Robert Ludlum - Aquatain Progression.txt

by The Aquitaine Progression [lit]

  had a right to expect. Both Joel and I know the risks

  you're taking legally, as a general, all of it and if

  there was any other way, we wouldn't involve you.

  But after you hear what I have to say, you'll un-

  derstand why we can't wait any longer, why Joel

  agreed to let me try to find you.... You were my

  idea, Sam, but Joel wouldn't have heard of it unless

  he felt he had to not for himself; he doesn't expect

  to live. That's what he said and he believes it."

  A waitress brought coffee and Abbott thanked

  her. "We'll order later," he added, staring at Valerie.

  You'll have to trust my judgment, you understand

  that, don't you?"

  Yes. Because I trust you."

  "When I couldn't reach you I made a few calls to

  people I worked with a couple of years ago in

  Washington. They're men who're deep into these

  kinds of things, who have answers long before most

  of us know the questions."

  "Those are the people Joel wants you to reach!"

  interrupted Val. "You saw him then; you spent a

  night at his hotel, don't you remember? He said you

  both drank too much."

  552 ROBERT LUDLUM

  "We did," agreed Sam. "And talked too much."

  "You were evaluating aircraft 'equipment,' Joel

  called it with specialists from various intelligence

  units."

  "That's right."

  "They're the ones he has to contact! He has to

  see them, talk to them, tell them everything he

  knows! I'm getting ahead of myself, Sam, butJoel

  thinks those people should have come in at the

  beginning the beginning for him. He understands

  why he was chosen and, incredibly, he doesn't even

  now fault that decision! But they should have been

  therel"

  "You're way ahead of yourself.'

  "I'll go back."

  "Let me finish first. I talked to them, telling

  them I didn't believe what I was reading and

  hearing; it wasn't the Converse I knew, and to a

  man they told me to back off. It was hopeless and I

  could get badly tarnished. It wasn't the Converse I

  knew, they said. He'd psyched out; he was another

  person. There was too much evidence to support the

  blow-out."

  "But you took my call. Why?"

  "Two reasons. The first is obvious I knew Joel;

  we went through a lot together and none of this

  makes sense to me maybe I don't want it to make

  sense. The second reason is a lot less subjective. I

  know a lie when I hear one when I know it can't

  be the truth and a lie was fed to me just as it was

  fed to the people who delivered it." Abbott sipped

  his coffee as if telling himself to slow down and be

  clear. The leader of the squadron was in control; he

  had to be. "I spoke to three men I knew, men I

  trust, and each checked with his own sources. They

  all came back to me, each telling me essentially the

  same thing but in different language, different

  viewpoints depending on their priorities that's the

  way it works with these people. But one item didn't

  vary so much as a syllable and it was the lie. The

  label is drugs. Narcotics."

  ";Joel9"

  "Their words were practically identical. 'Evidence

  is pouring in from New fork, Geneva, Paris, that

  Converse was a heavy buyer.' That was one phrase;

  the other was 'Medical opinion has it that the

  hypodermics finally blew him up and blew him

  back.'"

  "That's crazyl It's insane!" cried Valerie as

  Abbott grabbed her hand to quiet her down. "I'm

  sorry, but it's such a terrible lie," she whispered.

  "You don't know "

  "Yes, Val, I do know. Joel was pumped five or six

  times

  THE AQUITAINE PROGRESSION 553

  in the camps with substances sent down from Hanoi,

  and no one fought it harder or hated it more than he

  did. The only chemicals he'd allow in his body after

  that were tobacco and alcohol. I've seen us both with

  third-degree hangovers and while I tore medicine

  cabinets apart for a Bromo or an aspirin, he wouldn't

  touch them."

  'Whenever his passport shots came up, he had to

  have four martinis before he went to the doctor,"

  said Valerie. "Good God, who would spread a thing

  like that?"

  "When I tried to find out I was told that even I

  couldn't have that information."

  The former Mrs. Converse now stared at the

  brigadier general. "You have to find out, Sam, you

  know that, don't you?"

  "Tell me why, Val. Put it together for me."

  "It began in Geneva, and for Joel the operative

  name the operative name was George Marcus

  Delavane."

  Abbott flinched and shut his eyes; his face

  became suddenly older.

  The cry of the cat on a frozen lake became a

  scream as the man in the wheelchair fell to the floor,

  his two stumps that once were legs scissoring

  maniacally to no avail. With strong arms he pushed

  his torso up from the rug.

  "Adjutant! Adjutantl" roared General George

  Marcus Delavane as the dark-red telephone kept

  ringing on the desk below the fragmented map.

  A large, muscular middle-aged man in full

  uniform ran out of a door and rushed to his

  superior. "Let me help you sir," he said emphatically,

  pulling the wheelchair toward them both.

  "Not me!" yelled Delavane. "The phone! Get the

  phone! Tell whoever it is I'll be right there!" The old

  soldier began crawling pathetically toward the desk.

  "Just one minute, please," said the adjutant into

  the phone. "The general will be with you in a

  moment." The lieutenant colonel placed the

  telephone on the desk and ran first to the chair and

  then to Delavane. "Please, sir, let me help

  you.

  With a look of loathing on his face, the half-man

  permitted himself to be maneuvered back into the

  wheelchair. He propelled himself forward and took

  the phone. "Palo Alto International. You're red!

  What is the day's code?"

  554 ROflERT LUDIUM

  "Charing Cross" was the reply in a clipped British

  accent.

  "What is it, England?"

  Radio relay from Osnabruck. We ve got him.

  Chaim Abrahms sat in his kitchen, tapping his

  fingers on the table, trying to take his eyes off the

  telephone and the clock on the wall. It was the

  fourth time span, and still there was no word from

  New York. The orders had been clear: the calls were

  to be placed within thirty-minute periods every six

  hours commencing twenty-four hours ago, the

  estimated arrival time of the plane from Amsterdam.

  Twenty-four hours and nothing! The first omission

  had not troubled him; rarely were transatlantic

  flights on schedule. The second he had rationalized;

  if the woman was in transit, traveling somewhere

  else either in a car or by plane, the surveillance

  might
find itself in a difficult position to place an

  overseas call to Israel The third omission was

  unacceptable, this fourth lapse intoler able! It was

  nearly the end of the thirty-minute span, six minutes

  to go. When in the name of God would it ring?

  It rang. Abrahms leaped from the chair and picked

  it up.

  "We lost her" was the flat statement.

  "You what?"

  "She took a taxi to LaGuardia Airport and

  bought a ticket for a morning Hight to Boston. Then

  she checked into a motel and must have left minutes

  later."

  "Where were our people?"

  "One parked in a car outside, the other in a

  room down the hall. There was no reason to suspect

  she would leave. She had a ticket to Boston."

  "Idiots! Garbage!"

  "They will be disciplined. Our men in Boston

  have checked every Hight, every train. She hasn't

  shown up."

  "What makes you think she wills"

  "The ticket. There was nothing else."

  Imbeciles!"

  Valerie had finished; there was nothing more to

  say. She looked at Sam Abbott, who seemed far

  older than he had been an hour ago.

  "There are so many questions," said the brigadier

  general. "So much I want to ask Joel. The lousy

  thing is I'm not qual

  THE AQUITAINE PROGRESSION 555

  ified, but I know someone who is. I'll talk to him

  tonight, and tomorrow the three of us will fly to

  Washington. Like today, I have an early A.M.

  squadron run, but I'll be finished by ten. I'll take the

  rest of the day off one of the kids is sick, but noth-

  ing serious, nothing out of the ordinary. Alan will

  know whom we should go to, whom we can trust."

  "Can you trust him?"

  "Metcalf? With my life."

  '~Joel says you're to be careful. He warns you

  that they can be anywhere where you least expect

  them."

  "But somewhere there's got to be a list. Somewhere."

  "Delavane? San Francisco?"

  "Probably not. It's too simple, too dangerous. It's

  the first place anyone would look; he'd consider

  that.... This countdown Joel thinks it's tied into

  massive riots taking place in different cities, various

  capitals?"

  "On a vast scale, larger and more violent than

  anything we can imagine. Eruptions, total

  destabilisation, spreading from one place to another,

  fueled by the same people who are called in to

  restore order."

  Abbott shook his head. "It doesn't sound right.

  It's too complicated, and there are too many built-in

  controls. Police troops from the National Guardi

  they have separate commands. The chain would

  break somewhere."

  "It's what he believes. He says they could do it.

  He's convinced they have warehouses everywhere

  stocked with weapons and explosives, even armored

  vehicles and conceivably planes in out-of-the-way

  airfields."

  "Val, that's craz~sorry, wrong word. The logistics

  are simply too overwhelming."

  "Newark, Watts, Miami. They were also

  overwhelming."

  "They were different. They were essentially racial

  and economic."

  "The cities burned, Sam. People were killed and

  order came with guns. Suppose there were more

  guns than either of us could count? On both sides.

  Just like what's happening in Northern Ireland right

  now."

  "Ireland? The slaughter in Belfast? It's a war no

  one can stop."

  "It's their war! They did it! Joel called it a test, a trial

  run!"

  "It's wild," said the pilot.

  "'Accumulation, rapid acceleration.' Those were

  the words Abrahms used in Bonn. Joel tried to

  figure them out.

  556 ROBERT EUDLUM

  He couldn't buy LeifLelm's statement that they

  referred to blackmail or extortion. It wouldn't work,

  he said."

  "Extortion?" Abbott frowned. "I don't remember

  your mentioning that."

  '1 probably didn't because Joel discounted it.

  Leifhelm asked him what he thought about powerful

  figures in various governments being compromised,

  and Joel said it wouldn't work. The cleansing

  process was too certain, the reactions too quick."

  "Compromised?" Sam Abbott leaned forward in

  the booth. "Com promised, Val?"

  "Yes. "

  "Oh, my God."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Mean? . . . Meaning, that's what I mean.

  'Compromised' has more than one meaning. Like

  'neutralise' end 'take out,' and probably a dozen

  others I don't know about."

  "You're beyond me, Sam."

  "In one context, the word 'compromise' means

  killing Pure and simple murder. Assassination."

  Valerie checked into the MGM-Grand Hotel

  giving the bewildered clerk three days' advance

  payment for the room in lieu of a credit card. Key

  in hand, she took the elevator up to the ninth floor

  and let herself into a room with the kind of

  pleasantly garish opulence found only in Las Vegas.

  She stood briefly on the balcony, watching the

  orange setting sun thinking about the insanity of

  everything. She would call Joei first thing in the

  morning noon or thereabouts in Osnabruck, West

  Germany.

  She ordered from room service, ate what she

  could, watched an hour or so of mind-numbing

  television, and finally lay down on the bed. She had

  been right about Sam Abbott. Dear Sam,

  straight-as-the-proverbial-arrow Sam, direct and

  uncomplicated. If anyone would know what to do,

  Sam would and if he did not know, he would find

  out. For the first time in days, Val felt a degree of

  relief. Sleep came, and this time there were no

  horrible dreams.

  She awoke to the sight of the early sun firing the

  mountains beyond the balcony doors in the distance.

  For a moment or two while she emerged through

  the layers of vanishing sleep she thought she was

  back at Cape Ann, the sunlight streaming into her

  bedroom from the balcony outside, and

  THE AQUITAINE PROGRESSION 557

  vaguely recalled a distant nightmare. Then the bold

  floral drapes came into focus, and then the faraway

  mountains and the slightly stale odor of thick hotel

  carpeting, and she knew the nightmare was very

  much with her.

  She got out of the oversized bed, and navigated

  to the bathroom, stopping on the way to switch on

  the radio. She reached the door and suddenly

  stopped, gripping its edge to brace herself, her head

  detonating with a thousand explosions, her eyes and

  throat on fire.

  She could only scream. And scream again and

  again as she fell to the floor.

  Peter Stone turned up the radio in the New York

  apartment, then walked quickly to the table where

  there was an open telephone directory, the pages

  blue, the book itself having been taken from "Mrs
.

  DePinna's" room in the St. Regis Hotel. Stone

  listened to the news report as he scanned the op-

  posing blue pages of government listings.

  ". . . It has now been confirmed that the earlier

  reports of the crash of an F-18 jetfighterplane at Nellis

  Air Force Base in Nevada are accurate. The accident

  took place this morning at seven-forty-two, Pacific time,

  during first-light maneuvers over the desert thirty-eight

  miles northwest of the Nellisfield. The pilot, Brigadier

  General Samuel Abbott, was chief of Tactical

  Operations and considered one of the finest pilots in the

  Air Force as well as a su perb aerial tactician. The

  press of dicer at Nellis said a full inquiry will be

  launched, but stated that according to the other pilots

  the lead plane of the squadron, }-town by General

  Abbott, plunged to the ground afterexecuffng a relatively

  low-altitude maneuver. The explosion could be heard as

  far away as Las Vegas. The press ofticer's remarks were

  charged with emotion as he described the downed pilot.

  'The death of General Abbott is a tragic loss for the A

  ir Force and the nation, 'he told re porters. A few min-

  utes ago the President . . ."

  "That's it," said Stone, turning to the Army

  captain across the room. "That's where she was

  heading.... Shut that damn thing off, will you? I knew

  Abbott; I worked with him out of Langley a couple