The Aquaintaine Progession

by Ludlum, Robert

  Joel accepted the rebuke, not merely because itwas justified, but because it made clear a largertruth, one he had not understood on Mykonos. Bealehad told him that among those raising questions inWashington were military men who for one reasonor another had not pursued their inquiries; they hadkept silent. They had kept silent where they might beoverheard, perhaps, but they had not totally kepttheir silence. They had talked in quiet voices untilanother quiet voice from San Francisco a man whoknew whom to reach courtesy of a brother-in-law inSan Diego made contact. They had talked together,and out of their secret conversations had come aplan. They needed an infiltrator, a man with theexpertise 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 evenfault the silence that remained after PrestonHalliday’s murder; loud accusing voices would haverendered that death meaningless. Instead, they hadstayed quiet, knowing that their puppet had the toolsto make his way through the maze of illegalities anddo the job they could not do themselves. Heunderstood that, too. But there was one thingConverse could not accept, and that was his ownexpendability as the puppet. He had tolerated beingleft unprotected under the conditions outlined byAvery Fowler-Preston Halliday, not under these. Ifhe was on a string, he wanted the puppeteers toknow he knew it. He also wanted the name ofsomeone in Bonn he could call, someone who was apart of them. The old rules did not apply any longer,a new dimension had been added.

  In four hours he would be driven through theiron gates of Erich Leifhelm’s estate; he wantedsomeone on the outside, a man Fitzpatrick couldreach if he did not come out by midnight. Thedemons were pressing hard, thought Joel. Still, he

  could not turn back. He was so close to trapping thewarlord of Saigon, so close to making up for somuch that had warped his life in ways no one wouldever understand…. No, not no one,’ he reflected.One person did, and she had said she could nothelp him any longer. Nor had it been fair anylonger to seek her help.

  “What’s your decision?” said Connal.

  “Decision?” asked Joel, startled.

  “You don’t have to go this afternoon. Throw itall back! This belongs Stateside with the FBI inconjunction with the Central Intelligence Agencyoverseas. I’m appalled they didn’t take that route.”

  Converse breathed the start of a reply, thenstopped. It had to be clear, not only to Fitzpatrickbut to himself. He thought he understood. He hadseen the look of profound panic in Avery Fowler’seyes Preston Halliday’s eyes and he had heard thecry in his voice. The lies were his strategy, but thelook and the cry were his innermost feelings.

  “Has it occurred to you, Commander, that theycan’t take that route? That, perhaps, we’re nottalking about men who can pick up a phone asyou 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 theback of their skulls? Let me add that I don’t thinkthey’re afraid for themselves any more than Ibelieve they chose the best man for the job, but I dothink they came to a persuasive conclusion. Theycouldn’t work from the inside because they didn’tknow whom they could trust.”

  “Christ, you’re a cold son of a bitch.”

  “Ice, Commander. We’re dealing with a paranoidfantasy called Aquitaine, and it’s controlled byproven, committed, highly intelligent andresourceful men, who if they achieve what they’veset out to do will appear as the voices of strengthand reason in a world gone mad. They’ll controlthat world our world because all other optionswill pale beside their stability. Stability, counselor, asopposed to chaos. What would you choose if youwere an everyday nine-to-fiver with a wife and kids,and you could never be sure when you went homeat night whether or not your house had been brokeninto, your wife raped, your kids strangled? You’dopt for tanks in the street.”

  “With justification,” said the Navy lawyer, thetwo words spiraling quietly off into the air of thesunlit room.

  “Believe that, sailor. They’re banking on it, andthat’s just what they’re planning to do on aninternational scale. It’s only a few days or a fewweeks away whatever it is, wherever it is. If I canjust get an inkling . . .” Converse turned and startedfor the door of his bedroom.

  “Where are you going?” asked Connal.

  "Beale’s telephone number on Mykonos; it’s inmy briefcase. He’s my only contact and I want to talkto him. I want him to know the puppet has just beengranted some unexpected free will.”

  Three minutes later Joel stood at the table, thephone to his ear as the Greek operator in Athensrouted his call to the island of Mykonos. Fitzpatricksat on the couch, Chaim Abrahms’ dossier in front ofhim on the coffee table, his eyes on Converse.

  “Are you getting through all right?” asked theNavy lawyer.

  “It’s ringing now.” The erratic, stabbing signalskept repeating four, five, six times. On the sevenththe 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 meplease!” Joel turned to Fitzpatrick. “Do you speakGreekP”

  “No, but I’ve been thinking about taking it up.”

  “You do that.” Converse listened again to themale voice in Mykonos. Greek phrases were spokenrapidly, none comprehensible. “Thank youtGood-bye.” Joel tapped the telephone bar severaltimes, hoping the overseas line was still open and theEnglish-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 downon the table for the instructions Preston Halliday hadgiven him in Geneva. “It’s the Bank of Rhodes. Thenumber is . . .”

  Moments later the waterfront banker, KostasLaskaris, was on the line. “Herete.”

  “Mr. Laskaris, this is Joel Converse. Do youremember me?”

  “Of course…. Mr. Converse?” The bankersounded distant, somehow strange, as if wary orbewildered.

  “I’ve been trying to call Dr. Beale at the number you

  gave me, but all I get is a man who can’t speakEnglish. I wondered if you could tell me whereBeale is.”

  A quiet expulsion of breath could be heard overthe phone. “I wondered,” said Laskaris quietly. “Theman you reached was a police officer, Mr. Converse.I had him placed there myself. A scholar has manyvaluable things.”

  “Why? What do you mean?”

  “Shortly after sunrise this morning Dr. Bealetook his boat out of the harbor, accompanied byanother man. Several fishermen saw them. Twohours ago Dr. Beale’s boat was found crashed onthe rocks beyond the Stephanos. There was no oneon board.”

  I killed him. With a scaling knife dropping hisbody over a cluster of sharks beyond the shoals of theStephanos.

  Joel hung up the phone. Halliday, Anstett,Beale, all of them gone all his contacts dead. Hewas a puppet on the loose, his strings gone haywire,leading only to shadows.

  Erich Leifhelm’s warlike skin paled further ashis eyes narrowed and his starched white lipsparted. Then blood rushed to his head as he satforward at the desk in his library and spoke into thetelephone. “What was that name again, London?”

  “Admiral Hickman. He’s the “

  “No,” interrupted the German sharply. “Theother one! The officer who has refused to releasethe information.”

  “Fitzpatrick, an Irish name. He’s the rankinglegal 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 inBonn!”

  “Are you mad? No, of course, you’re not. Areyou certain ?”

  “He’s with Converse! I spoke to him myself. Thetwo are registered in his name
at Das Rektorat! Heis how we found Converse!”

  "There was no attempt to conceal the name?”

  “On the contrary, he used his papers to gainentrance!”

  “How bloody third-rate,” said London,bewildered. “Or how downright sure of himself,”added the Britisher, his tone changing. “A signal? Noone dares touch him?”

  “Unsinn!It’s not so.”

  “Why not?”

  “He spoke to Peregrine, the ambassador. Ourman was there. Peregrine wanted to take him,wanted him brought forcibly to the embassy. Therewere complications; he got away.”

  “Our man wasn’t very good, then.”

  “An obstruction. Some Schauspieler an actor.Peregrine will not discuss the incident. He saysnothing.”

  “Which means no one will touch his naval officerfrom California,” concluded London. “There’s a verygood 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 ofinformation. I agreed with Palo Alto, who alsoagrees with our specialist in the Mossad withAbrahms, as well.”

  “The Jew? What does the Jew say? What does hesay?”

  “He claims this Converse is an agent flying blindout of Washington.”

  “What more do you need ?”

  “He is not to leave your house. Instructions willfollow.”

  Stunned, Undersecretary of State BrewsterTolland hung up the phone, sank back in his chair,then shot forward and pressed the appropriatebuttons on his console.

  “Chesapeake,” said the female voice. “Code, please?”

  “Six thousand,” said Tolland. “May I speak withConsular Operations, Station Eight, please?”

  “Station Eight requires “

  “Plantagenet,” interrupted the Undersecretary.

  “Right away, sir.”

  “What is it, Six thousand?”

  "Cut the horseshit, Harry, this is Brew. Whathave you got running in Bonn we don’t knowabout?”

  “Off the top of my head, nothing.”

  “How far off the top is that?”

  “No, it’s straight. You’re current on everythingwe’re doing. There was an FRG review yesterdaymorning, and I’d remember if there was anythingthat 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 tokeep you out, you know that. What’s yourproblem?”

  “I just got off the scrambler with a very angryambassador, who may just call a very old friend atSixteen Hundred.”

  “Peregrine? What’s his problem?”

  “If it’s not you, then someone’s playing Cons Op.It’s supposedly a covert investigation of theembassy his embassy somehow connected withthe Navy Department.”

  “The Navy? That’s crazy I mean dumb crazylBonn’s a port?”

  “Actually, I suppose it is.”

  “I never heard of the Bismarek or the Graf Speesteaming around the Rhine. No way, Brew. Wedon’t have anything like that and we wouldn’t have.Do you have any names?”

  “Yes, one,” replied Tolland, looking down at apad with hastily scribbled notes on it. “An attorneynamed Joel Converse. Who is he, Harry?”

  “For Christ’s sake, I never heard of him. What’sthe naval angle?”

  “Someone who claims to be the chief legalofficer of a major Navy base with the rank oflieutenant commander.”

  “Claims to be?”

  “Well, before that he passed himself off as amilitary attache working at the embassy.”

  “Somewhere the inmates broke out of a home.”

  “This isn’t funny, Harry. Peregrine s no fool. Hemay be a vanity appointment, but he’s damned goodand he’s damned smart. He says these people aren’tonly real but may know something he doesn’t.”

  “What does he base that on?”

  “First, the opinion of a man who’s met thisConverse “

  “Who?” interrupted Harry of Station Eight

  “He won’t say, just that he trusts him, trusts hisjudgment. This person with no name says Converseis a highly qualified, very troubled man, not a blackhat.”

  “A what?”

  “That was the term Peregrine used. Obviouslysomeone who’s okay. "

  “What else?”

  “What Peregrine calls isolated odd behavior inhis personnel ranks. He wouldn’t elaborate; he sayshe’ll discuss it with the Secretary or Sixteen Hundredif I can’t satisfy him. He wants answers fast, and wedon’t want to rock the boat over there.”

  “I’ll try to help,” said Harry. “Maybe it’ssomething from Langley or Arlington the bastards!I can run a check on the Navy’s chief legals in anhour, and I’m sure the ABA can tell us whoConverse is if he is. At least narrow him down ifthere’s more than one.”

  “Get back to me. I haven’t got much time and wedon’t want the White House raising its voice.”

  “The last thing ever,” agreed the director ofConsular Operations, the State Department’s branchof foreign clandestine activities.

  “Try that on for legal size!” shouted RearAdmiral Hickman, standing by the window, angrilyaddressing a rigid pale-faced David Remington. ”Andtell me with as few goddamned details as possiblehow it fits!”

  “I find it impossible to believe, sir. I spoke withhim yesterday at noon and then again lastevening. He was in Sonoma!”

  “So did I, Lieutenant. And whenever there wasa scratching or an echo, what were the words? Allthat rain in the hills screwed up the telephone lines!”

  “Those were the words, sir.”

  “He passed through Dusseldorf immigration twodays ago! He’s now in Bonn, Germany, with a manhe swore to me had something to do with hisbrother-in-law’s death. The same man he’s protectingby putting a clamp on that flag. This Converse!”

  “I don’t know what to say, sir.”

  “Well, the State Department does and so do I.They’re pushing through that vet-delay or whateverthe hell you called it in your legalese.”

  “It’s vetted material, sir. It simply means “

  “I don’t want to hear, Lieutenant,” said Hickman,head

  ingback to his desk, adding under his breath. “Doyou know how much you bastards cost me for thetwo divorces?”

  “I beg your pardon, sir?”

  “Never mind. I want that flag released. I broughtFitz on board here. I gave him his striper and theson of a bitch lied to me. He not only lied, he did itten thousand miles away lying about where he waswhen he knew he shouldn’t be there without myauthorizationt He knew itl . . . Do you have anyobjections, Lieutenant? Something you can put intoa sentence or two that won’t require my bringing inthree other legals to translate?”

  Lieutenant Remington, one of the finest lawyersin the United States Navy, knew when to put theengines in reverse. Legal ethics had been violatedby misinformation, the course was clear. Aggressiveretreat with full boilers or nuclear power, hesupposed, although he did not really know. “I’llpersonally accelerate the vet-delay, Admiral. As theofficer responsible for the secondary CLO statute,I’ll make it clear that the direct order is now subjectto immediate cancellation. No such order can orshould originate under questionable circumstances.Legally “

  “That will be all, Lieutenant,” said the Admiral,cutting off his subordinate and sitting down.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “No, that isn’t allI” continued Hickman, abruptlyleaning forward. “How’s that transcript released,and how soon can you expect it?”

  “With State’s input it’ll only be a matter ofhours, sir, noon or shortly afterwards, I’d guess. Aclassified teletype will be sent to those requestingthe Hag. However, since SAND PAC has onlyplaced a restriction and not a request “

  “Request it, Lieutenant. Bring it up to me theminute it gets here and don’t leave the base until itdoes.”

  “Aye, aye, sirI”

  The deep-
red Mercedes limousine weaved downthe curving road inside the massive gates of ErichLeifhelm’s estate. The late-afternoon orange sunfiltered diagonally through the tall trees, which notonly bordered the road but were everywhere beyondon both sides. The drive might have been restfulhad it not been for a sight that made the wholescene grotesque: racing alongside the car were atleast a half-dozen giant Dobermans, not one ofthem making a

  sound. There was something unearthly about theirrunning furiously in silence, black eyes flashing up atthe windows, their jaws wide with rapid, erratic teethbared, but no sound emerging from their throats.Somehow Converse knew that if he stepped out ofthe car without the proper commands being issued,the powerful dogs would tear him to pieces.

  The limousine pulled into a long circular drivethat fronted wide brown marble steps leading to anarched doorway, the heavy panels covered with darkbas-relief a remnant of some ancient pillagedcathedral. Standing on the lower step was a man witha silver whistle raised to his lips. Again there was nosound a human could hear, but suddenly the animalsabandoned the car and ran to him, flanking him,facing forward on their haunches, jaws slack, bodiespulsating.

  “Please wait, sir,” said the chauffeur as heclimbed out and ran around to Joel’s door. “If youwill step out, please, and take two paces away fromthe car. Only two paces, sir.” The chauffeur now heldin his hand a black object with a rounded metal tubeextending from the front of the instrument, notunlike a miniaturised electric charcoal starter.

  “What’s that?” asked Converse.

  “Protection, sir. For you, sir. The dogs, sir. Theyare trained to sense heavy metal.”

  Joel stood there as the German moved theelectronic detector over his clothes, including hisshoes, his inner thighs and the back of his waist. “Doyou people really think I’d come out here with agun?”

  “I do not think, sir. I do as I am told.”

  "How original,” mumbled Converse as hewatched the man on the marble step raise the silverwhistle again to his lips. As one, the phalanx ofDobermans suddenly leaped forward. In panic, Joelgrabbed the chauffeur, spinning the German in frontof him. There was no resistance; the man simplyturned his head and grinned as the dogs veered tothe right and raced around the circular drive into theapproach road cut out of the forest.