around the document that was supposed to have set her free.
TWENTY-FOUR
They shoved Nat through a door and onto an elevator. He was still hooded, but each extra second without a gunshot or a blow to the head made him dare to hope that something other than the worst lay ahead. Why go to the trouble to take him into this building unless something besides an execution awaited?
They stepped off the elevator into a hallway with lights so bright they even penetrated the gloom of the hood. His escorts maintained their silence. He wasn’t sure how many were still with him, other than the ones at either side, gripping his forearms.
“Just ahead?” one muttered.
“Yes. It’s supposed to be unlocked.”
They stopped. A doorknob clicked. They led him inside, then a hand loosened the drawstring. The hood tickled past his nose and came free. Nat took a fresh breath of cool air and blinked into the brightness. As his eyes adjusted to the light he saw he was in an office, standing at a desk. Seated behind the desk was Clark Holland.
Nat exhaled loudly, almost laughing in relief. He had never been this happy to see anyone, although it was clear from Holland’s face that the feeling wasn’t mutual.
The escorts quickly disappeared, shutting the door behind them. Holland didn’t even bother to say thanks.
“Maybe now I can finally get an update,” Holland said. “What happened to your arm?”
Nat began to shiver. The sweat on his back felt like melted snow, and his legs were limp. He looked down at his arm and saw that the bleeding had stopped.
“There was a knife. What the hell just happened? Who were those guys?”
“BfV, most likely. German domestic intelligence. But when I ask for help from the Germans I’m not exactly picky, so who knows for sure? Could even be contract employees. Effective, though, judging from the results.”
“They hooded me.”
“I noticed.”
“They scared the hell out of me, if you really want to know.”
“They have their own way of doing things. I don’t question their tactics as long as they produce the desired results. In exchange they sometimes offer the same courtesy to me, especially when I’m operating on their turf. You look like you could use a drink. I’m afraid all we have is water.” He shouted toward an open door to an adjoining room. “Neil? Come take care of our visitor, please.”
Neil Ford, the young agent who had tracked him down in the university library, came bounding around the corner with a first aid kit, a schoolboy grin, and an open bottle of Volvic mineral water.
“Hi, Dr. Turnbull.” Like they’d just run into each other at the mall.
“Just super to see you, Neil.”
“Same here!”
“I think Dr. Turnbull’s being sarcastic, Neil.”
“Oh.”
“Glad I’m not the only one who hasn’t lost his sense of irony,” Nat said. He was still pleasantly amazed to be in one piece, but his relief was giving way to anger.
“I wouldn’t complain if I were you, considering what almost happened.”
“Me dying, you mean?”
“Oh, he wasn’t going to kill you.”
“Comforting that you’re so sure. Then what did he want?”
“Same as me, I’d imagine. An update on your progress. Names, dates, whatever you’ve found out. You know, the things you’re supposed to be reporting every day.”
“You killed him for that?”
“Please.
“Are you officially even here?”
“Do you really expect an answer? Drink some water, then I’ll explain. Although you may want a second bottle before I’m finished. Just pretend it’s Gordon Wolfe’s cognac and the news shouldn’t bother you at all.”
“That bad?”
“Qurashi was a persuasive man. If he’d ever gotten a chance to sit you down for a confidential chat, just the two of you, you might have told him anything.”
“You knew his name?”
“Saeed Qurashi. Iranian national. Contract employee of MOIS, the Ministry of Intelligence and Security. He’s been following you since Zurich, more or less. One of his pals in the U.S. stole your cell phone.”
“The one who called Karen? If she’s in any way-”
“Relax. I told you, she’s covered. Even better than you were just now.”
“This Qurashi. I think I saw him in Bern, dressed like a housekeeper in the hotel. He may have copied the files off my laptop.”
“You might have reported that, you know. But as it happens, we already knew. Did it occur to you that your friend Berta might have invited you up to her room expressly so he could do that?”
“You really think so?”
“We’re not sure what to think about her. But that’s a topic for later. Qurashi was an agent, but he’s better known as an interrogator. A good one. Meaning a bad one.”
“I thought ‘enhanced techniques’ weren’t really torture anymore?”
“I’m not talking about something as tame as waterboarding. Not that you’d find it tame, but Qurashi wasn’t equipped for it. Care to see what the BfV found in his hotel room?”
Holland hefted a large shopping bag onto the desk with a heavy clank. First he pulled out a pair of electrical clamps hooked up to wires.
“God knows what these are supposed to attach to.”
Nat locked his knees. Holland dug into the bag again.
“Looks like he had an AC adapter for every specification. Careful traveler, our man Qurashi. Prepared for outlets of all nations. But I’ve saved the best for last.”
Holland held aloft a blowtorch attached to a canister of propane.
“Believe me, he wasn’t planning on using this to make creme brulee. As I said, he was very persuasive.”
“I get the picture.”
“Yes, well, in case you need a further reminder of what’s at stake-Neil, could you bring me those intercepts?”
Neil Ford emerged again from the back, this time with a manila folder. He pointedly avoided looking at Nat as he handed it to Holland, who slid the folder across the desk.
“NSA intercepts, all from the past week. Most of these calls are between Qurashi and a control in Berlin, who we still haven’t identified, by the way, so don’t feel too damn smug. Take a look.”
“Who’s ‘Gateway’?” Nat asked.
“MOIS code name for Bauer. ‘Ferret’ is you.”
“ ‘Ferret’?”
“I’m told it’s a compliment. Read on.”
All his recent movements were detailed. So was an order, issued the previous day via the Berlin control, to “retrieve Ferret for questioning. Use all means at your disposal.”
“Does Bauer know this is happening?”
“He certainly wouldn’t have any objection. The more intense the competition, the more likely he gets what he wants. He may have his own people out there looking as well. He claims otherwise, of course, and the German government has ordered us to keep our hands off him if we want their continued cooperation. Which is why it would
