Authors: Stephen Coonts
Liberty (51 page)
“Corrigan sent it to someone.”
“Can you decode it?”
“No.”
“NSA?” NSA was the National Security Agency, the government's cryptographers.
“Nope. It's an RPS codeâthere is no known way to decode it without one of the two keys.”
“Terrific,” he said, and went back upstairs to his office.
Toad Tarkington and Rita Moravia were waiting when he got there. They had just flown in from Boston.
“You look like you were run over by a garbage truck,” Jake said.
“That's supposed to be funny,” Toad said to Rita, who didn't grin.
“Sorry,” Jake said. “Bad joke. I owe you an apology, Toad. I shouldn't have let Sonny Tran wander around with you and Bennett. He probably maneuvered that van into
the path of the garbage truck on purpose.” He passed the police report of the accident to Toad. “The driver of the garbage truck said the van accelerated to get in front of him. There was no way to stop. The police didn't cite either driver because they had two conflicting stories.”
the path of the garbage truck on purpose.” He passed the police report of the accident to Toad. “The driver of the garbage truck said the van accelerated to get in front of him. There was no way to stop. The police didn't cite either driver because they had two conflicting stories.”
“You think he wanted to destroy the Corrigan detector?”
“It's junk. And Sonny has disappeared. He didn't go home, and he isn't answering his cell phone. In fact, Zelda tells me he doesn't have it on. She can't track it through the cell network.”
“Wow,” Rita said. “If that crash was intentional, that was a gutsy move. He could have been killed, too.”
“Sonny Tran is one cool customer,” Jake acknowledged. “Iâwell, hell, I screwed up. I apologize.”
Toad waved it away. “Forget it, CAG. We're all doing the best we can.”
Jake looked at Rita. “I need your help. I want to know everything there is to know about Fleet Week in New York. I'll call your boss in the morning and get you transferred over here.”
An hour later, when Toad and Rita were on the way home, Rita remarked, “He looked a little more upbeat than he has the last few times I saw him.”
Toad agreed. “That garbage truck crack was the first funny he's tried in a month. He thinks he's on to something.”
“Amen to that,” Rita said fervently.
The following afternoon Zelda intercepted an encrypted e-mail to Corrigan. It was from a sender in France. She printed it out and was studying it when her computer began flashing. She had an e-mail! Someone had sent her one at the CIA! Sarah.Houston was the addressee.
Who in the world?
She called it up. This one was from the same person in France who had e-mailed Corrigan. She studied it, then
realized she was looking at an encryption key. Actually, two keys.
realized she was looking at an encryption key. Actually, two keys.
Fifteen minutes later she had Corrigan's outgoing and incoming e-mail decoded. She printed them out and carried them upstairs to Jake Grafton's office. The admiral was in conference with Rita Moravia. The secretary took the e-mails in and handed them to Jake Grafton.
Sixty seconds later he was in the outer office. “How'd you get these?”
“Someone sent us the keys.” She handed him the message she had received. He dropped into a chair, glanced at the keys, then carefully read the decoded messages.
“Zelda, I thank you. Your country thanks you.” He popped out of the chair and kissed her on the cheek, then scrambled back into his office with the messages in his hand. He slammed the door closed behind him.
Zelda Hudson, rubbing her cheek, stood in front of an amazed secretary. “But I didn't do anything,” she protested, then wandered off to get a soda pop.
In midafternoon the tractor-trailer rig pulled into a small warehouse facility in Newark. Nguyen Duc Tran backed the trailer up to a loading dock, killed the engine, got out of the cab, and stretched.
He looked around casually, then climbed the stairs to the loading dock and went in the large open door.
His brother, Sonny, was sitting at a desk against a sidewall. He was the only man in the place. Nguyen pulled the nearby folding chair around and sat in it. He lit a cigarette, took a puff, and grinned.
“I've been wondering where you were,” Sonny said.
“I had an adventure. The Arabs did not part with their toy willingly.”
“There have been some articles in the newspaper about dead Arabs scattered around Florida.”
“It was fun,” Nguyen said expansively. “I truly enjoyed
it.” He jerked a thumb toward the rig at the dock, and laughed.
it.” He jerked a thumb toward the rig at the dock, and laughed.
“You are a nihilist, I think,” Sonny said thoughtfully.
“And you aren't?” Nguyen waved the hand that held the cigarette in a large sweeping gestureâ“Smashing those bastards was ⦠perfect. Just perfect! Damn, I feel good.”
“We won't survive this adventure,” Sonny said, his eye on his brother.
“Hey, everyone has to die. When it's over there's nothing, nothing at all. No paradise and no hell. All you get is the juice you make before you go.” Nguyen dropped the half-smoked cigarette and stepped on it. “You want to look at it? It's a helluva piece of work.”
“In a minute. There's no hurry. A helicopter will take it to the job site Monday morning.”
“I wondered how you were going to get it by the troops. I heard on the radio that they're searching every truck going into the city.”
“Helicopter. We'll go over them.”
Nguyen Duc Tran laughed raucously. He leaned back in the chair and shouted his glee at the heavens. Despite himself, Sonny Tran laughed, too.
Yes, smashing this rotten, misbegotten society and the bastards who built it was indeed sublime.
At midnight Jake Grafton boarded an executive jet at Andrews Air Force Base. He was the only passenger.
He settled into a window seat on the left side and reclined it as soon as the pilot lifted the landing gear. The plane took off to the south and banked into a climbing left turn. Soon the lights of Washington were visible stretching to the horizon. Traffic delineated the Beltway, he could see the Washington Monument and the Capitol ⦠a sea of lights, millions of people.
He tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable as the lights of Baltimore passed off the left wing. There was a
cloud deck over the ocean, so he didn't see New York, which was almost a hundred miles northwest of the plane's course. Boston went under the nose a while later. He drifted off to sleep with the jet on course for the North Atlantic.
cloud deck over the ocean, so he didn't see New York, which was almost a hundred miles northwest of the plane's course. Boston went under the nose a while later. He drifted off to sleep with the jet on course for the North Atlantic.
Paris was as it always was, a magic city, a city of youth and dreams, today under a high, clear, pale May sky. Jake Grafton was wearing jeans, tennis shoes, and his ratty windbreaker as he sat on a bench in front of Notre-Dame. Above him the gargoyles watched the human parade as they had for centuries.
He bought a bag of seed for the pigeons and dribbled it out parsimoniously until he tired of it, then he threw them the last handful and emptied the bag. They ate it at his feet.
He was early, of course. He would be early at his own funeral, or so Callie had said many times through the years when he urged her to hurry up. Maybe it was the navy, all those years of being at the appointed place before the appointed time, just in case.
He saw the limo pull up and Thayer Michael Corrigan get out. The limo got under way and disappeared in traffic. Corrigan was well dressed in a dark suit. He looked around, didn't see who he was looking for, so he took a bench across the plaza from Jake, facing the street, with a young tree behind him. Jake watched his profile. Corrigan ignored the birds and tourists and lovers, glanced at his watch, then crossed his legs.
Corrigan had been sitting there for five minutes when Janos Ilin came walking along the sidewalk that led from the bridge across the Seine to the Left Bank. Jake Grafton saw him first. Ilin glanced his way but gave no sign he recognized him. The Russian walked over to the bench where Corrigan was and sat down beside him.
After they had been talking a moment or two, Jake rose to his feet and walked toward them. There was an empty
bench at right angles behind Corrigan and Ilin, so he made for that and seated himself.
bench at right angles behind Corrigan and Ilin, so he made for that and seated himself.
“ ⦠I need some help from you,” Corrigan was saying. “We've done a lot of business in the past, and I know you are a trustworthy man of utmost discretion.”
“How may I be of service?” Ilin asked in nearly flawless English.
“There are some men in Cairo who must be eliminated. I am willing to pay, of course, a reasonable fee and all expenses. It must be done soon. They killed one of my colleagues, and I am worried that they will try to murder me.”
“What have you done to them?”
“It was a business deal. I can say no more than that. We live in difficult times.”
“Indeed,” said Ilin. “Of course, I would have to know more. Names, addresses if you have them. And it will take some time. These things cannot be arranged overnight.”
“I understand, but there is a time constraint. As I said, they killed my colleague the night before last in Boston.” He forgot to mention the chauffeur, Grafton noted. Corrigan wasn't a man who paid much attention to chauffeurs.
Ilin remarked, “They sound quite determined, and several jumps ahead of you. You may well be too late. I suggest you go to some remote island, hire good men as bodyguards, stay there. Live quietly and they may not find you. Even if they do, you will have fair warning when they come and can defend yourself. Your money will buy you that, which is more than most men get.”
“That's ridiculous,” Corrigan said derisively. “I thought you were a man of the world who could make things happen.”
“Things, yes, but not miracles.”
“For Christ's sake, you have the resources of the SVR at your beck and call. Surely youâ”
“Mr. Corrigan, you have been misinformed. I am here as a private citizen. I represent no one but myself.”
Corrigan didn't understand. “Perhaps we should discuss
money. I am willing to pay a large fee. A very large fee. There are three of them, Abdul Abn Saadâhe's a banker, Walney's Bank in Cairoâa man called Ashruf, and one called Hoqâhe's associated with them, I'm not sure how.”
money. I am willing to pay a large fee. A very large fee. There are three of them, Abdul Abn Saadâhe's a banker, Walney's Bank in Cairoâa man called Ashruf, and one called Hoqâhe's associated with them, I'm not sure how.”
“I know of these men. They have come to my attention in my professional capacity, you understandâgovernments share information. They are Islamic extremists, holy warriors ⦠terrorists. Killing them will not be easy.”
“Of course not. That's why I came to you. Name a price.”
“You're getting ahead of yourself. I have agreed to nothing. Your job would be an expensive undertaking. People would have to be hired, equipped, and put in place, covers created, bribes paid ⦠Are these men in Egypt?”
“Saad is, and Hoq. I have no idea where Ashruf might be found.”
Ilin sighed heavily. “A difficult, laborious, high-risk undertaking, at best. A million American for each of them, at least.”
“Done. Half in advance, half when the job is done.”
“That would be for expenses. The fee would be another million each, if I agree to undertake it.”
Corrigan's head bobbed up and down several times. “Done. Half in advance, half when the job is finished.”
“How do I know you will be able to pay when the job is finished? Aren't the Americans investigating these men?”
“Everyone is, I would imagine.”
“Then you see my difficulty. If by some chance some investigating authority established a link between you and these men, you might be ⦠shall we say, detained. Arrested, perhaps. Indicted. Forced to defend yourself. Surely, Mr. Corrigan, you see how difficult it would be for me to collect if you were incarcerated somewhere and refused to pay after I completed my contract.”
“I am not going to be arrested. The authorities know nothing, and I have an impeccable reputation.”
“It is unfortunate that reputations are not bulletproof, is it not? By chance, are you aware of the name of the man that the American president appointed, ad hoc if you will, to find the warheads the group known as the Sword of Islam purchased in Russia and imported into the United States? He may know that the men you named are part of that group.”
“Iâno, I might have heard his name, butâ”
“Grafton. He's a rear admiral in the United States Navy. Two stars, rank equivalent to a major general in your army or air force. Sometimes he wears a uniform, sometimes he doesn't.”
“I've heard the name. Never met the man.” He had forgotten meeting Jake at the White House.
“Well, allow me to introduce you.” Ilin half turned and gestured. “Thayer Michael Corrigan, Rear Admiral Jacob Lee Grafton.”
Corrigan turned slowly, looked into the cold gray eyes of Jake Grafton, who was staring at him. Corrigan looked back at Ilin, said bitterly, “I thought you were an honorable man.”
Before Ilin could reply, Corrigan arose from the bench and walked away. He disappeared into the crowd in the direction of the Left Bank.
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