by Tom Grace
A sour look crossed Gerty’s face, his lips pursing tightly beneath his mustache. ‘Yeah, I know who he works for. The CIA.’
‘That’s where my concern lies, Mr Gerty. I investigate cases of espionage committed within the United States.’
‘Is Cole spying for someone?’
‘He’s one of several suspects in an ongoing investigation.’
‘Damn, I hate traitors.’ Gerty’s disgust was genuine. ‘I thought they cleaned the last of those rotten bastards out a couple years ago.’
‘Unfortunately, no,which brings us back to my request. I need to know what you know about Michael Cole.’
Gerty considered her request carefully, and Roe could almost hear the debate raging in his head.
‘I am sorry,Agent Ford, but I can’t help you. The court ordered that everything I found out about Cole be turned over to him as part of the settlement.’
‘I appreciate your position, but let me try to explain mine to you.’ Roe took a slow deep breath and steeled herself. ‘I am investigating a matter of national security. You are in possession of information that I believe is vital to that investigation. If you do not provide this information to me, you will be guilty of obstruction of justice. In connection with an espionage investigation, such a charge would require jail time in a federal penitentiary. I will have your cooperation in this matter; it’s your choice whether your cooperation is granted voluntarily or under the threat of legal action.With one phone call, I can have a search warrant delivered here in twenty minutes. So, are you sure that you turned over everything from your investigation?’
Gerty swallowed hard, his poker face cracking. ‘But what if Cole’s not the one you’re after? The things I found out about him weren’t criminal, just something that neither of the Coles wants aired in public.’
‘I assure you that ifMichael Cole is cleared as a suspect, whatever I learn about his private life will never see the light of day.’
‘This goes against what I feel to be right, but I don’t see that I have much choice.’
Gerty unlocked a high five-drawer file cabinet and pulled out a thick file.
‘Mrs Cole’s attorney asked me to stash this away for her, as an insurance policy should her client ever need it.’
Roe opened the file and skimmed over the investigation report. Gerty’s prose was clear, precise, and unemotional; it read almost like a legal document, except for the clinical descriptions of the sexual acts Gerty had witnessed. Cole’s secret finally sank in when she reached the exhibits marked A through H. The photographs depicted Michael Cole engaged in a variety of homosexual acts.
‘So that’s what she had on him,’ she mumbled to herself, ignoring Gerty’s presence.
‘Yes, she nailed him to the wall. The bastard didn’t even use a condom. Good Lord, with AIDS and who knows what else running around out there, I figure this guy just took double portions of dumb when they passed out brains.’
Roe closed the file and softened her stern, authoritative stance with Gerty. ‘Thank you. This is an immense help to our investigation.’
Roe slipped the file into her briefcase.
‘Say, aren’t you supposed to leave a receipt for that?’
Whatever consideration Roe had shown Gerty a moment earlier was now replaced with a withering stare. ‘Only if I was officially here, which I am not. This conversation never took place, Mr Gerty.’
Gerty understood the implied threat in Roe’s tone and nodded in agreement.
‘You said it yourself, Mr Gerty: According to the terms of the Coles’ divorce settlement, all materials from your investigation were to be turned over to Michael Cole. Officially, this file doesn’t exist, so there’s nothing for me to sign for. Good day, Mr Gerty.’
Roe’s visit left the grizzled private investigator seated behind his desk, speechless.
8
NEAR THE SOUTHERN COAST OF HAITI
December 6
Kilkenny checked his dive watch and punched a button on the global positioning satellite receiver mounted into the curved console of the swimmer delivery vehicle. He matched up the longitude/latitude figure from the GPS with the nautical map that he’d memorized over the last few weeks, then verified that they were on target, on schedule.
After launching from the submarine USS Columbia, Kilkenny led the SEALs on a six-mile submerged approach to Haiti’s southern coast. When they reached the ditch point, the squad shut down the swimmer delivery vehicles and set them on the seafloor half a mile from shore and under enough water that only a major storm could disturb them.
The squad NCO, Chief Max Gates, unhooked the roll of camouflage netting from his SDV and began unfolding it. The other SEALs each grabbed an edge and pulled the fabric over the two SDVs and staked the corners into the seafloor. After a quick check on equipment and air, Kilkenny led the squad on a half-mile swim to the beach.
Once ashore, the SEALs stripped off their scuba gear, wrapped the equipment in weatherproof bags, and buried it. Kilkenny recorded the location of the buried gear from the GPS.
Each man then checked his equipment and provisions for this leg of the mission. The satchel charges and food were stowed in backpacks, while the weapons and ammunition were placed on each man, close at hand.
Black and green camouflage paint was applied to their faces, making them virtually invisible in the dense jungle foliage. The devils with green faces had arrived in Haiti.
Kilkenny then took the headset from his communications specialist and flipped the switch on the satellite transmitter.’Trident is feet-dry,’ he announced, informing the mission planners in Washington that they had arrived.
‘Message received, Trident,’ a distant voice responded. ‘Good hunting.’
9
CHICAGO, ILLINOIS
December 11
In light of Gerty’s report,Cole’s one-sided divorce settlement made complete sense. Roe had found his deepest secret and, after five days of trailing Cole in Chicago, she was now prepared to use it in exactly the way the government feared—as a means of manipulating an employee of the CIA. While Gerty’s report implied a certain level of promiscuity, Cole currently displayed no interest in any kind of social life. The divorce had left him emotionally, as well as financially, castrated. Cole lived a quiet, solitary existence that included few entertaining diversions.
The CIA rented an apartment for Cole a few blocks from Moy’s headquarters. While he was at work, Roe entered the unit and found it to be a great improvement over his Washington home. The apartment was bright, open, and equipped with tasteful rented furniture. On the kitchen counter were several travel brochures for the Caribbean islands. The brochures all described the warm climate, friendly natives, sunny beaches, and excellent scuba diving.
Cole’s been living like a monk since his divorce, Roe thought as she tried to get a sense of the man. Perhaps he’s planning a long vacation once his project is finished.
That evening, Roe followed Cole as he emerged from Moy Electronics onto the cold Chicago street. Since his apartment was within walking distance, Cole didn’t bother keeping a car. He didn’t cook much at home, either, as Roe discovered when she looked into a nearly empty refrigerator. The CIA probably had a meal per diem, which Cole would use in local restaurants. Tonight, he picked up a late edition of the Chicago Tribune and stopped in for a bite at McGregor’s Pub.
Roe waited about fifteen minutes before entering the bar. McGregor’s was a throwback to a different era—a dark old neighborhood public house, like those found in every little town in Ireland. Established in 1905, McGregor’s had weathered Prohibition, the Great Depression, and innumerable changes of time and fashion, yet it remained nearly untouched well into its third generation of ownership.The influx of young urban professionals had brought new economic vitality to the bar’s bottom line, but the owner obviously had no intention of upscaling his working-class bar by adding ferns or trendy beers.
She sat on a stool beside the massive oak and brass
bar that ran the length of the room. Steam rose from a pass-through window between the bar and the kitchen beyond; the scent of the grilled food filled the air. Roe ordered a draft beer and the fish and chips special. After looking over the bar, she located Cole tucked in a corner booth near the back.
Her food arrived quickly, the fish still sizzling from the deep fryer. Roe gathered up her dinner and utensils in one hand and her beer in the other and walked over to the booth. Cole was halfway through a Reuben sandwich, his face buried in the paper’s ‘Commentary’ section.
Roe summoned her most disarming smile. ‘I thought I saw a familiar face in here. Mind if I join you?’
‘I guess not,’ Cole replied, motioning to the bench opposite him as he folded his evening paper.The puzzled, blank look on Cole’s face told Roe that he didn’t quite remember her. ‘You’re doing that story on Moy, right?’
‘Yes, I’m Alex Roe, and don’t worry about forgetting my name. You can’t expect to remember everyone you meet.’
Cole looked visibly relieved at being let off the hook. ‘I admit, I’m awful with names. It takes me weeks before I get them straight.’
‘Now, Michael, if I’m going to join you for dinner, I do have one ground rule: no shoptalk. I deal with computers and technology and business all day long, so I don’t want to hear about anything along those lines. Is that all right?’
‘Fine. I can’t talk about work anyway. So what do you want to talk about?’
‘I don’t know,’ Roe mused. ‘Have you seen the new exhibit at the art museum, the Muromachi paintings from Japan?’
‘No, I’m not really big on art,’ Cole replied, ‘just movies, books, and sports. I did finally go out to Oak Park to see the Frank Lloyd Wright houses. I never understood why so many people raved about him until I saw his houses next to all those Victorians.’
‘So what do you think of him now?’
‘I guess I have to buy into the tour guide’s party line: Wright was an architectural genius. All the houses in that neighborhood were built about the same time, but only his still look innovative.’
‘From what I know about Wright, that was true throughout most of his career. You mentioned books,’ Roe said, changing the subject. ‘What are you reading these days?’
‘Would you believe a book about medieval France?’
Roe kept the conversation moving as they ate, bringing up light, unchallenging topics.Cole warmed up and actually seemed to appreciate the company. The waitress cleared away the plates and brought another round of drinks for them both—Roe’s treat.
Cole was in a receptive mood and it was time for Roe to make her pitch. ‘So, I hear that your project is winding down. Are you back to Washington after that?’
‘Eventually, but first I’m taking a much-needed vacation.’ Cole’s persona outside the office was much more relaxed, and a few beers did wonders at easing the tension. ‘My wife and I busted up right when this job with Moy started going hot and heavy, which was good, because it didn’t leave me much free time to wallow in self-pity. Now it’s time for me to get my head back together, so I’m taking all the vacation days I’ve built up and heading for the islands.’
‘Where about?’ Roe was playing the good listener, feeding Cole lines that would keep him talking.
‘All over, Grand Cayman, the Bahamas.’ Cole was very enthusiastic about his upcoming vacation. ‘I’m even going to the Dominican Republic. I’ve never been there before, but I hear the diving is fantastic.’
‘You’re a scuba diver, huh? I’ve done a little diving, but not as much as I’d like.’
‘There’s nothing like it.’Cole gushed with enthusiasm. ‘Shipwrecks are my personal favorite. I’ve been on some over four hundred years old. The sea life and scenery are unbelievable, too. There is nothing comparable to it on land. The only negative thing I can think about diving is that you have to come back up.’
‘That and the cost,’ Roe added.
‘Yeah, that and the cost,’ Cole agreed, ‘but you gotta have some fun in life. I have most of it saved up, but I’ll have to hit on my credit cards a little to get me over the top. It’s a bit of a financial stretch for me right now, but I have to take some time off.’
‘I hear you,’ Roe said with a sympathetic voice, ‘and I’d like to help you out.’
‘What do you mean?’Cole’s face suddenly looked tense and a little apprehensive as his mental defenses went up.
‘I’ll lay it all on the table.’ Roe was presenting her most honest, sincere self. ‘My presence here tonight is not an accident. I sought you out deliberately because I need your help, and I’m willing to pay you for your time and effort.’
‘Does this have something to do with that Moy article you’re writing?’ Cole asked suspiciously.
‘Yes and no. The article is finished. What I’m referring to is a project for a private client, one whose information needs are very specific. This client has asked for a look at his major competitor’s new product line before it hits the market.’
‘That competitor being Moy.’Cole was following Roe’s line of thought very carefully.
‘Yes. My client produces computer and electronics components that are compatible with Moy equipment, at a lower cost. Their problem is that the reverse engineering time increases with each product generation, leaving Moy with longer and longer monopolies over the market while my client plays catch-up.’
Cole shrugged his shoulders. ‘I don’t work for Moy. How could I possibly help you?’
Roe leaned close across the table. ‘You can get me into Moy’s computer network. Once inside, I’ll find what I’m looking for. I’m offering you fifty grand for a onetime use of your password.’
Cole blinked. He felt the adrenaline surge through his body while trying to remain outwardly calm. ‘That’s a lot of money for a password. Why don’t you just hack your way in?’
‘I could, but that takes time.’
‘This sounds too easy. I get a bunch of money to let you use my password. The upside is great, but the downside’s a bitch.’
‘Those are the inherent risks of the game. You don’t win big by hedging your bets.’
‘Up to now, all I’ve done is sit here and listen to your pitch. You approached me; I did nothing to initiate this conversation.What you’ve proposed amounts to a bribe, and my acceptance of that bribe would be unethical and illegal. As a government employee, it’s my duty to report this incident.’
‘But you won’t.’ Roe spoke with a bold certainty, as if she already knew the outcome.
‘What makes you say that?’ Cole replied, shocked by her confidence.
‘The money.’ Roe then pulled out a brown envelope from her soft-sided briefcase and placed it on the table in front of him. ‘My offer is very generous, and you need it.’
‘What? How would you know if I needed money?’
‘I checked you out very thoroughly, Michael. I’d be a fool not to know as much as I could about you before making an offer like this. I know all sorts of interesting things, including the real reason behind your divorce.’
Cole’s eyes lit up and a look of anger flashed across his face.He held his cool, but just barely, as Roe continued.
‘Approaching you, as you astutely pointed out, is a significant risk for me. I have a report from a certain private detective that minimizes that risk greatly.’
‘Let me see that,’ Cole growled as he pulled the envelope from under Roe’s hand.
Inside, he found a copy of the report that his ex-wife’s lawyer had used against him; the photographs, times, and dates were all there. Cole found he could no longer control his anger.
‘How the hell did you get this?’ he shouted angrily as he slammed the document onto the table. A few other patrons of the bar looked over at the disturbance.
‘Settle down and I’ll tell you.’
Cole eased back into his seat, still enraged by her revelation. Roe knew that she’d rattled him with the report. Cole was feeli
ng backed into a corner and now she would help him make the correct decision.
‘Your ex-wife’s lawyer had her detective retain it as an insurance policy. If I recall correctly, that’s a direct violation of your divorce agreement.’
The news infuriated Cole, who was now livid. ‘That bitch! I should have known I couldn’t trust her.’
‘Well, now you don’t have to worry about her.’ Roe spoke calmly and clearly. ‘I am the only person who can expose your secret. I don’t really care what you do in your private life, or with whom; that’s none of my concern. What I do care about are my clients.My offer still stands: You get me into Moy’s computer, and I’ll pay you fifty grand. Do we have a deal?’
‘What about this?’ Cole asked, pointing at the report.
‘I keep the originals until I feel that I can trust you. This report has no value to me other than to buy your silence; I have no interest in seeing your career destroyed.’
Cole’s anger eased a little, but he was still visibly upset.
‘Look, if I was a real bitch, I’d just blackmail you and save my money. No, I’m a businesswoman, and what I’m offering you is a win-win deal. I get the information I want and you get some badly needed cash. I saw your divorce settlement—you got burned.’
‘Got that right,’ Cole agreed bitterly.
‘Fine,’ Roe replied, attempting to channel Cole’s anger toward her goal. ‘Here’s a chance for you to get financially back on your feet. At fifty grand, I’m paying you more per word than Schwarzenegger gets in the movies.’
Cole’s focus slowly shifted toward Roe’s offer and the booth grew quiet as he weighed his decision.
‘All right, I’m in.’
Roe smiled at him warmly. ‘Do you have a dedicated data line into Moy?’
‘Yeah. The project I’m on has a tight schedule, so I log a lot of system time in the off-hours.’
‘Then it won’t be unusual for you to log in on a Friday night. Is tonight a problem for you?’
‘No, I don’t have any plans. What about the money?’