why he left, though. So whatever you did
for him must be for the new organization where he works.” The smile returned to
Lazarus’s face.
Doerr
was now sure Samuel didn’t really work for the CIA. But then who did he work
for?
When
Doerr had left voicemail for Lazarus, he had told him only that he did some operations
in Bangkok and London for Samuel. He hadn’t mentioned about the DEA administrator;
he couldn’t. “I’m worried, Lazarus. What I did for him in London and Bangkok
was illegal if he wasn’t authorized by the CIA.”
Lazarus
sat up straight. His large belly touched the table. “Where exactly did you work
for him?” he asked with a gloomy face.
“One
was in London, and one in Bangkok,” Doerr said.
“I
know that. Where exactly in Bangkok and London?”
“In
Bangkok, it was in Sukumvit area. In London, it was in Maida Vale,” Doerr said
and realized that when he worked for Samuel, he had always worked through
Samuel and never really worked directly with anyone else at the CIA. When he
needed the CIA techies to do something for him, he had passed the request
through Samuel and got the result through Samuel as well. The report on what
happened to the Jordanian terrorist came through Samuel’s mouth only.
“I
can’t really help you on this, Max. Maybe you should contact the police.”
“Police?
You must be joking.”
“I
am not joking, Max. You left the agency on your own volition a long time ago, and
now I have no relationship with you. I won’t be able to provide any kind of
help,” Lazarus said and turned his face away.
Doerr
knew the conversation was nearing its end. “Come on, Lazarus, help me. I worked
for you – and the agency – for thirteen years. I risked my life to bring
down those bad guys. You gotta help me track down Samuel and see what he was up
to.”
“First
of all, you did not work for me for thirteen years. Maybe you did for the
agency, but not me. And secondly, it would be illegal for me to help you in any
way.”
“Illegal?
Come on!”
“Listen,
Max, there’s nothing I can do for you,” Lazarus said with a touch of anger and
shook his head. “How did you get in here, anyway?”
Doerr
stood up and walked out without answering. He had worked for Lazarus for so
many years, and this was what he got in return. He was livid that he had come
to Lazarus, who was his last chance, and had been rebuffed like a street dog.
Now he could do only one thing – take matters into his own hands.
He
thought of calling Gayle but decided not to. He didn’t want to pass his pain to
the person he loved most. He went back to his car and turned the music system
to some dance music and drove to the highway. But it didn’t calm him, so he
headed for the nearest gas station to pick up a pack of Marlboro.
Chapter 9
Doerr
drove at more than eighty miles an hour on Highway I-95 South. He knew that
Samuel had lived in an old apartment in Richmond, and that was where Doerr was
headed. Samuel might have moved out, but it was worth a shot.
When
he reached the Green Knoll apartment complex in Richmond, it was 3 p.m. The
complex must have had at least a hundred units. The connecting roads were
empty. Doerr passed the kids’ playground that had a seesaw and a slide, but no
kids were playing there. He drove on and passed two deep brown painted
buildings, and then he stopped at the third one. Unit 2C, where Samuel used to
live, was on the second floor. Doerr got out of the car, glanced at the purple
daisies on the ground, and headed for the stairs.
He
went upstairs and wiggled the doorknob of apartment 2C. It was locked. Samuel might
be out. He looked for a spare key under the doormat but found nothing. He went
back downstairs and walked through the dingy hallway to the other side of the
building. Now the building was on his right, and the perfectly mowed green
pasture lay to his left. The apartment had a balcony; nobody was around, and Doerr
started thinking about
for him must be for the new organization where he works.” The smile returned to
Lazarus’s face.
Doerr
was now sure Samuel didn’t really work for the CIA. But then who did he work
for?
When
Doerr had left voicemail for Lazarus, he had told him only that he did some operations
in Bangkok and London for Samuel. He hadn’t mentioned about the DEA administrator;
he couldn’t. “I’m worried, Lazarus. What I did for him in London and Bangkok
was illegal if he wasn’t authorized by the CIA.”
Lazarus
sat up straight. His large belly touched the table. “Where exactly did you work
for him?” he asked with a gloomy face.
“One
was in London, and one in Bangkok,” Doerr said.
“I
know that. Where exactly in Bangkok and London?”
“In
Bangkok, it was in Sukumvit area. In London, it was in Maida Vale,” Doerr said
and realized that when he worked for Samuel, he had always worked through
Samuel and never really worked directly with anyone else at the CIA. When he
needed the CIA techies to do something for him, he had passed the request
through Samuel and got the result through Samuel as well. The report on what
happened to the Jordanian terrorist came through Samuel’s mouth only.
“I
can’t really help you on this, Max. Maybe you should contact the police.”
“Police?
You must be joking.”
“I
am not joking, Max. You left the agency on your own volition a long time ago, and
now I have no relationship with you. I won’t be able to provide any kind of
help,” Lazarus said and turned his face away.
Doerr
knew the conversation was nearing its end. “Come on, Lazarus, help me. I worked
for you – and the agency – for thirteen years. I risked my life to bring
down those bad guys. You gotta help me track down Samuel and see what he was up
to.”
“First
of all, you did not work for me for thirteen years. Maybe you did for the
agency, but not me. And secondly, it would be illegal for me to help you in any
way.”
“Illegal?
Come on!”
“Listen,
Max, there’s nothing I can do for you,” Lazarus said with a touch of anger and
shook his head. “How did you get in here, anyway?”
Doerr
stood up and walked out without answering. He had worked for Lazarus for so
many years, and this was what he got in return. He was livid that he had come
to Lazarus, who was his last chance, and had been rebuffed like a street dog.
Now he could do only one thing – take matters into his own hands.
He
thought of calling Gayle but decided not to. He didn’t want to pass his pain to
the person he loved most. He went back to his car and turned the music system
to some dance music and drove to the highway. But it didn’t calm him, so he
headed for the nearest gas station to pick up a pack of Marlboro.
Chapter 9
Doerr
drove at more than eighty miles an hour on Highway I-95 South. He knew that
Samuel had lived in an old apartment in Richmond, and that was where Doerr was
headed. Samuel might have moved out, but it was worth a shot.
When
he reached the Green Knoll apartment complex in Richmond, it was 3 p.m. The
complex must have had at least a hundred units. The connecting roads were
empty. Doerr passed the kids’ playground that had a seesaw and a slide, but no
kids were playing there. He drove on and passed two deep brown painted
buildings, and then he stopped at the third one. Unit 2C, where Samuel used to
live, was on the second floor. Doerr got out of the car, glanced at the purple
daisies on the ground, and headed for the stairs.
He
went upstairs and wiggled the doorknob of apartment 2C. It was locked. Samuel might
be out. He looked for a spare key under the doormat but found nothing. He went
back downstairs and walked through the dingy hallway to the other side of the
building. Now the building was on his right, and the perfectly mowed green
pasture lay to his left. The apartment had a balcony; nobody was around, and Doerr
started thinking about
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