Bannerman's Ghosts

by John R. Maxim

  Bannerman told her that it took Kessler a month, but with help he caught up with Savran Bobik. Netanya’s people and Kessler questioned him for three days. Bobik told them that those outbreaks were indeed caused by VaalChem. They’d plant a little glass container where some villager would find it and open it, maybe taste it or sniff it. They were using the Angolans as lab rats.

  “Bio-weapons?” asked Elizabeth. But she asked it almost absently. He felt sure that in her mind she was envisioning Kessler looking down at the head of Sara Gleissman. Bannerman himself had imagined the fury that must have erupted within him.

  Bannerman cleared his throat. He said, “Let me go on. Bobik had an arms shipment…not bio…conventional…that was destined for Sierra Leone. It was one of many things that Bobik gave up in the hope of saving his life. I’ll get to its significance; bear with me. Netanya’s people, led by Kessler, staged a raid on VaalChem’s offices. They brought Bobik’s head with them. It loosened some lips. When Kessler was finished, he took two more heads.”

  Elizabeth blinked. “This was Martin? You’re sure?”

  “His…natural good humor has deserted him some time ago. Stop me now if you don’t want to hear this.”

  “No, I want to.”

  “If it eases your mind any, they were already dead. Netanya says Kessler shot both of them first. I mean, it’s not as if he’s turned into some…” He stopped himself. He grimaced. Bannerman wasn’t really sure what he’d turned into.

  He said, “The heads were of the two men Bobik had named as being responsible for the testing in those villages. They’d have taken still another, but the third man wasn’t there.”

  Elizabeth asked, “The third man would be Bourne?”

  He shook his head. “The third is Chester Lilly, Bourne’s top man in that region. But Lilly wasn’t there. He was back in this country.”

  “Beating up on Roger Clew?”

  “We assume so. I believe so. Roger’s stable, by the way. Not good. In a coma. But there’s reason to hope that he’ll pull through.”

  “Is this Lilly the one who Molly thought might be coming to Hilton Head for me?”

  “Yes.”

  “I look forward to meeting him,” she said.

  “You’re not alone. But he’s a goon. Let’s keep our focus on VaalChem. Lilly knew about the testing that VaalChem was doing. He knew that Bobik’s boasts were more than just talk. He knew that Bobik had killed Sara Gleissman. Bobik claimed, in fact, that it was Lilly’s idea to send her head back as a message.

  He told her how Kessler had boxed those three heads and had sent them to Artemus Bourne. He had added them to a shipment that Bourne was expecting. Three containers of assorted vaccines and some diamonds. He made room for the heads by removing most vaccines and crushing those that remained. He kept those vaccines and several weapons-grade toxins that he found in the safe of VaalChem’s managing director. He kept all the documents, the research protocols, and refused to let Netanya’s people have them. He might have shared them with Netanya, but not with his agents. He knew that some of it could disappear in transit. He said that he would decide what to do with them.

  Elizabeth asked, “What did he decide?”

  Bannerman answered, “I’m not sure that he has. This was only a week to ten days ago. But one flask of it went with that arms shipment I mentioned. It was bound for some rebel group in Sierra Leone whose leader, says Netanya, is a horror. Kessler planted it himself. He knew that this man would open it. That would have been the end of his group. But something went wrong. It was opened in transit. It was opened on a freighter that was well out to sea. It was opened, apparently, during a raid that Roger Clew had arranged.”

  “Roger knew it was there?”

  “He had no idea. Here’s the irony, though. Roger learned of that shipment from Artemus Bourne. Bourne had offered it in trade for Clew’s promise to look for you. Bourne could not have known that the virus was there either.”

  He said, “The raid was intended to interdict that shipment. It was arranged through a Liberian general named Tubbs. When the virus was found and inadvertently opened, it apparently infected everyone on board including twenty children who’d been taken as slaves. I don’t know their status. Netanya’s not optimistic. He thinks that none of those aboard will survive. For that reason, he’s kept this information from Kessler. The Martin Kessler I know could not live with the knowledge that his action had killed twenty children.”

  “But…if it was a mistake…”

  Bannerman shook his head. “He wouldn’t give himself that out.”

  She said sadly, “No, he wouldn’t. Not unless all this had changed him.”

  They both knew that he would never put a gun in his mouth, but he’d find a way to get himself killed.

  Bannerman glanced at the window. He saw Carla approaching. Cassie was skipping along at her side, a ribbon-wrapped teddy bear under her arm. The bear, he assumed, was a gift for her new brother.

  He said to Elizabeth, “Okay, here’s where we are. I haven’t decided what I’ll do about Bourne. We’re making plans in the event that we’re forced to take action, but it’s possible that we will do nothing. I have people to consider who’ve made lives here in Westport. Whatever Bourne’s done, it hasn’t touched them. Until it does, Bourne is someone else’s problem. But I will find Chester Lilly and we will have a talk.”

  “Like Martin’s talk with Bobik?”

  “I’m sure that he’ll answer any questions we have. If he’s responsible for Roger and he acted on his own, he will answer for that, I assure you. If he acted for Bourne, Bourne will answer as well, but I need to be sure of my ground.”

  He said, “I’d like you, in the meanwhile, to stay here with us until we know that it’s safe for you to go home. I know that you have a life there as well. As for Martin, I suggest that you give this time to settle. Consider what I’ve told you about his state of mind. You might decide that it’s best to leave things as they are. If you don’t, and he’s willing, I’ll set up a meeting. Face to face, if possible, but by radio at least.”

  She said, “I am going to see him. And it will be face to face.”

  “Elizabeth…please sleep on it. Promise?”

  “One day.”

  “Well, don’t brood by yourself. Talk it over with Molly. Whatever you decide, that’s what we’ll do.”

  Carla, leading Cassie, had come through the front door. She met Bannerman’s eyes first. She held up two folders. She said, “This is Bourne. One for you and one for Molly.” She set them down near his chair.

  She said to Elizabeth, “We never got to talk. But at least I got a chance to meet your daughter.”

  “My daughter?”

  “Aisha,” said Carla. “Well, I know that she isn’t. But she said that you’re like a second mother to her. I think it’s great that you have someone like Aisha.”

  “She…told me that you filled her in some,” said Elizabeth.

  “A little. I told her that you were the best. She said that she already knew that.”

  Elizabeth waved that off. Her attention turned to Cassie. She said, “Introduce me to this lovely young lady.”

  Carla smiled. She said, “Sorry. Where are my manners? Cassie, this is Elizabeth Stride. Elizabeth Stride, meet Cassie Bannerman.”

  Elizabeth had totally and visibly softened as she rose to take Cassie’s proffered hand. She said, “I’m pleased to meet you. And your father’s very lucky. Are you going down now to see your mom?”

  “Uh-huh. And my brother. Have you met my mother?”

  “No, but I’m told she’s pretty special,” said Elizabeth. She said to Bannerman, “I can see why you’d rather stay out of this.”

  “Out of what?” asked Cassie.

  “A little problem. It’s nothing.”

  Cassie asked Elizabeth, “Why don’t you come with us?

  “Come where? To the hospital? Oh, I don’t think I should. But I’d love to meet you mother when you bring her h
ome.” She heard Molly on the stairs. She said to Cassie, “Besides, I have some things to finish up with Ms. Farrell.”

  “That’s Aunt Molly,” said Cassie. “She’s not really my aunt. It’s like you and this girl who’s not your daughter.”

  “And I also have a little reading to do.” She glanced toward the folders that Carla had brought. She looked up at Bannerman. “May I?”

  He said, “Sure.” He reached to take a copy for himself. He said, “Elizabeth, you’d be welcome, but you’re right; you’d better stay.” He asked Molly, who had entered, “You’ve heard all of this?”

  She nodded. She said, “Quite a mess.”

  He said, “Let’s see if Howard Leland can shed any light. Please call him and tell him that I’ll see him at the hospital. There’s a parking garage. Have him drive up to the roof. I can see the whole roof from Susan’s room.”

  “Him alone?”

  “He can have his security, but not within earshot. I expect it to be friendly, but…”

  “I’ll handle it,” said Molly.

  “Tell whoever you send that if they see me leaving with them…”

  An exasperated sigh. “Maybe I should write this down.”

  He smiled. “My apologies. You…know how to do this.”

  “Get out of here. Hug Susan for me.”

  Molly called Anton Zivic to inform him of the meeting. Zivic, as expected, said what she’d said to Bannerman. “I’ll handle it. You stay with Stride.”

  She next called Leland’s aircraft on the tarmac at Bridgeport. She told Leland when and where and recited the conditions. She said to him, “Sir, don’t try anything foolish.”

  He said, “For God’s sake, I’m the Secretary of State. I do not go around abducting people.”

  “Sir, we’re mindful of what happened to Roger Clew. If this is a set-up, you will not survive it.”

  “Need I…tell you again who you’re speaking to, young lady?”

  “Sir, with respect, I know who you are. But it’s best that we understand each other.”

  Elizabeth had heard Molly’s end of both calls. She asked, “This is the Howard Leland?”

  She nodded.

  “Did you just tell him that you’d kill him if he didn’t behave?”

  “It seemed worth the reminder. Leland’s too close to Bourne. And some of them have tried to take Paul in the past. They’ve learned better than to set foot in Westport itself, but Norwalk Hospital might be a temptation.”

  Elizabeth said, “I should have gone with them.”

  “You’re dead, remember? You stay out of sight. But you’re in good company. Quite a few of us are dead. We have ghosts all over the place.”

  Elizabeth said, “I’m not sure I get you.”

  “We call them ghosts. Or floaters. We rotate them a month at a time. They keep moving. We’ve let everyone know that if we’re hit, they’re still out there and they’ll hunt down anyone who even might be responsible. It was actually Harry Whistler’s idea. It started with the twins. You see one, but not the other. Nothing scares people quite as much as the knowledge that someone unseen means to kills them.”

  “Have you needed them?”

  “Not lately. We’ve been left alone.”

  Molly’s phone chirped again. She picked it up. She said her name.

  She heard heavy static. She could barely hear the caller. She heard random words. She heard “Bannerman.” She heard “…speak to…” She heard the voice say, “…need his help…” The voice itself was hoarse, its tone almost frantic. She realized with a chill that the accent was Germanic. She said, “I can’t hear you, but stay on the phone. Let me get to some better equipment.”

  Martin Kessler? She stopped herself from saying his name. If this was Kessler, he was looking for Paul and he seemed to want to speak to him privately.

  She said to Elizabeth, “I need to take this upstairs.”

  “Trouble?”

  “No, just some bad atmospherics.”

  “Go ahead. I’ll be fine. I’ll catch up on my reading.”

  “Five minutes,” said Molly. She hurried toward the stairs. She was halfway to the attic, beyond Elizabeth’s hearing, when she paused to ask, “Martin? This is Molly.

  Molly Farrell. Is this Martin Kessler on the line?”

  The voice said, “Yes, Molly. I (static) speak to Paul. It’s Elizabeth…” More static. “Bourne (static)..abeth and Aisha.”

  “Keep talking, Martin. You’ll clear up in a minute.”

  Molly climbed one more flight. She stepped into the attic. Carla was already at one of the consoles, reviewing the past week’s surveillance tapes. Molly placed the phone in the cradle of what looked like a scanner. She adjusted several toggles and played with a dial. She said, “Martin, keep talking. Try again.”

  “It’s Elizabeth,” he shouted. “Elizabeth and Aisha. Bourne (static) Elizabeth and Aisha.”

  Molly said, “Martin, you’re still breaking up. Say again about Elizabeth and Aisha.”

  “Bourne has them (long static)…Paul (even longer)…I cannot get there in time.” These words faded under a crackling screech and a series of electronic pings.

  “Martin, listen. It’s not true. He does not have Elizabeth.”

  She got only a few random syllables in response. She tried again. She said,

  “Elizabeth is safe. Bourne does not have Elizabeth. She’s here.”

  “I have lost you. (static) hopeless. I will (static) Tel Aviv.”

  “Martin, she’s safe. She is downstairs right now.”

  “Bourne (static) hurt them (static) cut them to pieces.”

  “Martin? He will not. Can you hear me? She’s safe.”

  He snarled in frustration. (static)…try the Mossad.”

  The line went dead. There was nothing but noise. Molly said, “Damn.” She asked, “What’s going on here?”

  Carla asked, “That was Kessler? He’s really alive?”

  “He’s alive. In Angola. I’ll fill you in later. He thinks Bourne has Elizabeth Stride and young Aisha.”

  Carla shrugged. “Maybe someone’s just busting his chops. You think Bourne? Why would he? All that would do is piss Kessler off and the story’s too easy too check.”

  “Easy if you’re not in some Angolan jungle using landlines that are probably all rotted out. You’d think he’d have access to a satellite phone. I bet you that’s where he’s going right now.”

  “Then maybe he’s been suckered. Someone wants him at that phone. If he doesn’t calm down he’ll be easy to take. Someone knew how to push the right buttons.”

  Molly nodded. That was possible. It might even be likely. She said, “I’ll call Netanya. He has people with Kessler. Tel Aviv must be in contact with them. Maybe they can warn him in time.”

  “If you’re calling Netanya, put Elizabeth on the line. Let Netanya hear first

  hand that she’s with us.”

  “Good idea. Will you go get her? Bring her up here.”

  THIRTY

  Bannerman lifted Cassie to the nursery window for her first look at her new brother. A young attendant had brought the bundle to them. The baby stirred, but not much. He was smacking his lips. Cassie did not seem greatly impressed. She said, “He looks like a fish.”

  “He does not,” said Bannerman. “He’s spectacularly handsome.”

  “Like a guppy in a fish tank when the water gets too warm.”

  “Probably just hungry. He’s due to be fed.”

  “Fed how? From a bottle? Can I do it?”

  “You mother wants to nurse him. The bottles come later.”

  “Boob food,” said Cassie. “Was I breast-fed?”

  “Sure were. That’s why you’re so healthy and smart.”

  “Were you?” Cassie asked. “Did you do that with Grandma?”

  “I’m not sure, come to think of it. I guess probably.”

  “It’s a little hard to picture.”

  “I was a lot smaller.”

 
“Very funny,” said Cassie. “Not just you. Grandma, too.”

  “Yeah, I know. I really wish you could have known her.”

  She had never met her Grandma, for whom she was named. She had only seen photos and newspaper clippings. Her grandmother had been murdered almost twenty years before. Her grandfather had died several years before that, but in his case the cause of death was natural. The elder Cassie Bannerman had been an art buyer for several European museums. Or so he’d thought while he was growing up. It turned out that she’d been better known as “Mama.” She’d been a contract agent, not a spy, but something like it. She ended up running a group of such agents. John Waldo and Billy McHugh were among them.

  He’d been in school in the States when his mother was killed. He flew to Europe at once. He met Billy. Long story. He ended up being sort of adopted by them. They let him help them in the search for her killers. It was the start of his real education.

  Cassie nudged him. She asked, “What are you thinking?”

  “About you. And your brother. And especially your mom. And how lucky I am to have each of you.”

  “Let’s go in and see if she’s awake yet.”

  She was, but not fully. He leaned over and kissed her. She purred softly in response and then she drifted off again. He turned toward the window and looked down at the garage. Its roof was unoccupied the last time he looked. Now he saw two cars, both nondescript rentals. One was parked by the ramp, its engine left running; one man was at the wheel, a second was on foot. He was speaking into his lapel. Those two would be the two Secret Service agents.

  The other car had stopped in the center of the roof. The driver and passenger were leaning forward, peering, no doubt wondering where he would be coming from. The passenger was a woman, bespectacled, fifty-ish. She seemed very nervous, perhaps out of her element. This, Bannerman assumed, was the scientist Molly mentioned. He hadn’t expected a woman. The driver was Howard Leland himself. Leland seemed equally skittish.

  He couldn’t see any of the Westport people whom either Molly or Anton had sent. Nor would he have expected to see them. But one or more would be positioned to block the ramp, one or more would be watching his back as he approached, one or more would be either on the hospital’s roof or on the roof of a neighboring high rise.