The Scorpio Illusion (73 page)
Read The Scorpio Illusion Online
Authors: Robert Ludlum
It had been 2:48 in the morning when Hawthorne left General Michael Meyers’s condominium complex in Arlington, Virginia. As he started out the exit drive, he pulled the recorder from his inside jacket pocket, relieved to see that the tiny red light was still on; he rewound the tape for several seconds, pressed the replay button, and heard their voices. His foot automatically bore down heavily on the accelerator; it was at once a gesture of exhilaration as well as of genuine desire to reach the Shenandoah Lodge as quickly as possible. Everything had worked; he had nearly two hours’ worth of taped conversation between himself and the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff—between himself and the last elite Scorpio.
Meyers had studied him when he first arrived, his gaze a mixture of grudging respect and fury, as a powerful man might observe the corpse of an adversary who could prove more dangerous dead than alive. Tyrell knew the type only too well; they were in abundance in Amsterdam, forever jockeying for the strategic kill, none
without immense egos. And Hawthorne had appealed to Maximum Mike’s ego, relentlessly playing to it, until, finally, Meyers’s gargantuan sense of self could not be denied. The obsequious admirer asking him questions was a worshiping idiot; he could say whatever he liked with impunity, the reverent interrogator his first line of defense, should a defense ever be needed.
The general needed that defense more than he realized, thought Tyrell, turning into the highway. Hawthorne knew that the moment the general’s aide opened the door to admit him. On first glance, the heavy subordinate was not unlike the military aide Tyrell had seen from the dark foyer of the Ingersols’ house, but he was not the same man. He was someone else. A killer had been excused.
Hawthorne drove into the Shenandoah Lodge’s parking lot at 3:30. Two minutes later he walked into the room where Poole sat wide awake at the desk, the miniaturized electronic equipment in front of him.
“Any word on Cathy?” asked Tyrell.
“Not since we spoke a few hours ago, and I’ve called a half dozen times.”
“You said she moved a leg. That meant something, didn’t it?”
“That’s what they said at first, now they’re not saying anythin’ except to tell me not to call again, that they’ll call me. So to stop from thinkin’, I’ve been messing around with Langley.”
“What do you mean, messing around?”
“Someone picked up your transponder, and it’s drivin’ the grid-kids crazy. They keep calling me, asking if we’re in touch, and I say sure, every now and then, and they want to know why you stopped at Wilmington, Delaware, and then drove to New Jersey?”
“What did you tell them?”
“That the air force obviously has far more accurate equipment than they do, that I thought you were on your way to Georgia.”
“Don’t mess anymore; and if they call again, tell them the truth—I’m here and we have work to do. Which we do.”
“The tape?” Poole’s eyes widened.
“Get us both some paper so we can take notes.” Hawthorne had rewound the tape in the car; he placed the recorder on the bureau. “Here we go,” he added as the lieutenant brought them both a legal pad from the supplies on the coffee table, and Tyrell walked to the bed, cautiously lowering himself against the pillows.
“How’s your head?” Poole broke in, stopping the recorder and taking it to the desk.
“Palisser’s maid threw a box of gauze and a roll of tape over it. Now turn that damn thing back on, and I’ll keep my hat where it is.” The two men listened in silence to the taped conversation; it lasted an hour and twenty-three minutes. Each took notes, and when it was over, each had specific sections he wished to re-hear.
“You’re very good at what you do, Commander,” said Poole admiringly. “For a couple of minutes I thought you were real partial to Attila the Hun.”
“Some of it’s coming back, Lieutenant. Not enough, but some.… Come on, let’s keep going.”
“Okay, we’ll take the segments in sequence from the beginning. I’ll skip from one to another, ’cause I sketched out the areas of discovery and know where they are.”
“What the hell are you now, a lawyer?”
“Oh, the pity. My daddy wanted me to be, just like him, but—”
“Spare me,” Tyrell interrupted. “Just turn it on.”
(H
AWTHORNE
)
Was there anyone at the Ingersols’ tonight who you didn’t expect to see, sir, someone who perhaps surprised you
?
(M
EYERS
)
That’s difficult to answer, Mr. Hawthorne. For starters, it was damn crowded and
the lights weren’t that bright—those candles on the buffet tables were the only source actually, but then, I restrict eating between meals, so I wasn’t there. A soldier may travel on his belly, but not if it’s too full, right
?
(H
AWTHORNE
)
Absolutely, sir. But was there anyone who stood out in your mind as you think back? I’m told you have an incredible memory. Your tactics against the Cong, I’ve been told, were based on aerial photographs no one else remembered
.
(M
EYERS
)
Quite true, quite true, but then, I always had my aides, I won’t short them.… Yes, come to think of it, there were several members of the Senate whose presence did astonish me. Politically quite far to the left, if you read me, and it was common knowledge that David Ingersol was a friend to the Pentagon
.
(H
AWTHORNE
)
Could you be more specific, General
?
(M
EYERS
)
Yes, I can. That senator from Iowa, the one who keeps whining that the farmers are sacrificed for defense allocations, when who has more subsidies than the farm belts? He was, as usual, pontificating in that Midwest-deacon’s pose of his. Also a couple of other lefties whose names I can’t recall, but I’ll go over the congressional albums and I’ll call you
.
(H
AWTHORNE
)
That’d be a great help, sir
.
(M
EYERS
)
I’m not sure how
.
(H
AWTHORNE
)
Anything unexpected is a plus, General. Such people could be throwing off suspicion by their presence. We’ve heard there’s dissension in the ranks of the Bajaratt conspiracy
.
(M
EYERS
, interrupting)
There … is
?
(H
AWTHORNE
)
It’s spreading. Within days, perhaps hours, we’ll have names
.
(M
EYERS
)
That sounds incredible. Commander.… God knows I hope you’re right
.
“Okay, that’s the first one,” said Poole, shutting off the recorder. “Any comment? I didn’t choose it, you did, Tye.”
“Because I was inside, watching from a corner in the hallway, and saw Meyers eating up a storm at the buffet table. There was no light problem for him; those candles were very bright, and there were sconces on the walls. As to whom he saw, I didn’t care, I just wanted to see the types he put down so I could agree with him.”
“And throw a little scare into him about dissension in Bajaratt’s ranks?” said Poole, grinning.
“These days they call it psych-imbalance, Lieutenant. I call it shoving a small poker up his ass. Let’s hear the second.”
“It’s short, but I think it’s hog-wild, and you did too.”
(H
AWTHORNE
)
Did David Ingersol, who we now know was a traitor and dealing with Little Girl Blood, ever give you bad advice in your dealings with contractors
?
(M
EYERS
)
By Christ, I certainly questioned a number of his legal decisions! Of course I’m not an attorney, but something smelled, I can tell you that
!
(H
AWTHORNE
)
Did you follow up on your objections, sir
?
(M
EYERS
)
I certainly did! Orally, if not in reports. Good God, he was a golfing partner of the President
!
“Perfect obfuscation,” said Poole. “Nobody can establish nuthin’ ‘orally.’ ”
“Agreed,” agreed Tye. “Next, please.”
“Also short, and we both caught it.”
(H
AWTHORNE
)
Edward White, Ingersol’s partner, told us that he asked you if you knew anything about a State Department investigation into David Ingersol’s affairs. Certainly you must have, General, because you constantly monitor the Little Girl Blood progress reports on the confidential equipment
—
(M
EYERS
)
What’s your question
?
(H
AWTHORNE
)
It’s not a question, sir, merely a thank-you for handling a deep-cover situation so well. Lesser men would have fallen into the trap
.
(M
EYERS
)
Of revealing max-security information? Not on any staff of mine, I’d have the bastard shot. Of course I knew about it, but no one would hear it from me
.
“That’s a bingo,” Tyrell said. “I was off the books, so it was never sent out. Palisser got me the papers but kept everything quiet.”
“That’s why I picked it up.” Poole nodded. “Let’s go on to the next one, okay?”
(M
EYERS
)
What do you think really happened here, Commander
?
(H
AWTHORNE
)
I can show you what happened to me, sir. You can see the top of my head, General. It’s not pretty, but here it is
.
(M
EYERS
)
Terrible, simply terrible—of course I’ve seen a lot worse, but that was combat-oriented, not at a suburban wake, for God’s sake
!
(H
AWTHORNE
)
You were the finest combat officer in the army
.
(M
EYERS
)
No, son, my boys were the finest
—
(H
AWTHORNE
)
Your modesty is exceptional for a man with your record
.
(M
EYERS
)
One shouldn’t blow one’s horn, especially when others blow it for you, right
?
(H
AWTHORNE
)
Again, so right, sir.… But someone shot Richard Ingersol and attacked me in the garden before I could see who it was, and we’ve got to find out who
!
(M
EYERS
, interrupting)
You should have had Ranger training, Commander. Except for the SEALs, I don’t imagine you get much of that in the navy. On the other hand, I heard you had a pretty close call down in the islands, running down the Little Girl. I gather two former spook colleagues of yours were killed, a Brit and a Frenchman, but you got out of it. You must be pretty talented yourself, Commander
—
“Hold it, Jackson,” said Tyrell, leaning forward in his chair as Poole stopped the recorder. “I wanted to make sure I heard it right. I did and it’s another bingo. At no time did London or Paris acknowledge that Cooke or Ardisonne was attached to MI-6 or the Deuxième. Meyers got that information from the Scorpio network. Washington never mentioned it in the Bajaratt progress reports; we don’t talk about allied intelligence personnel and they don’t talk about ours.”
“One more nail in the Maximum’s pine box,” noted Poole. “Now, let’s peel away a couple of layers of the general’s psyche. We both chose this one ’cause it makes for one scary psychological profile. You did a hell of a job here, Tye.… Here we go.”
(H
AWTHORNE
)
Your service record, sir, is the top of the military, the envy and the glory of every soldier who’s ever served this nation
—
(M
EYERS
, interrupting)
That’s very kind of you, but, as I have said, I was never alone. Even in the torture crates and tiger holes of the Viet Cong, I knew I had the American people supporting me. I never lost that faith
.
(H
AWTHORNE
)
Then, General—and this is a personal question, having nothing to do with tonight—how can you accept the stripping of the military down to the bare bones? I ask you this as a great admirer of yours
.
(M
EYERS
)
It won’t happen! It can’t happen! There are intercontinental ballistic missiles pointed at our shores from all points of the globe! We must arm and rearm! The Soviets may be finished, but others have taken their place. Rearm, for the love of God, rearm! Take us back to where we were
!
(H
AWTHORNE
)
I agree, of course, sir, but how can it be done? The politicians in both parties are demanding cuts, promising the country a “peace-dividend,” mainly from defense
.
(M
EYERS
, voice lowered)
How can it be done? Let me tell you, Commander, and now we’re talking just between ourselves—okay, okay
?
(H
AWTHORNE
)
On my oath as a naval officer—under God and you, General
.
(M
EYERS
, voice barely audible)
We must first destabilize, Hawthorne, alarm the nation, let it know there are enemies everywhere! And once alarmed, we resume our rightful place as the guardians of the country
.
(H
AWTHORNE
)
What kind of alarm, sir? Against what
?
(M
EYERS
)
Against the inevitable in a torn society ravaged by undesirables and malcontents. We must be strong and fill the void with leadership
.
“He’d be a joke,” said Poole, turning off the recorder. “A real comedian if he had a sense of humor. Instead, he’s one grotesque son of a bitch.”
“He’s paranoid,” Tyrell added quietly. “The perfect, dedicated Scorpio for the Providers. Not only are his bank accounts filled—though he probably doesn’t give much of a damn about that—but he really believes his dreams of right-through-might are within reach. What’s so frightening is that it could happen in seconds, with a single bullet or a grenade, fired or thrown by someone we can’t find, someone who’s dedicated her entire life to this one kill.
Where
… where
is
she?”
33
