The Aquaintaine Progession

by Ludlum, Robert

  “No. Like Topsy, they’re just there. Beale said anumber of them are probably mistakes, but othersaren’t; they have to be linked to Delavane.”

  “They had to be supplied by someone too. Therehad to be reasons why they were listed.”

  “Beale called them "decision makerst in militaryprocurements.”

  “Then I have to see them. I’ve dealt with thosepeople.”

  “Yes. Not very often, but enough to know my wayaround.”

  “Why you?”

  “Basically translating legal nuances from languageto language where Navy tech was involved. I think Imentioned that I speak “

  “You did,” Joel broke in.

  “Goddamn itl” cried Fitzpatrick, crushing hisnapkin in a fist.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “Press knew I had dealings with those committees,with the technology and armaments boys! He evenasked me about them. Who I saw, who I liked whoI trusted. Jesus! Why didn’t he come to me? Of allthe people he knew, I was the logical onel I’m downthe pike and his closest friend.”

  “That’s why he didn’t come to you,” said Converse.

  “Stupid bastard!” Connal raised his eyes. “AndI hope you hear that, Press. You might still bearound to see Connal Two win the Bay Regatta.”

  “I think you really believe he might hear you.”

  Fitzpatrick looked across the table at Joel. “Yes,I do. You see, I believe, counselor. I know all thereasons why I shouldn’t Press enumerated them toa fare-thee-well when we were in our cups but Ibelieve. I answered him once with a quote from oneof his laid-back Protestant forebears.”

  “What was that?” asked Joel, smiling kindly.

  “"There’s more faith in honest doubt than is heldby all the archangels in the mind of God.’”

  “It’s very nice. I’ve never heard it before.”

  “Maybe I didn’t get it right…. Joel, I’ve got tosee those namest”

  “And I have to get my attache case, but I can’t gomyself.”

  “Then I’m elected,” said the Navy man. “Do youthink Leifhelm’s right? You think he can really calloff Interpol?”

  “I’m of two thoughts about it. For my immediatemaneuverability I hope he can. But if he does, it’llscare the hell out of me.”

  “I’m on your side about that,” agreed Connal,getting out of the chair. “I’ll call the desk and get ataxi. Give me the key to the locker.”

  Converse reached into his pocket and pulled outthe small, rounded key. “Leifhelm’s seen you. Hecould have you followed; he did before.”

  “I’ll be ten times more careful. If I see the samepair of headlights twice, I’ll go to a Bierkeller. Iknow a few here.”

  Joel looked at his watch. “It’s twenty minutes toten. Do you think you could swing around to theuniversity first?”

  “Dowling?”

  “He said he had someone he wanted me tomeet. Just walk by him or them and sayeverything’s under control, nothing else. I owe himthat much.”

  “Suppose he tries to stop me?”

  “Then pull out your ID and say it’s high priority,or ultrasecret, or whatever bullshit security phrasesthat come to that very inventive mind of yours.”

  “Do I sense a touch of legal envy?”

  “No, just recognition. I know where you’recoming from. I,ve been there.”

  * * *

  Fitzpatrick walked slowly along the wide path onthe south facade of the immense university building,once the great palace of the all-powerful archbishopsof Cologne. The unimpeded moonlight swelled overthe area, reflecting off the myriad rows of cathedralwindows and lending a luminous dimension to thelight stone walls of the majestic structure. Beyondthe path the winding gardens of August possessed aneerie elegance circles of sleeping flowers, theirbeauty heightened by the moonlight. Connal was sostruck by the tranquil loveliness of the nocturnalsetting that he nearly forgot why he was there.

  The reason was brought sharply back into focuswhen he saw a slender figure slouched alone on abench. The man’s legs were extended and crossed atthe ankles, his head covered by a soft cloth hat, butnot sufficiently to hide the flowing gray-blond hairthat protruded slightly over his temples and the backof his neck. So this Caleb Dowling was an actor,thought the Navy lawyer, amused by the fact thatDowling had feigned shock when he realized Connaldid not recognize him. But then, neither hadConverse; they were obviously a minority in a worldof television addicts. A college professor who hadfulfilled the fantasies of youth, a risk-taker, accordingto Joel, who had won a battle against astronomicalodds, was a nice thing to think about; the only sadnote was the haunted life of his wife, whom he loveddearly. Also, a marine who had fought in the bloodymess that was Kwajalein was a man to be reckonedwith.

  Fitzpatrick walked over to the bench and satdown several feet away from Dowling. The actorglanced at him, then did a perfectly natural doubletake, his head snapping. “You9″

  “I’m sorry about last night,” said Connal. “Igather I wasn’t very convincing.”

  “You lacked a certain finish, young fella. Wherethe hell is Converse?”

  “Sorry again. He couldn’t make it, but not toworry. Everything’s A-okay and under control.”

  “Whose okay and whose control?” countered theactor, annoyed. “I told Joel to come here, not acub-scout interlocutor.”

  “I resent that. I’m a lieutenant commander in theUnited States Navy and the chief legal officer at amajor naval base. Mr. Converse accepted anassignment from us which has an

  element of personal risk for him and the highestpriority of classification for us. Back off, Mr.Dowling. We appreciate and I speak for Converseas well as myself your interest and your generosity,but it’s time for you to recede. For your ownbenefit, incidentally.”

  “What about Interpol? He killed a man.”

  “Who tried to kill him, ” added Fitzpatrickquickly, a lawyer rejoining a negative statement bya witness on the stand. “That will be clarifiedinternally and the charges dropped.”

  “You’re pretty smooth, Commander,” saidDowling, sitting up. “Better than you were lastnight this morning, actually.”

  “I was upset. I’d lost him and I had to find him.I had to deliver vital information.”

  The actor now crossed his legs at the knees andleaned back, his arm slung casually over the slattedrim of the bench. “So this thing Converse and youare involved with is a real hush-hush operation?”

  “It’s highly classified, yes.”

  “And you and he being lawyers, it’s gotsomething to do with legal irregularities over herethat somehow reach into the military, is that right?”

  “In the broadest sense, again yes. I’m afraid Ican’t be any more specific. Converse mentioned thatthere was someone you wanted him to meet.”

  “Yes, there is. I said a couple of harsh thingsabout him, but I take them back; he was doing histhing. He didn’t know who the hell I was any morethan you did. He’s one smart man, tough but fair.”

  “I hope you understand that under thecircumstances Converse can’t comply with yourrequest.”

  “You’ll do,” said Dowling calmly, removing hisarm from the back of the bench.

  Connal was suddenly alarmed. There wasmovement behind him in the shadowed moonlight;he whipped his head around, peering over hisshoulder. Out of the protective darkness of thebuilding from within the pitch-black cover of adoorway the figure of a man began walking acrossthe dark green lawn. An arm thrown casually overthe rim of the bench, then just as casually removed.Both movements had been signals” Identityconfirmed; move in.

  “What the hell have you done?” asked the Navylawyer harshly.

  “Bringing you two bucks to your senses,” repliedDowling. ".If my celebrated instincts are valid, I didthe right thing. If they’re wrong, I still did the rightthing.,’

  “W7lat?”

  The man crossing the lawn entered the spill ofclear moonlight. He was heavyset and wore a darksuit and tie; his scowling, late-middle-aged face andstraight
grey hair gave him the air of a prosperousbusinessman. It was clear that at the moment he wasintensely angry.

  Dowling spoke as he got up from the bench.“Commander, may I introduce the Honorable WalterPeregrine, United States ambassador to the FederalRepublic of Cermany.”

  Lieutenant David Remington wiped hissteel-rimmed glasses with a silicone-treated tissue,then threw the tissue into a wastebasket and got upfrom his desk. Returning the glasses to his face, hewalked to a mirror secured to the back of his officedoor and checked his appearance. He smoothed hishair, shoved the knot of his tie in place, and lookeddown at the failing crease of his trousers. All thingsconsidered it was 1730 hours and he had beenharassed at his desk since 0800 in the morning,including that crazy Four Zero emergency fromFitzpatrick he looked quite presentable. Andanyway, Rear Admiral Hickman was not a sticklerfor spit and polish where the desk corps wasconcerned. He knew damn well that most of thelegal execs would bolt in a minute for much higherpaying jobs in the civilian sector if the dress andother disposable codes were taken too seriously.Well, David Remington wouldn’t. Where the hellelse could a man travel all over the world, housing awife and three kids in some of the nicest quartersimaginable, with all the medical and dental bills paidfor, and not have the terrible pressures of rising inprivate or corporate practice. His father had been anattorney for one of the biggest insurance companiesin Hartford Connecticut, and his father had hadulcers at forty-three, a nervous breakdown atforty-eight, his first stroke at fifty-one, and a final,massive coronary at fifty-six; everyone had said hewas so terrific at his job he might even be in line forthe presidency. But then, people always said thingslike that when a man died in the line of corporateduty which men did too goddamned frequently.

  None of that for David Remington, no sir! Hewas simply going to be one of the best lawyers in theU.S. Navy, serve

  his thirty years, get out at fifty-five with a generouspension, and become a well-paid legal-militaryconsultant at fifty-six. At the precise age when hisfather died, he would start living very nicely, indeed.It was simply a matter of building a reputation as aman who knew more about naval and maritimelaw and who stuck to it than any other lawyer inthe Navy. If he stepped on toes in his performance,so be it; it could only enhance that reputation. Hedidn’t give a damn about being popular; he caredonly about being right. And he never made adecision until he was certain of its correct legalposition. Consultants like that were prizedcommodities in civilian practice.

  Remington wondered why Admiral Hickmanwanted to see him, especially at this hour whenmost of the desk corps had gone for the day. Therewas a court-martial pending that could become asensitive issue. A black officer, an Annapolisgraduate, had been caught selling cocaine off adestroyer berthed in the Philippines; that wasprobably it. Remington had pre-prepared the casefor the judge advocate, who frankly did not care toprosecute; the amount was not that large, andothers were certainly selling far more, and theywere probably white. That was not the point,Remington had insisted. If there were others, theyhad not been caught, if there was evidence, it hadnot been found. The law was color-blind.

  He would say the same thing to Hickman. The“stickler prick,” a derisive nickname Remingtonknew was used behind his back, would stand firm.Well, at fifty-six the age at which his father hadbeen killed by company policy a stickler prickwould have all the comforts of an exclusive countryclub without paying the corporate price. LieutenantRemington opened the door, walked out into thegrey hallway, and started for the elevator that wouldtake him to the office of the highest ranking man atthe San Diego naval base.

  “Sit down, Remington,” said Rear Admiral BrianHickman, shaking the lieutenant’s hand andindicating a chair in front of the large desk. “I don’tknow about you, but this has been what I used tocall at your age one fucked-up day. Sometimes Iwish Congress wouldn’t appropriate so damn muchmoney down here. Everyone gets on such a highyou’d think they’d smoked everything in Tijuana.They forget they’re supposed to have architectsbefore they start bribing the contractors.”

  “Yes, sir, I know what you mean, sir,” saidRemington sithng down with proper deference asHickman stood several feet to his left. The merereference to Tijuana and drugs confirmed hissuspicions; the admiral was about to launch into theeverybody-does-it routine, which would lead to “Whyshould the Navy stir up a racial controversy withsomething that took place in the Philippines?” Well,he was prepared. The law naval law wascolor-blind.

  “I m going to have a well-deserved drink,Lieutenant,” said Hickman, heading for a copper drybar against the wall. “Can I get you something?”

  “No, thank you, sir. "

  “Hey, look, Remington, I appreciate your stayinglate for this conference, I guess you’d call it, but Idon’t expect any version of corporate militarybehavior. Frankly, I’d feel foolish drinking by myself,and what we’ve got to talk about isn’t so almightyimportant. I just want to ask you a couple of ques-trons.

  “Corporate behavior, sir? I’ll have some whitewine, if you have it, sir.”

  “I always have it,” said the admiral withresignation. “It’s usually for personnel who are aboutto get divorced.”

  “I’m happily married, sir.”

  “Glad to hear it. I’m on my third wife shouldhave stuck with the first.”

  The drinks poured, the seating arrangements inorder Hickman spoke from behind the desk, his tieloosened, his voice casual. But what he said evokedanything but casualness in David Remington.

  “Who the hell is Joel Converse?” asked the admiral.

  “I beg your pardon, sir?”

  The admiral sighed, the sound indicating that hewould begin again. “At twelve hundred hourstwenty-one minutes today, you placed a CLOnegative on ail inquiries regarding a flag on oneLieutenant Joel Converse’s service record. He was apilot in the Vietnam action.”

  “I know what he was, sir,” said Remington.

  “And at fifteen hundred hours, two minutes,”continued Hickman, looking at a note on his desk. “Iget a teletype from the Fifth Naval Districtrequesting that the flag be removed in their favorand the material released immediately. The basis fortheir request was as it always is national security.”The admiral paused to sip his drink; he appeared tobe in no

  hurry, simply weary. “I ordered my adjutant to callyou and ask why you did it.”

  “And I answered him completely, sir,”Remington broke in. “It was at the instructions ofthe chief legal officer SAND PAC, and I cited thespecific regulation that states clearly that the CLOof a naval base can withhold files on the basis thathis own inquiries can be compromised by theentrance of a third party. It’s standard in civil law,sir. The Federal Bureau of Investigation rarely givesa local or metropolitan police force the informationit’s collected in an investigation for the simplereason that the investigation could be compromisedby leaks or corrupt practices.”

  “And our chief legal officer, LieutenantCommander Fitzpatrick, is currently carrying out aninvestigation of an officer who left the serviceeighteen years ago?”

  “I don’t know, sir,” said Remington, his eyesnoncommittal. “I only know those were his orders.They’re in force for seventy-two hours. After that,you, of course, can sign the order of release. Andthe President, naturally, can do so anytime in anational emergency.”

  “I thought it was forty-eight hours,” said Hickman.

  “No, sir. The forty-eight hours is standard withthe release of every flag regardless of who asks forit except, of course the President. It’s called thevet delay. Naval intelligence cross-checks with theCIA, the NSA, and G-Two to make sure there’s nomaterial being released that’s still considered classi-fied. That procedure has nothing to do with theprerogatives of a chief legal officer.”.”

  “You know your law, don’t you?”

  “I believe as well as any attorney in the UnitedStates Navy, sir.”

  “I seed’ The admiral leaned back in hisupholstered swivel chair and placed his legs on thecorner of the desk. “Commander Fitzpatrick s offthe
base, isn’t he? Emergency leave, if I recall.”

  “Yes, sir. He’s in San Francisco with his sisterand her children. Her husband was killed in arobbery in Geneva, the funeral’s tomorrow morning,I believe.”

  “Yes, I read about it. Goddamned lousy…. Butyou know where to reach him.”

  “I have the telephone number, yes, sir. Do youwant me to call him, Admiral? Apprise him of theFifth Naval request.”

  ^’No, no,” said Hickman, shaking his head. “Not ata time

  like this. They can dry their mops at least untiltomorrow afternoon. I’ve got to assume they alsoknow the regulations if security’s so damnedjeopardised, know where the Pentagon is and thelatest rumor out of Arlington is that they found outwhere the White House is.” The Admiral stopped,frowned, and looked over at the lieutenant. "Sumpose you didn’t

  ..But I do sirn,,ow where to reach Fitzpatrick?,

  “Yes, but suppose you didn’t? And a legitimaterequest was received below presidentialinvolvement, but still pretty damned urgent youcould release that flag, couldn’t you?

  “Theoretically, as next in authority, yes I could.As long as I accepted the legal responsibility for myjudgment.”

  “The what?”

  “That I believed the request was sufficientlyurgent to override the chief legal odficer’s priororder, which granted him seventy-two hours forwhatever action he deemed necessary. He wasadamant, sir. Frankly, short of presidential inter-venhon, I’m legally bound to uphold the CLO’sprivilege.”

  " I’d say morally) too,” agreed Hickman.

  “Morality has nothing to do with it, sir. It’s aclear legal position. Now, shall I make that call,Admiral?”

  "No, the hell with it.” Hickman removed his feetfrom the desk. “I was just curious and, frankly, you’veconvinced me. Fitz wouldn’t have given you the orderunless he had a reason. The Fifth D can wait threedays, unless those boys want to run up telephonebills to Washington.”

  “May I ask, sir, who specifically made the request?”

  The admiral looked pointedly at Remington. “I’lltell you in three days. You see, I’ve got a man’sprivilege to uphold too. You’ll know then anyway,because in Fitz’s absence you’ll have to countersignthe transfer.” Hickman finished his drink and thelieutenant understood. The conference was over.