Sea Of Fire (2003)

by Clancy, Tom - Op Center 10

  Hood sighed. He no longer felt like calling Daphne. Until Herbert was safe, he did not want any distractions.

  At least that was what Hood told himself.

  FORTY-EIGHT

  Cairns, Australia Saturday, 10:49 P.M.

  Monica Loh was accustomed to the dangers she faced at sea. There were storms, collisions, hazardous rescues, even mines dropped by insurgents from her country and its neighbors. Disasters were rare, but she and her crew were vigilant and confident.

  The naval officer was alert but extremely uneasy as they pulled up to the massive front gate of the Darling estate. She was going into what the Republic of Singapore Navy classified as a search-and-discover mission. Yet she did not have all the information she needed to feel confident. Loh was posing as an animal welfare worker visiting from Singapore. Beyond that, they had not come up with much of a story for her. Nor did she have a clear idea what she was supposed to do, other than to go out back with Captain Leyland and look for the koala. Leyland expected they would find the animal pretty much where Jelbart and Spider left him. The koala was apparently rather sedentary. Loh also did not know what to expect from Jervis Darling or this man Bob Herbert. The naval officer admired Herbert’s ideas and his courage. But he also seemed edgy and impatient. Would Darling notice that? If so, at the very least, their mission would fail. Loh had not even considered the ramifications if she were exposed. She had not sought authorization for this mission because it would be classified as a shore-based operation. That fell under the jurisdiction of the Defence Executive Command. It would have taken time to second her to the DEC, if the commanding officer would have permitted that at all. The group was highly protective of all land-based activities.

  Leyland pulled up to the gate and lowered the window. He looked around for an intercom but saw none. The reason quickly became apparent. Darling did not need one. A jeep pulled up behind the Humvee. Spotlights were turned on the Humvee. Two men got out. Both were armed with Uzis. One guard approached the driver’s side of the Humvee. He shined a flashlight on Captain Leyland. The other guard walked slowly around the Humvee. He checked on top and below, probably searching for explosives.

  “What are you doing here?” the guard asked.

  “I’m Captain Leyland with the Queensland North Rural Fire Brigade,” Leyland told him. He took a leather holder from his shirt pocket and showed the security guard his badge. “These are volunteers with International Wildlife Education and Conservation Group. We’re searching for an injured koala. We believe we spotted him from the air, out on the property.”

  “That was your chopper sailing over before?” the guard asked.

  “Yes. Sorry for the disturbance. But it’s rather important that we find the animal, and the night is growing a beard.”

  The guard shone his flashlight on the occupants. Then he stepped from the Humvee and pulled a radio from his belt. He turned his back on the occupants as he spoke quietly into the mouthpiece. After a short conversation, he came back to the window.

  “The groundskeeper said he’ll go and look for it,” the guard told him. “You can wait here or—”

  “I’m afraid that doesn’t work for us,” Leyland said. “The koala is ill, you see. It may spread sickness to other animals on the estate. Dogs, for example. Mr. Darling’s daughter plays with those animals.”

  “Are you suggesting that we send a patrol out to shoot the thing?” the guard asked.

  “I am not suggesting that,” Leyland snapped. “We do not want him shot. We want him reacquired for study. That is why these people are here. This is very important.”

  The guard considered this for a moment. He stepped away again and spoke into the radio. When he was finished, the guard informed Leyland that Mr. Darling’s personal assistant Andrew Graham would meet them at the front door. Then the guard walked to the gate, swiped a card through a slot on the door, and the gate slid aside. Leyland drove through, following the winding, cobble-stone drive toward the front of the mansion.

  From the sky, Monica Loh had neither been surprised nor impressed by the size of the home. From the deck of her patrol ship she had seen many impressive oceanside and cliff-top estates. This was just one more. As they pulled up to the columned entrance, however, she felt as if she were in the presence of something oddly outdated and supine. Loh was used to oversized ships and aircraft, but they all moved. People worked on and around them. There was a sense of life to them. Not this place. Even the man who came to meet them was strangely inanimate. He was a thin man dressed in a charcoal sweater and black slacks. His actions were stiff, strangely guarded. One would naturally be wary of uninvited guests showing up this late at night. But that should manifest itself as impatience, annoyance. There was none of that in this man.

  Loh and Leyland got out of the Humvee. The captain pulled Herbert’s wheelchair from the back and opened it. He stood beside Loh while the intelligence chief swung into the leather seat.

  “My sick koala’s got more life than this pie-eater,” Leyland said as the man approached them.

  “I was just thinking that,” Loh said.

  “He’s being watched,” Herbert said quietly.

  “By whom?” Leyland asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Herbert replied. He moved between the other two and nodded toward the top of one of the columns. “A small security camera is moving right along with him.”

  “I can’t believe the big man himself would be doing that,” Leyland whispered back.

  “I can, if he’s hiding something,” Herbert replied.

  The trio fell silent as the man neared. They could see him clearly in the clean white glow of spotlights clustered two at either end of the facade. He was a tallish, round-faced, dark-skinned man. In soft, overenunciated tones he introduced himself as Andrew Graham. He said he would show the others to the back, though he made an unhappy face as he looked down at Herbert.

  “With respect, sir, it is all grass back there,” he said to Herbert. “It might be difficult for you to navigate. Would you care to wait inside?”

  Herbert looked at Loh. “What do you think? Can you handle Little Maluka without me?”

  “I handled an orphaned Komodo dragon in Bandung,” she said. “I think I can manage.”

  Herbert smiled. “If you need help, beep me.”

  Loh said the same, but with a look.

  Andrew contacted the groundskeeper via cell phone. The burly young man arrived several moments later in a golf cart. While he drove Leyland and Loh around the side of the estate, Andrew helped Herbert up the short flight of steps into the mansion.

  Loh was a veteran naval officer. Her bearings were surest when she was on the sea and, perhaps more important, when she was part of a unit.

  Her feeling of uneasiness increased dramatically as their key player went into the house alone.

  FORTY-NINE

  Cairns, Australia Saturday, 11:12 P.M.

  The first thing Herbert did as he entered the long, marble-rich foyer was to look for security devices. There were motion detectors in the corners and a keypad beside the door. Obviously, they were not on now. There were no cameras here, only outside. That was good. If he were left alone, chances were good he could move about without being spied upon. Andrew released the chair as soon as they were inside. He extended a hand toward the living room. Both men began moving in that direction. Herbert felt as though he were entering a museum. It was absolutely quiet, save for the squeak of his wheels and the secretary’s shoes. Large paintings and statues were barely visible in the vast room ahead. Herbert could barely make out other rooms in the dim light beyond.

  “May I get you a beverage?” Andrew asked. “Sparkling water or something a bit more potent?”

  “Thank you, no,” Herbert replied.

  “A snack, then?”

  “Nothing, thanks,” Herbert said. “I was wondering, though, if I might impose on you. Is there a phone line I can use? I’d like to send an E-mail to my office in Washington. I’ve been out
on this search all night and need to get some information over to them.”

  “Of course,” Andrew said. “That is not a problem.”

  “I’ll charge the call to my personal account. It won’t cost Mr. Darling anything.”

  “I’m certain it would be all right if you called your office directly,” Andrew said.

  “That’s very kind,” Herbert replied.

  They entered the living room, and Andrew led the way to a study on the left. There were shelves filled with books and tools such as magnifying glasses, whisk brooms, and computer diskettes. The secretary gestured toward a large mahogany desk. There was a phone tucked among dozens of shoe boxes, cigar boxes, and plastic bags.

  “Mr. Darling uses that unit for his laptop,” Andrew said. “You can plug into the data port in back.”

  “Thank you very much,” Herbert said.

  “Not at all.”

  Herbert glanced around. “It looks to me like Mr. Darling does a little scientific work.”

  “He studies and collects fossils,” Andrew said.

  “Fascinating,” Herbert replied. “I also thought I saw the dome of an observatory driving up.”

  “Perhaps you did,” Andrew said.

  “Is Mr. Darling also a stargazer?”

  “Mr. Darling has many interests,” Andrew replied as he turned toward the door.

  The intelligence chief already knew that there was an observatory from the dossier on Darling. He was simply curious how forthcoming Andrew would be. The answer was: not very.

  “Well, thank Mr. Darling for me,” Herbert said.

  “I shall,” Andrew said as he left the room. He did not shut the door.

  Herbert booted his computer as he moved himself to the near side of the desk. His back was to the door as he raised the armrest on the left side of his chair and unwound the cable tucked inside. He plugged that into the back of his computer and into the data port on Darling’s telephone. If the magnate did hobby-related research in here, chances were good he took business calls here as well.

  Herbert jacked in the six-foot cord and keyed the number Matt Stoll had given him. The link was established quickly through the small, slender antenna on the top right of the wheelchair. The antenna was attached to a booster on the back of the chair. Unlike standard cell phones, it could process high-speed transmissions. Herbert watched on his computer as it began searching Darling’s telephone for the number log.

  “That is quite a machine,” said a voice from behind.

  The voice was big and carried a mild Australian accent. Herbert did not have to see the speaker to know who it was. The intelligence agent smiled.

  “It’s a pretty standard Dell laptop,” Herbert replied.

  Darling smiled. “I was not referring to the computer.”

  “I know,” Herbert replied. “Good evening, Mr. Darling.”

  “Good evening.” Darling walked briskly toward Herbert. He was wearing a gray sweat suit that said Cairns Yacht Club across the chest. His eyes remained fixed on the chair. “Obviously custom made.”

  “Yes,” Herbert said. “Designed by me and built by the same people who made FDR his chair.”

  The men shook hands. “And you would be whom?”

  “R. Clayton Herbert,” Herbert replied with a smile. Inside, though, he was anxious. He was also annoyed at himself. He did not want to give his full name if he did not have to. Darling could find out whom he worked for. But he also did not want Loh or Leyland calling him Bob after telling Darling that he was someone else. He should have given them a heads-up. It was one of those details you occasionally forgot when working with outsiders.

  “Andrew said you wanted to send some E-mails,” Darling said. “I don’t want to keep you from that.”

  “It can wait,” Herbert assured him.

  The computer was still downloading as they spoke. Stoll had told him that once the file was found, it would take only a few seconds to snare the numbers. First, however, it had to make its way through whatever phone software might be piled in front of the log. Speed-dialing, voice-mail programs, call-forwarding, all of that. The search could take anywhere from a few seconds to several minutes. Stoll also said the computer would chime twice when it found what it was looking for. He would explain that to Darling as a reminder of some kind.

  “In that case, I’d love to hear about your work with wildlife,” Darling said. “You’re a volunteer, I presume?”

  “Yes,” Herbert replied. “Actually, I’m here on a holiday. I was called into this search by my friend Monica. She’s involved with IWEC in Singapore.”

  “I see. You’re American, I gather,” Darling said.

  “Mississippi born,” Herbert replied. “I live outside of Washington, D.C., now.”

  “Are you in government?”

  “Personal security,” Herbert said.

  “Fascinating field,” Darling said. “What do you think of the security we have at this estate?”

  “From the little bit I’ve seen, it’s pretty impressive,” Herbert said. “You’ve got sentries and surveillance outside, motion detectors inside. It’s a difficult combination to beat.”

  “Touch wood, no one has,” Darling replied. He leaned forward slightly, squinting. “You appear to have everything you need for personal security and comfort. Your chair has a cell phone, a computer, what appears to be a satellite uplink, a joystick steering mechanism, and even cruise control, if I’m reading the joystick base correctly?”

  “Yes,” Herbert smiled. “I can do five miles per hour on the open sidewalk. They disconnect that function when I participate in marathons.”

  “Do they really?” Darling laughed.

  “They do,” Herbert said. The insincerity of this conversation was killing him. He wished Darling would get a phone call or something.

  “Fascinating. You wouldn’t think five miles an hour would be a threat to anyone.”

  “It isn’t about the speed,” Herbert said. “It’s the idea of an assist. A marathon is supposed to be about physical endurance.”

  “Have you ever won one, Mr. Herbert?”

  “I’ve never lost,” Herbert replied.

  Darling grinned. “I like that.”

  Where the hell is that chime? Herbert wondered.

  Darling walked back behind the chair. “I’m curious, Mr. Herbert. That’s a Ku-band uplink on the back of your chair.”

  “That’s right,” Herbert said. Alarms began ringing inside his head. This was not good.

  “Why do you need an antenna to send E-mail?”

  “I don’t,” Herbert replied.

  Darling bent slightly to get a better look at the box. “But I notice the light on the power box is lit.”

  “Is it?”

  “You didn’t know?”

  “That must have been from earlier, at the fire outpost,” Herbert said. “I was downloading data.”

  “No, that couldn’t be,” Darling said. “It was not on when you arrived.”

  The outside security camera, Herbert realized with a jolt. He was watching their arrival.

  “I must have turned it on by accident,” Herbert said, smiling again. His soul ached as he reached behind the wheelchair and shut the antenna off. That cut the link to Op-Center. He unplugged the cable from Darling’s telephone. He shut the computer, which would erase Matt Stoll’s program. There would be no evidence it had ever existed.

  Unfortunately, the computer still had not pinged. That meant none of the data had been downloaded from the telephone. This whole enterprise had been a freaking waste of time. Or worse, it could hurt them if Darling suspected that they were here for something other than a stray koala. Herbert had had a choice to make. He had made it.

  Darling came back around the front of the wheelchair. He folded his arms again and paced back and forth. Jervis Darling suddenly looked as impatient as Bob Herbert felt.

  “You know, R. Clayton Herbert,” Darling said, “when people show up at odd hours for unusual reasons
, it is typically a reporter hoping to get a story or a business rival trying to collect information. What is your reason, Mr. Herbert?”

  “Actually, Mr. Darling, my reason is much more serious than nailing a story about you,” Herbert said.

  “Ah.” Darling stopped pacing. He regarded Herbert. “You have the floor. And my attention.”

  Herbert hesitated. He was about to put himself, FNO Loh, and Captain Leyland in jeopardy. Their careers, possibly their lives could be ruined. He had the right to do that to himself but not to the others. And what would he gain? Darling would not give him information. If Darling were guilty, talking might cause him to send his operatives deep underground. Or it might cause him to get angry and expose himself. Or it might cause him to have the lot of them shot for trespassing. There was no way of knowing.

  Screw it, Herbert thought. He had come here to do a job. That job was to collect information and by so doing, save lives. The primary method had failed. Herbert was obligated to try another. Besides, when pressed, Darling might inadvertently answer one critical question: whether or not he was guilty.

  “Mr. Darling, I honestly don’t know jack-shit about animals,” Herbert said. “I don’t even like them much. Though there are some creatures I like even less. I do work in security, however. I won’t tell you who employs me or how I know this. But here’s the bottom line. Nuclear materials are missing from a radioactive waste site, and one leg of the trail leads here.”

  Darling did not react. Which, in a way, was a reaction. He did not ask what that statement had to do with him.

  “No comment?” Herbert asked.

  “Were you jacking into my telephone system in an effort to spy on me?” Darling asked.

  “I was,” Herbert admitted.

  Darling looked down slowly. His expression was blank. He walked over to the phone and removed the unit from the desk. His slippered feet rubbed the hardwood floors of the study as he made his way to the door.

  “Please show yourself out,” Darling said over a very rigid shoulder. “Immediately.”

  “You’re not calling the police?” Herbert asked.