whipped his harem's women in a courtyard when they
failed to arouse him.
Kostas Laskaris was not at all whatJoel had
expected from the brief, disconcerting conversation
over the phone. He was a balding, pleasant-faced man
in his late fifties, with warm
THE AQUITAINE PROGRESSION 41
dark eyes, and relatively fluent in English but
certainly not comfortable with the language. His first
words upon rising from his desk and indicating a
chair in front of it for Converse contradicted Joel's
previous impression.
"I apologizefor what might have appeared as a
callous statement on my part regarding Mr. Halliday.
However, it ureas most unfortunate, and I don't
know how else to phrase it. And it is difficult, sir, to
grieve for a man one never knew."
"I was out of line. Forget it, please."
"You are most kind, but I am afraid I cannot
forget the arrangements mandated by Mr. Halliday
and his associate here on Mykonos. I must have your
passport and the letter, if you please?"
"Who is he?" asked Joel, reaching into his jacket
pocket for his passport billfold; it contained the
letter. "The associate, I mean."
"You are an attorney, sir, and surely you are
aware that the information you desire cannot be
given to you until the barriers have been leaped, as
it were. At least, I think that's right."
"It'll do. I just thought I'd try." He took out his
passport and the letter, handing them to the banker.
Laskaris picked up his telephone and pressed a
button. He spoke in Greek and apparently asked for
someone. Within seconds the door opened and a
stunning bronzed, dark-haired woman entered and
walked gracefully over to the desk. She raised her
downcast eyes and glanced at Joel, who knew the
banker was watching him closely. A sign from
Converse, an other glance from him directed at
Laskaris and introduc tions would be forthcoming,
accommodation tacitly promised, and a conceivably
significant piece of information would be entered in
a banker's file. Joel offered no such sign; he wanted
no such entry. A man did not pick up half a million
dollars for nodding his head, and then look for a
bonus. It did not signify stability; it signified
something else.
Inconsequential banter about flights, customs and
the general deterioration of travel covered the next
ten minutes, at which time his passport and the letter
were returned not by the striking, dark-haired
woman but by a young, balletic blond Adonis. The
pleasant-faced Laskaris was not missing a trick; he
was perfectly willing to supply one, whichever route
his wealthy visitor required.
Converse looked into the Greek's warm eyes, then
42 ROBERT LUDLUM
smiled, the smile developing into quiet laughter.
Laskaris smiled back and shrugged, dismissing the
beachboy.
'I am chief manager of this branch, sir," he said
as the door closed, "but I do not set the policies for
the entire bank. This is, after all, Mykonos."
"And a great deal of money passes through
here," added Joel. "Which one did you bet on?"
"Neither," replied Laskaris, shaking his head.
"Only on exactly what you did. You'd be a fool
otherwise, and I do not think you are a fool. In
addition to being chief manager on the waterfront,
I am also an excellent judge of character."
"Is that why you were chosen as the intermediary?"
"No, that is not the reason. I am a friend of Mr.
Halliday's associate here on the island. His name is
Beale, incidentally. Dr. Edward Beale.... You see,
everything is in order."
"A doctor?" asked Converse, leaning forward
and accepting his passport and the letter. "He's a
doctor?"
"Not a medical man, however," clarified
Laskaris. "He's a scholar, a retired professor of
history from the United States. He has an adequate
pension and he moved here from Rhodes several
months ago. A most interesting man, most
knowledgeable. I handle his financial affairs in
which he is not very knowledgeable, but still
interesting."" The banker smiled again, shrugging.
"I hope so," said Joel. "We have a great deal to
discuss..'
"That is not my concern, sir. Shall we get to the
disposition of the funds? How and where would you
care to have them paid?"
"A great deal in cash. I bought one of those
sensorized money belts in Geneva the batteries are
guaranteed for a year. If it's ripped off me, a tiny
siren goes off that splits your eardrums. I'd like
American currency for myself and the rest
transferred."
"Those belts are effective, sir, but not if you are
unconscious, or if there is no one around to hear
them. Might I suggest traveler's checks?"
"You could and you'd probably be right, but I
don't think so. I may not care to write out a
signature."
"As you wish. The denominations for yourself,
please?" said Laskaris, pencil in hand, pad below.
"And where would you like the remainder to be
sent?"
"Is it possible," asked Converse slowly, "to have
accounts set up not in my name but accessible to
me?"
THE AQUITAINE PROGRESSION 43
'&Of course, sir. Frankly, it is often standard in
Mykonos as well as in Crete, Rhodes, Athens,
Istanbul, and also much of Europe. A description is
wired, accompanied by words written out in your
handwriting another name, or numbers. One man
I knew used nursery rhymes. And then they are
matched. One must use a sophisticated bank, of
course."
'Of course. Name a few."
"Where?"
"In London, Paris, Bonn maybe Tel Aviv," said
Joel, trying to remember Halliday's words.
"Bonn is not easy; they are so inflexible. A wrong
apostrophe and they summon whomever they
consider their authorities.... Tel Aviv is simple;
money is as freewheeling and as serpentine as the
Knesset. London and Paris are standard and, of
course, their greed is overwhelming. You will be
heavily taxed for the transfers because they know you
will not make an issue over covert funds. Very
proper, very mercenary, and very much thievery."
"You know your banks, don't you?"
"I've had experience, sir. Now, as to the
disbursements?
"I want a hundred thousand for myself nothing
larger than five-hundred-dollar bills. The rest you
can split up and tell me how I can get it if I need it."
"It is not a difficult assignment, sir. Shall we start
writing names, or numbers or nursery rhymes?"
"Numbers," said Converse. "I'm a lawyer. Names
and nursery rhymes are in dimensions I don't want to
think about right now."
"A
s you wish," said the Greek, reaching for a pad.
'And here is Dr. Beale's telephone number. When
we have concluded our business, you may call
him or not, as you wish It is not my concern."
Dr. Edward Beale, resident of Mykonos, spoke
over the telephone in measured words and the slow,
thoughtful cadence of a scholar. Nothing was rushed;
everything was deliberate.
"There is a beach more rocks than beach, and
not frequented at night about seven kilometers
from the waterfront. Walk to it. Take the west road
along the coast until you see the lights of several
buoys riding the waves. Come down to the water's
edge. I'll find you."
* * *
44 ROBERT LUDLUM
The night clouds sped by, propelled by
high-altitude winds, letting the moonlight penetrate
rapidly, sporadically, illuminating the desolate
stretch of beach that was the meeting ground. Far
out on the water, the red lamps of four buoys
bobbed up and down. Joel climbed over the rocks
and into the soft sand, making his way to the water's
edge; he could both see and hear the small waves
lapping forward and receding. He lit a cigarette,
assuming the flame would announce his presence. It
did; in moments a voice came out of the darkness
behind him, but the greeting was hardly what he ex-
pected from an elderly, retired scholar.
"Stay where you are and don't move" was the
first command, spoken with quiet authority. "Put the
cigarette in your mouth and inhale, then raise your
arms and hold them straight out in front of you....
Good. Now smoke, I want to see the smoke."
"Christ, I'm choking!" shouted Joel, coughing, as
the smoke, blown back by the ocean breeze, stung
his eyes. Then suddenly he felt the sharp, quick
movements of a hand stabbing about his clothes,
reaching across his chest and up and down his legs.
"What are you doing?" he cried, spitting the cigarette
out of his mouth involuntarily.
"You don't have a weapon," said the voice.
"Of course not!"
"I do. You may lower your arms and turn around
now."
Converse spun, still coughing, and rubbed his
watery eyes. "You crazy son of a bitch!"
"It's a dreadful habit, those cigarettes. I'd give
them up if I were you. Outside of the terrible things
they do to your body, now you see how they can be
used against you in other ways."
Joel blinked and stared in front of him. The
pontificator was a slender, white-haired old man of
medium height, standing very erect in what looked
like a white canvas jacket and trousers. His
face what could be seen of it in the intermittent
moonlight was deeply lined, and there was a
partial smile on his lips. There was also a gun in his
hand, held in a firm grip, levered at Converse's
head. "You're Beale?" asked Joel. "Dr. Edward
Beale?"
"Yes. Are you calmed down now?"
"Considering the shock of your warm welcome, I
guess
"Good. I'll put this away, then." The scholar lowered
the
THE AQUITAINE PROGRESSION 45
gun and knelt down on the sand next to a canvas
satchel. He shoved the weapon inside and stood up
again. "I'm sorry, but I had to be certain."
"Of what? Whether or not I was a commando?"
"Halliday's dead. Could a substitute have been
sent in your place? Someone to deal with an old man
in Mykonos? If so, that person would most certainly
have had a gun."
"Why?"
"Because he would have had no idea that I was
an old man. I might have been a commando."
"You know, it's possible just possible that I
could have had a gun. Would you have blown my
goddamned head off?"
'A respected attorney coming to the island for
the first time, passing through Geneva's airport
security? Where would you get it? Whom would you
know on Mykonos?"
'Arrangements could have been made," protested
Converse with little conviction.
"I've had you followed since you arrived. You
went directly to the bank, then to the Kouneni hotel,
where you sat in the garden and had a drink before
going to your room. Outside of the taxi driver, my
friend Kostas, the desk clerk, and the waiters in the
garden, you spoke to no one. As long as you were
Joel Converse I was safe."
"For a product of an ivory tower, you sound more
like a hit man from Detroit."
"I wasn't always in the academic world, but yes,
I've been cautious. I think we must all be very
cautious. With a George Marcus Delavane it's the
only sound strategy."
"Sound strategy?"
"Approach, if you like." Beale reached between
the widely separated buttons of his jacket and
withdrew a folded sheet of paper. "Here are the
names," he said, handing it to Joel. "There are five
key figures in Delavane's operation over here. One
each from France, West Germany, Israel, South Af-
rica, and England. We've identified four the first
four but we can't find the Englishman."
"How did you get these?"
"Originally from notes found among Delavane's
papers by Halliday when the general was his client."
"That was the accident he mentioned, then? He
said it was an accident that wouldn't happen again."
"I don't know what he told you, of course, but it
certainly was an accident. A faulty memory on
Delavane's part, an af
46 RORERT LUDIUM
flictionI can personally assure you touches the aging.
The general simply forgot he had a meeting with
Halliday, and when Preston arrived, his secretary let
him into the office so he could prepare papers for
Delavane, who was expected in a half hour or so.
Preston saw a file folder on the general's desk; he
knew that folder, knew it contained material he
could cross-check. Without thinking twice, he sat
down and began working. He found the names, and
knowing Delavane's recent itinerary in Europe and
Africa, everything suddenly began to fall into
place very ominously. For anyone politically aware,
those four names are frightening they dredge up
frightening memories."
"Did Delavane ever learn that he'd found them?"
"In my judgment, he could never be certain.
Halliday wrote them down and left before the
general returned. But then Geneva tells us
something else, doesn't it?"
"That Delavane did find out," said Converse grimly.
"Or he wasn't going to take any further chances,
especially if there was a schedule, and we're
convinced there is one. We're in the countdown
now."
"To what?"
"From the pattern of their operations what we've
pieced together a prolonged series of massive,
orchestrated conflagrations designe
d to spin
governments out of control and destabilize them."
"That's a tall order. In what way?"
"Guesswork," said the scholar, frowning.
"Probably widespread, coordinated eruptions of
violence led by terrorists everywhere terrorists
fueled by Delavane and his people. When the chaos
becomes intolerable, it would be their excuse to
march in with military units and assume the
controls, initially with martial law."
"It's been done before," said Joel. "Feed and arm
a presumed enemy, then send out provocateurs "
"With massive sums of money and material."
"And when they rise up," continued Converse,
"pull out the rug, crush them, and take over. The
citizens give thanks and call the heroes saviors, as
they start marching to their drums. But how could
they do it?"
"That's the all-consuming question. What are the
targets? Where are they, who are they? We have no
idea. If we had an inkling, we might approach from
that end, but we don't,
THE AQUITAINE PROGRESSION 47
and we can't waste time hunting for unknowns. We
must go after what we do know."
"Again, time," Joel broke in. "Why are you so
sure we're in a countdown?"
"Increased activity everywhere in many cases
frantic. Shipments originating in the States are
funneled out of warehouses in England, Ireland,
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