Robert Ludlum - Aquatain Progression.txt

by The Aquitaine Progression [lit]

  the internal conflicts of ranking enemy officers and

  the tactical reasons for shifting military personnel

  into civilian positions after the cessation of

  hostilities? No firm would have access to those

  materials."

  "They could be researched," said Joel, suddenly

  not convinced himself.

  "Well, these couldn't," Connal broke in, holding

  up the page of typewritten names, his thumb on the

  lower two columns listing the "decision makers' from

  the Pentagon and the State Department. "Maybe

  five or six three from each side at maximum but

  not the rest. These are people above the ones I've

  dealt with, men who do their jobs under a variety of

  titles so they can't be reached bribed, blackmailed

  or threatened. When you said you had names, I

  assumed I'd recognize most of them, or at least half

  of them. I don't. I only know the departmental

  execs, upper-echelon personnel who have to go even

  higher, who obviously report to these people. Press

  couldn't have gotten these names himself or through

  others on the outside. He wouldn't know where to

  look and they wouldn't know where to look I

  wouldn't know.'

  Converse rose. "Are you sure you know what

  you're talking about?"

  "Yes. Someone probably more than one- deep

  in the Washington cellars provided these names just

  as he or they provided the material for those

  dossiers."

  "Do you know what you're saying?"

  Connal stood still and nodded. "It's not easy for

  me to say," he began grimly. "Press lied to us. He

  lied to you by what he said, and to me by what he

  didn't say. You're tied to a string and it goes right

  back to Washington. And I wasn't to know anything

  about it.'

  "The puppet's in place.... " Joel spoke so softly

  he could barely be heard as he walked aimlessly

  across the room toward the bright sunlight

  streaming through the balcony doors.

  "What?' asked Fitzpatrick.

  "Nothing, just a phrase that kept running

  through my head when I heard about Anstett."

  Converse turned. "But if there's a string, why have

  they hidden it? Why did Avery hide it? For what

  purpose?"

  THE AQUITAINE PROGRESSION 269

  The Navy lawyer remained motionless, his face

  without expression. ' I don't think I have to answer

  that. You answered it yourself yesterday afternoon

  when we were talking about me and don't kid

  yourself, Lieutenant, I knew exactly what you were

  saying. 'I'll give you a name now and then that may

  open a door . . . but that's all. Those were your

  words. Freely translated, you were telling yourself

  that the sailor you took on board might stumble on

  to something, but in case he was taken by the wrong

  people, they couldn't beat out of him what he didn't

  know."

  Joel accepted the rebuke, not merely because it

  was justified, but because it made clear a larger

  truth, one he had not understood on Mykonos. Beale

  had told him that among those raising questions in

  Washington were military men who for one reason

  or another had not pursued their inquiries; they had

  kept silent. They had kept silent where they might be

  overheard, perhaps, but they had not totally kept

  their silence. They had talked in quiet voices until

  another quiet voice from San Francisco a man who

  knew whom to reach courtesy of a brother-in-law in

  San Diego made contact. They had talked together,

  and out of their secret conversations had come a

  plan. They needed an infiltrator, a man with the

  expertise who had a loathing they could fuel and,

  once fired, send out into the labyrinth.

  The realisation was a shock, but oddly enough,

  Joel could not fault the strategy. He did not even

  fault the silence that remained after Preston

  Halliday's murder; loud accusing voices would have

  rendered that death meaningless. Instead, they had

  stayed quiet, knowing that their puppet had the tools

  to make his way through the maze of illegalities and

  do the job they could not do themselves. He

  understood that, too. But there was one thing

  Converse could not accept, and that was his own

  expendability as the puppet. He had tolerated being

  left unprotected under the conditions outlined by

  Avery Fowler-Preston Halliday, not under these. If

  he was on a string, he wanted the puppeteers to

  know he knew it. He also wanted the name of

  someone in Bonn he could call, someone who was a

  part of them. The old rules did not apply any longer,

  a new dimension had been added.

  In four hours he would be driven through the

  iron gates of Erich Leifhelm's estate; he wanted

  someone on the outside, a man Fitzpatrick could

  reach if he did not come out by midnight. The

  demons were pressing hard, thought Joel. Still, he

  270 ROBERT LUDIUM

  could not turn back. He was so close to trapping the

  warlord of Saigon, so close to making up for so

  much that had warped his life in ways no one would

  ever understand.... No, not no one,' he reflected.

  One person did, and she had said she could not

  help him any longer. Nor had it been fair any

  longer to seek her help.

  "What's your decision?" said Connal.

  "Decision?" asked Joel, startled.

  "You don't have to go this afternoon. Throw it

  all back! This belongs Stateside with the FBI in

  conjunction with the Central Intelligence Agency

  overseas. I'm appalled they didn't take that route."

  Converse breathed the start of a reply, then

  stopped. It had to be clear, not only to Fitzpatrick

  but to himself. He thought he understood. He had

  seen the look of profound panic in Avery Fowler's

  eyes Preston Halliday's eyes and he had heard the

  cry in his voice. The lies were his strategy, but the

  look and the cry were his innermost feelings.

  "Has it occurred to you, Commander, that they

  can't take that route? That, perhaps, we're not

  talking about men who can pick up a phone as

  you said before and put those wheels in motion?

  Or if they tried, they'd have their heads cut off,

  perhaps literally, with an official and a bullet in the

  back of their skulls? Let me add that I don't think

  they're afraid for themselves any more than I

  believe they chose the best man for the job, but I do

  think they came to a persuasive conclusion. They

  couldn't work from the inside because they didn't

  know whom they could trust."

  "Christ, you're a cold son of a bitch."

  "Ice, Commander. We're dealing with a paranoid

  fantasy called Aquitaine, and it's controlled by

  proven, committed, highly intelligent and

  resourceful men, who if they achieve what they've

  set out to do will appear as the voices of strength

  and reason in a world gone mad. T
hey'll control

  that world our world because all other options

  will pale beside their stability. Stability, counselor, as

  opposed to chaos. What would you choose if you

  were an everyday nine-to-fiver with a wife and kids,

  and you could never be sure when you went home

  at night whether or not your house had been broken

  into, your wife raped, your kids strangled? You'd

  opt for tanks in the street."

  "With justification," said the Navy lawyer, the

  two words spiraling quietly off into the air of the

  sunlit room.

  THE AQUITAINE PROGRESSION 271

  "Believe that, sailor. They're banking on it, and

  that's just what they're planning to do on an

  international scale. It's only a few days or a few

  weeks away whatever it is, wherever it is. If I can

  just get an inkling . . ." Converse turned and started

  for the door of his bedroom.

  "Where are you going?" asked Connal.

  'Beale's telephone number on Mykonos; it's in

  my briefcase. He's my only contact and I want to talk

  to him. I want him to know the puppet has just been

  granted some unexpected free will."

  Three minutes later Joel stood at the table, the

  phone to his ear as the Greek operator in Athens

  routed his call to the island of Mykonos. Fitzpatrick

  sat on the couch, Chaim Abrahms' dossier in front of

  him on the coffee table, his eyes on Converse.

  "Are you getting through all right?" asked the

  Navy lawyer.

  "It's ringing now." The erratic, stabbing signals

  kept repeating four, five, six times. On the seventh

  the telephone in the Aegean was picked up.

  "Herete?"

  "Dr. Beale, please. Dr. Edward Beale."

  "Tee tha thelete?"

  "Beale. The owner of the house. Get him for me

  please!" Joel turned to Fitzpatrick. "Do you speak

  GreekP"

  "No, but I've been thinking about taking it up."

  "You do that." Converse listened again to the

  male voice in Mykonos. Greek phrases were spoken

  rapidly, none comprehensible. "Thank yout

  Good-bye." Joel tapped the telephone bar several

  times, hoping the overseas line was still open and the

  English-speaking Greek operator was still there.

  "Operator? Is this the operator in Athens? . . .

  Good! I want to call another number on Mykonos,

  the same billing in Bonn." Converse reached down

  on the table for the instructions Preston Halliday had

  given him in Geneva. "It's the Bank of Rhodes. The

  number is . . ."

  Moments later the waterfront banker, Kostas

  Laskaris, was on the line. "Herete."

  "Mr. Laskaris, this is Joel Converse. Do you

  remember me?"

  "Of course.... Mr. Converse?" The banker

  sounded distant, somehow strange, as if wary or

  bewildered.

  "I've been trying to call Dr. Beale at the number you

  272 ROBERT LUDLUM

  gave me, but all I get is a man who can't speak

  English. I wondered if you could tell me where

  Beale is."

  A quiet expulsion of breath could be heard over

  the phone. "I wondered," said Laskaris quietly. "The

  man you reached was a police officer, Mr. Converse.

  I had him placed there myself. A scholar has many

  valuable things."

  "Why? What do you mean?"

  "Shortly after sunrise this morning Dr. Beale

  took his boat out of the harbor, accompanied by

  another man. Several fishermen saw them. Two

  hours ago Dr. Beale's boat was found crashed on

  the rocks beyond the Stephanos. There was no one

  on board."

  I killed him. With a scaling knife dropping his

  body over a cluster of sharks beyond the shoals of the

  Stephanos.

  Joel hung up the phone. Halliday, Anstett,

  Beale, all of them gone all his contacts dead. He

  was a puppet on the loose, his strings gone haywire,

  leading only to shadows.

  15

  Erich Leifhelm's warlike skin paled further as

  his eyes narrowed and his starched white lips

  parted. Then blood rushed to his head as he sat

  forward at the desk in his library and spoke into the

  telephone. "What was that name again, London?"

  "Admiral Hickman. He's the "

  "No," interrupted the German sharply. "The

  other one! The officer who has refused to release

  the information."

  "Fitzpatrick, an Irish name. He's the ranking

  legal officer at the naval base in San Diego."

  "A Lieutenant Commander Fitzpatrick?"

  "Yes, how did you know?"

  "Unglaublich! Diese Stum per!"

  "Warum?" asked the Englishman. "In what sense?"

  "He may be what you say he is in San Diego,

  Englander, but he is not in San Diego! He's here in

  Bonn!"

  "Are you mad? No, of course, you're not. Are

  you certain ?"

  THE AQUITAINE PROGRESSION 273

  "He's with Converse! I spoke to him myself. The

  two are registered in his name at Das Rektorat! He

  is how we found Converse!"

  'There was no attempt to conceal the name?"

  "On the contrary, he used his papers to gain

  entrance!"

  "How bloody third-rate," said London,

  bewildered. "Or how downright sure of himself,"

  added the Britisher, his tone changing. "A signal? No

  one dares touch him?"

  "Unsinn!It's not so."

  "Why not?"

  "He spoke to Peregrine, the ambassador. Our

  man was there. Peregrine wanted to take him,

  wanted him brought forcibly to the embassy. There

  were complications; he got away."

  "Our man wasn't very good, then."

  "An obstruction. Some Schauspieler an actor.

  Peregrine will not discuss the incident. He says

  nothing."

  "Which means no one will touch his naval officer

  from California," concluded London. "There's a very

  good reason.

  "What is it?"

  "He's the brother-in-law of Preston Halliday."

  "Geneva! Mein Gott, they are into us!"

  "Someone is, but not anyone with a great deal of

  information. I agreed with Palo Alto, who also

  agrees with our specialist in the Mossad with

  Abrahms, as well."

  "The Jew? What does the Jew say? What does he

  say?"

  "He claims this Converse is an agent flying blind

  out of Washington."

  "What more do you need ?"

  "He is not to leave your house. Instructions will

  follow."

  Stunned, Undersecretary of State Brewster

  Tolland hung up the phone, sank back in his chair,

  then shot forward and pressed the appropriate

  buttons on his console.

  "Chesapeake," said the female voice. "Code, please?"

  "Six thousand," said Tolland. "May I speak with

  Consular Operations, Station Eight, please?"

  "Station Eight requires "

  "Plantagenet," interrupted the Undersecretary.

  "Right away, sir."

  "What is it, Six thousand?"

  274 ROBERT LUDLUM

&
nbsp; 'Cut the horseshit, Harry, this is Brew. What

  have you got running in Bonn we don't know

  about?"

  "Off the top of my head, nothing."

  "How far off the top is that?"

  "No, it's straight. You're current on everything

  we're doing. There was an FRG review yesterday

  morning, and I'd remember if there was anything

  that excluded you."

  "You might remember, but if I'm excluded I'm out."

  "That's right, and I'd tell you as much if only to

  keep you out, you know that. What's your

  problem?"

  "I just got off the scrambler with a very angry

  ambassador, who may just call a very old friend at

  Sixteen Hundred."

  "Peregrine? What's his problem?"

  "If it's not you, then someone's playing Cons Op.

  It's supposedly a covert investigation of the

  embassy his embassy somehow connected with

  the Navy Department."

  "The Navy? That's crazy I mean dumb crazyl

  Bonn's a port?"

  "Actually, I suppose it is."

  "I never heard of the Bismarek or the Graf Spee

  steaming around the Rhine. No way, Brew. We

  don't have anything like that and we wouldn't have.

  Do you have any names?"

  "Yes, one," replied Tolland, looking down at a

  pad with hastily scribbled notes on it. "An attorney