take the chance.” Lifting his chin. “No, honey. They think he’s made provisions about what happens when he dies, and they’re not happy about it.”
“Who’s they?” she demanded.
The old spymaster ignored her.
“We’ve done what we can to check, of course. But Jericho was once the best, and he’s still very good. Every time we think we’ve found his footprints, they turn out to be a wisp.” He saw her puzzlement. “A term from the old days of the Agency. It means a false trail, planted to fool investigators. Jericho was always very good at planting wisps, Rebecca. He once arranged to have Soviet Intelligence send operatives to London to assassinate one of their own best men, who they thought had turned. To this day, they’re still fooled.”
“I don’t believe it.”
“The London story? Good.” He sipped his coffee. “It’s better if you don’t. I wouldn’t want you spreading it around.”
“What I mean is, I don’t believe you can’t find whatever it is he’s hidden. You’re the Central Intelligence Agency. You were. You’re the CIA, and you have a whole alphabet soup to help you, right? FBI, NSA, DOD, I don’t know who else. You have secret prisons, right? Mental hospitals, interrogation centers. Undisclosed locations. Why don’t you just swoop down in your helicopters, gather him up, take him to one of your undisclosed locations, and make him tell you? Are you trying to tell me that the combined resources of the United States government can’t find what one little old man has hidden somewhere?”
At last the surface calm faded. Dak’s anger was swift and stormy, even though Beck suspected it was not directed at her. “You’re naïve, Rebecca. You have the press-eye-view of what we do. Let me tell you the facts of life. Number one, even if we possessed the facilities you mention, we can’t just sweep up the former Director of Central Intelligence and Secretary of Defense and lock him away somewhere. As the consultants would say, it creates all the wrong incentives. Your people start to wonder which one of them is going to be next, and all of a sudden they’re not as loyal to you as they were yesterday. Number two, suppose we did. Suppose we put him in a hospital somewhere and pumped him full of drugs. Interrogated him till he vomited his knowledge onto the floor. He’s sick, Rebecca. He’s sick and he’s sixty-six years old. We’d be more likely to kill him than get information. And number three—”
He hesitated. Say it , Beck urged silently, wanting Dak to be the man she had always taken him for. Say he’s your friend. Say friends don’t do that sort of thing to each other. Say you’ve been holding off the dogs .
“Number three,” he resumed, “if Jericho Ainsley were to disappear, well, for all we know, that would set off whatever chain of events he’s arranged. No, Rebecca. Jericho is untouchable. He knows it, and they know it.” The calmness settled on him once more. “I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking the autobiography is what everybody’s looking for. I’m sure it isn’t. Jericho is too canny. You’ve been at the house all of twenty-four hours. He won’t be ready to trust you. He asked you to help him so you’d come running to me. He was testing you, that’s all.”
“And I failed,” she said. Then she saw the real point. “But if it doesn’t mean anything, then why did you tell me the rest of the story?”
“I told you this afternoon, Rebecca. You need to keep your eyes open. And not just that.” He leaned forward, folding large hands around his cup. “You see, Rebecca, the trouble is, there are lots and lots of interested parties. We’ve figured out that somebody up here is helping him, and that’s about it. You’re the most recent arrival. You’re his one true love. The one he’s kept tabs on all these years. It won’t be easy persuading people that you’re not a part of whatever he’s up to. You’re about to
“Who’s they?” she demanded.
The old spymaster ignored her.
“We’ve done what we can to check, of course. But Jericho was once the best, and he’s still very good. Every time we think we’ve found his footprints, they turn out to be a wisp.” He saw her puzzlement. “A term from the old days of the Agency. It means a false trail, planted to fool investigators. Jericho was always very good at planting wisps, Rebecca. He once arranged to have Soviet Intelligence send operatives to London to assassinate one of their own best men, who they thought had turned. To this day, they’re still fooled.”
“I don’t believe it.”
“The London story? Good.” He sipped his coffee. “It’s better if you don’t. I wouldn’t want you spreading it around.”
“What I mean is, I don’t believe you can’t find whatever it is he’s hidden. You’re the Central Intelligence Agency. You were. You’re the CIA, and you have a whole alphabet soup to help you, right? FBI, NSA, DOD, I don’t know who else. You have secret prisons, right? Mental hospitals, interrogation centers. Undisclosed locations. Why don’t you just swoop down in your helicopters, gather him up, take him to one of your undisclosed locations, and make him tell you? Are you trying to tell me that the combined resources of the United States government can’t find what one little old man has hidden somewhere?”
At last the surface calm faded. Dak’s anger was swift and stormy, even though Beck suspected it was not directed at her. “You’re naïve, Rebecca. You have the press-eye-view of what we do. Let me tell you the facts of life. Number one, even if we possessed the facilities you mention, we can’t just sweep up the former Director of Central Intelligence and Secretary of Defense and lock him away somewhere. As the consultants would say, it creates all the wrong incentives. Your people start to wonder which one of them is going to be next, and all of a sudden they’re not as loyal to you as they were yesterday. Number two, suppose we did. Suppose we put him in a hospital somewhere and pumped him full of drugs. Interrogated him till he vomited his knowledge onto the floor. He’s sick, Rebecca. He’s sick and he’s sixty-six years old. We’d be more likely to kill him than get information. And number three—”
He hesitated. Say it , Beck urged silently, wanting Dak to be the man she had always taken him for. Say he’s your friend. Say friends don’t do that sort of thing to each other. Say you’ve been holding off the dogs .
“Number three,” he resumed, “if Jericho Ainsley were to disappear, well, for all we know, that would set off whatever chain of events he’s arranged. No, Rebecca. Jericho is untouchable. He knows it, and they know it.” The calmness settled on him once more. “I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking the autobiography is what everybody’s looking for. I’m sure it isn’t. Jericho is too canny. You’ve been at the house all of twenty-four hours. He won’t be ready to trust you. He asked you to help him so you’d come running to me. He was testing you, that’s all.”
“And I failed,” she said. Then she saw the real point. “But if it doesn’t mean anything, then why did you tell me the rest of the story?”
“I told you this afternoon, Rebecca. You need to keep your eyes open. And not just that.” He leaned forward, folding large hands around his cup. “You see, Rebecca, the trouble is, there are lots and lots of interested parties. We’ve figured out that somebody up here is helping him, and that’s about it. You’re the most recent arrival. You’re his one true love. The one he’s kept tabs on all these years. It won’t be easy persuading people that you’re not a part of whatever he’s up to. You’re about to
Similar Books
