Devil's Eye (25 page)

He turned his head up towards her.

Laura was staring fixedly at the map with the pentagram overlay. “This can’t be!” she declared. “It’s just too obvious! It’s crazy! Nobody would believe it!”

“
Do you believe it?” her uncle asked in a subdued tone.

She kept staring, reluctant to answer.

“
There should be some sentinels or attendants along the axes of the star,” Jonas Mitchell explained. “When they have their rituals, they have candles lined up along the axes. A pentagram of this size, encompassing Washington, should have human devotees along the axes.”

“
And how are you going to prove that?”

“
Walk the star.”

“
Walk the star? And look for who?”

“
Someone displaying signs of the black arts.”

“
I don’t know, Uncle Jonas. I don’t know,” she said solicitously.

“
Facts are facts and myth is myth. But when you mix the two….”

“
Let’s just stay with the facts,” he affirmed with authority. “You were accosted outside the museum.”

“
A street mugging.”

“
You heard a scream inside.”

“
A yowling cat.”

“
Are you playing devil’s advocate for me, now?”

“
No, Uncle,” Laura replied somberly. “I’m trying hard to think of some reason why your conclusion shouldn’t be true. It’s too incredulous!” She paused, battling with her own sense of logic.

“
And what’s at the center of this pentagram?” she asked, knowing what the answer would be.

Chapter 23

The President was hosting a contingent of decorated Boy Scouts in the Rose Garden with the White House Press Corps attentively looking on. Coincidentally, members of the Omega Group were gathering unnoticed next door in the Eisenhower Executive Office Building. If reporters had not been trying to intersperse some critical questions during the photo session with the scouts, they might have noticed that something unusual was happening in the huge, ornate building next to the White House, given the variety of high ranking officials entering into it.

Stanford Howard, the national security adviser; Senator Everett Dunne, chairman of the Senate Intelligence Committee; FBI Director, Richard Worthington; Robert Coulson, head of counter
‐
intelligence at the CIA; and several ranking military officers, including General William Bradley; and Undersecretary of Defense, Philip Taylor, the President’s choice to replace Ronald Stack, were filing into the historic Treaty Room.

They entered a vast hall covered by grandiose murals depicting events in American history. Members of the Omega Group typically met in varying places to avoid regularity and unnecessary attention. Vice President, Louis Mansfield, was already there, having arrived through an underground tunnel from the West Wing of the White House. They greeted each other and seated themselves around a massive conference table for their first briefing since the crisis meeting at the White House days earlier. Two blue leather chairs stood conspicuously empty at the long rectangular table—one for the Secretary of Defense and the other for the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.

Vice President Mansfield took the principal chair at the middle of the table. Across from him was Senator Dunne whose smooth round face, rimless glasses, curly light hair sprinkled with gray, and robust body, gave him a cherubic air. Next to the Vice President was Philip Taylor, the Undersecretary of Defense. He was slim, with chiseled features and pale, drawn skin.

Taylor looked silently around him, assessing what the others might be thinking. Unofficial word was already circulating that he would be succeeding Ronald Stack as Secretary of Defense. His cool confidence challenged any lingering doubt among those present that the President had categorically excluded him from consideration to become Secretary of Defense—until the Chief Executive had brunch with Victor Sherwyck.

“
Gentlemen,” intoned the Vice President. “There are several major operations we have to discuss.” His voice was somber. “But first, I want to acknowledge with profound sadness the untimely deaths of two of our members—Ronald Stack and General Benjamin Starr.”

The men around the conference table lowered their heads as he spoke.

“
I know, as you do, that both Ron and Ben would want us to carry on as if they were here. It would be the greatest tribute to their memory and work of the Omega Group.”

“
Hear, hear,” several voices murmured in agreement around the table.

“
A moment of silent reflection in their memory,” Vice President Mansfield said.

After a hushed interval, the Vice President invited Stanford Howard, the national security adviser, seated diagonally across from him, to conduct the proceedings.

“
Thank you, Mr. Vice President.” Stanford Howard glanced around the table. “As you all know, our first and most pressing item is the McConnell case. What developments do we have?”

The presidential adviser looked around those assembled and caught the eyes of Richard Worthington of the FBI. Worthington took it as a cue and began his report.

Meanwhile, General Bradley glanced purposefully around the table, assessing each face before him.

Worthington was reporting that the FBI had alerted all its field offices and was pursuing possible leads or connections with other cases under investigation.

“
We’ve placed particular emphasis on communities with ties to the Middle East,” Director Worthington said. “So far, we’ve come up with nothing. But it’s also very early in the investigation.”

“
I urge we continue the Middle East angle,” Senator Dunne said. “We have to follow up on our best lead to date.”

General Bradley saw his opening: “Two of our operatives were dispatched to Beirut. But, I’m afraid I have bad news.”

“
That’s a real shame,” Senator Dunne replied immediately. “I’m sure our man, Hammad, would have given them valuable information. He’s been a go
‐
between for us in the past—a lot of Arab
‐
Israeli stuff. Very useful. Very reliable. Too bad.”

General Bradley looked coldly at Senator Dunne across the table.

“
Why do you presume they didn’t meet him, Senator?”

Senator Dunne’s pale round face flushed red. “What do you mean, General? What are you saying? I’m not presuming anything!”

“
Our operatives
did
meet Mustafa Ali Hammad, Senator. Why would you think they didn’t?”

“
This is outrageous!” sputtered the Senator. “I said no such thing! What are you trying to imply? ”

“
I’m not implying anything, Senator. Our operatives did meet Hammad. Even though they encountered some—shall we say— obstacles on the way. Hammad professed absolutely no knowledge about Jeannette McConnell. He was surprised by our queries, let alone indifferent to our monetary inducements.”

“
Well, he’s unreliable,” Senator Dunne retorted. “He plays all sides. He’s lying.”

“
I thought you just said Hammad is ‘our man’, a reliable source,” the Vice President chided.

Senator Dunne stared back at the Vice President, his face still flushed.

“
I think everyone learns the ‘flip
‐
flop’ when they join the Senate,” Stanford Howard said jokingly, trying to curb the rising tension in the room.

A burst of laughter rewarded him.

“
So, what
is
the ‘bad news’, General?” the national security adviser continued, looking at Bradley seated across from him near the Vice President.

“
That’s what I wanted to tell you,” Bradley replied innocently. “Our operatives met with Mustafa Ali Hammad and were satisfied to learn that he had no knowledge of Miss McConnell’s disappearance, nor is she anywhere in his orbit of knowledge or influence.”

“
Well, he’s playing a double game!” Senator Dunne declared, regaining his composure.

General Bradley figured it was time to lay out the scenario he concluded with Colonels Caine and Jones enroute home aboard the “Ike”.

“
Gentlemen, if you will,” he began. “It was in Warlock’s interest to have us get a lead on Jeannie from our contact in Beirut. But, at the same time, someone did not want us to find out what Hammad would tell us. Why? Because Warlock’s lead is a false one.”

“
Preposterous!” Senator Dunne blurted. “He’s been right by us all these years!”

“
Maybe, he’s been setting us up all these years for a big fall.” General Bradley ventured.

He knew he was on thin ground, but confident in the conclusions drawn by his trusted charges, Colonels Caine and Jones.

“
This does get in the realm of unfettered speculation,” Stanford Howard replied. “How do you come to such conclusions?”

“
Our operatives were attacked at the pickup point in the Mediterranean,” General Bradley announced. “They were not supposed to get to Beirut.”

“
Very few people knew they were going,” the FBI Director offered.

“
Very few,” General Bradley reiterated and looked around the room.

“
When they succeeded in repulsing the attack, they did meet the Beirut contacts, as planned. If the attack was hatched in Beirut, the contacts would not have bothered to show up. So they knew nothing about it.”

“
Someone did not want them to meet Hammad,” ventured Robert Coulson, the counter
‐
intelligence chief of the CIA.

“
That’s our premise,” General Bradley replied. “And when they did meet him, Hammad’s compound was attacked.”

“
Someone didn’t want Hammad to tell them anything,” Coulson followed.

“
That’s right,” said General Bradley. “Or not come out alive to talk about it.”

The men in the room were listening attentively. Only Undersecretary Taylor was rolling his eyes demonstratively, while Senator Dunne shifted in his chair.

“
Now why would that be?” Philip Taylor asked incredulously.

“
Because Hammad’s information would flush out Warlock as a false lead,” General Bradley declared.

“
After all these years! Suddenly, Warlock’s a false lead! Absurd!” Senator Dunne retorted.

“
We’re just piecing together the facts,” General Bradley said.

“
Well, how about this for a fact,” Senator Dunne said boldly, regaining his ground. “Your operatives could have stumbled onto some maritime brigands in the ocean and the attack on Hammad is business as usual among rivals in Beirut.” He punctuated his statement by demonstratively stroking back his curly hair.

“
We don’t think so,” General Bradley said coolly. “There are factors that spell deliberation, not happenstance.” He purposefully kept back details of their coordinates his commandos found on an attacker’s body.

“
I think your scenario is too far
‐
fetched,” Senator Dunne replied.

“
And I think—as the Shakespearean cliché goes—‘thou protests too much’,’’ General Bradley challenged. “Why were you so quick to presume they didn’t meet Hammad?”

“
I presumed no such thing!” Senator Dunne retorted and removed his glasses for emphasis.

“
Gentlemen! Please! This is an important meeting, not a duel,” Stanford Howard interjected. “We understand your frustration and concern for you men, General. We know they dodge bullets to do their work. We deeply respect and appreciate it. And we understand your loyalty to a long
‐
standing source, Senator. It takes many years of nurturing and finessing. We’re all supposed to be on the same side here.”

“
We’re
supposed
to be,” General Bradley said forcefully, aiming it at the traitor he believed to be among them.

Chapter 24

“
We're too far afield here,” said Vice President Mansfield. “I see a lot of speculation so far—not that that’s bad. But we’ve got to get a firm grip on something.”