anna broke into Larsen’s room using appropriate lock picks. The layout of the furnishings was the same as her own room as would be expected, and she had already decided where to hide. After closing the door behind her, she went down a very short passage with a coat closet and the bathroom on the left. As she emerged into the bedroom, she passed a settee and sa
w that the only window had its curtains open and was set in the wall directly ahead of her on the far side of the bed. She had planned to conceal herself on the floor between it and the bed, but would sit comfortably in a chair that had been set by the window until the last moment. The sound of Larsen unlocking the door would alert her, leaving plenty of time to drop silently to the carpeted floor.
It was well over two hours before Anna heard the scrape of a key in the lock. The room was almost dark save for the reflection of the streetlights below the window, but she had no trouble reaching her predetermined spot behind the bed. In fact, there were a couple of seconds to spare. When the lights were switched on, she could see nothing from her position, so had to deduce what was going on from the sounds she heard. Footsteps are almost silent on carpet, but she sensed that the person who had entered, hopefully Larsen, was walking toward the bed. Something soft fell on it, an overcoat perhaps, then she heard the telephone being lifted and a number dialed. A moment later, she recognized Larsen’s voice and breathed a sigh of relief. The man in the room was her quarry, and not someone else.
“I wish to speak to the Vice President.”
There was a short silence.
“The call is coded Langley 2 and requires an immediate reply. Will you please pass the message?”
Another silence.
“Thank you. I’ll hold.” Larsen continued speaking after about half a minute. “Mr. Vice President, this is Larsen. We are planning a major strategy meeting for the last week in February somewhere in India. The exact location remains to be decided. Obviously you cannot attend in person because you’d be recognized, so I would like you to alert someone suitable to act as your proxy. Colbert, perhaps.”
Anna caught her breath. There was a pause.
“Thank you, Mr. Vice President. Goodnight.”
After a short silence, Anna was about to jump up and confront Larsen when she heard the click of the bathroom door closing. It was a welcome breather, and she rose from her cramped position, making sure the safety catch on her gun was off. The activity calmed her down considerably, and the situation appealed to her sense of the dramatic. As soon as Larsen emerged from the passage outside the bathroom, he would see someone he had presumed to be dead pointing a gun at him. However, when the moment actually arrived, what happened had a rather different flavor. The bathroom door opened, and there was Larsen looking straight at Anna. But instead of being surprised, all he did was raise his eyebrows a fraction. She had to admit the man was cool.
“Well, well,” Larsen said in English. “Miss Andersson. I never expected to see you again.”
Anna replied in the same language, but she had no idea why. “Your people didn’t do a good job on me, but they managed to kill Hans Wetzlar. That’s why I’m here.”
“Pity. I mean it was a pity they didn’t kill you too. They’ll have to be punished.”
“I don’t think you’re going to be in a position to do any punishing, or anything else for that matter. If you’ll kindly sit on the settee with your hands in your lap, we’ll get it over with.” Anna thought the whole conversation sounded like an excerpt from a second rate movie. It felt as though her mind was trying to distance her emotions from what she was about to do.
“I’ll make it painless if you’ll cooperate,” she continued. “But if not . . .”
“What do you want?”
“Information. Who are you? What are you? What is your purpose? I’m referring to your Organization, of course.”
Larsen stroked his pointed beard. “Since you won’t live long enough to do any damage, I suppose it won’t hurt to answer your questions.”
Anna tensed. He was in no position to make threats, and seemed remarkably composed for someone about to lose his life. Something was wrong.
“Hands on your lap, I said!” Anna snapped. “Now talk to me!”
“You want to know who we are?” Larsen began. “The answer is simple. A well coordinated, highly motivated group of very intelligent people. We are the brain trust of the world, and we are scattered more or less evenly across it. Half of us are scientists and our expertise covers every conceivable field. Others are politicians, but not typical ones. They are brilliant, and can manipulate any system of government in any country, and bend it to our purposes.”
“But what are your purposes, Larsen?”
“There’s really only one—to take over the planet. But it will require time, and recognizing this, we have allowed about fifty years. Our reasons are simple. First, the politicians thrown up for election in the world’s most influential countries are nothing short of incompetent, their motives being merely to satisfy their personal lust for power. Second, the planet is dying. It is being choked to death by billions of people. We are committed to halving the population within five hundred years. Our system is based on control. Control of the masses, control of their minds. The techniques for the last item are in their infancy, but tests on the criminals of St. Barbe’s have been successful. I can assure you that Judge Winchester and his associates will have great difficulty in finding all our subjects there.”
Larsen twisted his hand very slightly, a movement that wasn’t missed by Anna. He was checking his watch.
“We know you were responsible for the Neuhausen massacre,” said Anna. “And probably for other incidents too. But why? Surely the Neo-Nazis would be sympathetic to your aims?”
Larsen was disdainful. “They are simpletons, fools. They strut around with swastikas on their arms and make a lot of noise, and that’s all. Their removal was mainly an exercise, a test for future operations against more worthy targets.”
“Oh, my God,” Anna whispered.
But there was something vaguely wrong with this conversation. It seemed so detailed. Then it hit her. Larsen must be expecting a visitor. How stupid could she get? No wonder he was talking so much, giving so much away. He was buying time. Whoever it was could turn up at any second, then she would be the one to die, not him, and it wouldn’t matter if he said too much. The man was speaking again, unaware that Anna had been alerted.
“I suppose you heard me talking to the Vice President about our New Delhi meeting?”
“You said you hadn’t decided on the location.”
“The Vice President is a bad security risk.”
At that moment there was a knock on the door.
“Tell your visitor to come in,” Anna whispered.
“Come on in, Colbert, the door’s open!” He was almost shouting.
The shock of hearing the name of the visitor caused Anna to hesitate just long enough for Larsen to uncoil off the settee like a spring, and launch himself at her. But Anna’s arm was swinging her gun toward the door, which had just burst open to reveal a greater threat—Ray Colbert with a pistol half out of his pocket. Larsen grabbed at Anna’s weapon, which went off with a muted splat. Colbert fired at the same moment, but instead of hitting Anna, the bullet entered the side of Larsen’s head killing him instantly. Anna ended up standing against the wall of the short passage, her gun pointing at Larsen, who was lying at her feet. Blood was seeping onto the carpet from a small hole in his temple.
Colbert grabbed the knob of the door, and slammed it shut between them, perhaps with the intention of running while he had the chance. But without hesitating, Anna raised her gun and pulled the trigger three times in quick succession. Three holes appeared in the thin wood paneling, then there was a thump, and she knew she had hit Colbert. Gun at the ready she opened the door, causing him to fall forward across the entrance, a red stain spreading from beneath a black jacket. Anna had hit him in the chest and he was obviously dead.
The whole incident took less than half a minute, but Anna’s mind was working at top speed. She pocketed her weapon and grabbed Colbert under the arms. After maneuvering the body through the door, she dragged it a few feet down the passage so it was out of sight. There was no activity in the corridor as she poked her head cautiously outside—no telltale ding of an arriving elevator
, only silence. The next thing to do was to leave the building in very short order, without wasting time trying to cover up the blood stains on the floor.
Anna closed the door of Larsen’s room, leaving it locked. Resisting the temptation to run, she walked normally down the corridor to the exit door, which led to the stairway and her own room. As she did so, she looked for smears of blood on her clothes, but she had been careful when moving Colbert, and there were none. Once off the fourth floor, she knew her chances of escape had improved dramatically. Several people got off the nearby third floor elevator while she was unlocking her room, and she didn’t even flinch. Anna grabbed her bag and returned to the stairway. Much to her relief, the underground car park was deserted. She had parked the rental near the stairway exit, and in a few moments was driving quickly but carefully to the street. Swallowed up in the busy Washington traffic, she knew she was virtually untraceable. Her final task was to return her gun to the Thibald and Sörnsen office, which involved a ten minute diversion on the way to the airport.
Anna traveled to New York on one of several flights for which Trilby had made reservations. During her call to him from Dulles Airport, he gave her a choice of connections to Europe in case of delay. In fact, everything went like clockwork, and a couple of drinks on the plane from Washington to New York calmed her nerves. During the flight from Kennedy to Stockholm, she decided to rest for the remainder of Monday and return to work at Thibald and Sörnsen’s on Tuesday. She would call a meeting of all the directors immediately. It would be easy enough to tell the story of her abduction with enough sincerity to persuade them it was true, since it was. After that she would have to devise some means of checking them out, since it was quite likely that there were Organization agents among them. Before she had figured out how to do this, she fell asleep.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Leeward Page 27