“What about Tokyo,” McGarvey said, and the room suddenly went electric. He’d gotten their attention.
“What do you mean?” Murphy asked after a long moment.
“Marquand told me that payments into at least one of the STASI’s Swiss bank accounts were in Japanese yen. Is there a connection? Have you gotten any indications from Tokyo Station that the Japanese might be interested in acquiring nuclear weapons technology?”
“God forbid,” Danielle said. He was old enough to clearly remember Pearl Harbor and the days that had led up to it.
“Phil?” Murphy passed the question to Carrara.
“At this point there doesn’t seem to be any connection between the Japanese and the STASI group, other than the possibility certain payments may have been made into a Swiss bank account in yen. But that currency is strong just now. Wherever they got that funding from, either on their own or through a second party, using yen may have been simply a matter of expediency.”
They were lying, and it was so obvious from their faces and sudden change in attitudes that it was almost ludicrous. But he’d learned what he’d come to learn.
“I’ll stay clear of ModTec for the moment, and concentrate on the bank accounts.
They’ll want to protect their money. But if your people find out something, anything at all, I’ll expect to be told about it.”
“Agreed,” Murphy said.
“I’ll spend a day or two here in Washington, working with Phil and going through what files you can give me.”
“Whatever help we can provide you’ll have. But you must understand that you’re not on anyone’s payroll. If you run into real trouble, we’ll do what we can, but you will be denied.”
“It’s never been any different, General,” McGarvey said, getting to his feet. “Not even in the old days, when I actually was on the payroll.”
Chapter 23
Carrara was as helpful as he could be under the circumstances, but McGarvey believed that the man was working under constraints placed on him by Murphy, probably at Ryan’s insistence.
They spent the afternoon together in operations territory on the third floor, going through the Agency’s background information on the STASI. Ernst Spranger’s name came up at the head of the list of ex-STASI officers whose whereabouts were presently unknown, as did the speculation that the group may have been based somewhere in the south of France.
The information was only useful to the extent that it verified Rencke’s story. But Carrara was definitely holding back not only on the information about the STASI’s bank accounts and possible connections with Japan, but about ModTec, and DuVerlie, the engineer who’d gone down aboard 145. The operational files in many cases had big gaps, especially on the time and contact sheets,
which should have outlined by time and date each contact made with DuVerlie or anyone else from the Swiss high-tech company.
Carrara offered no real explanation, nor did McGarvey question him too closely for the moment. Before he went back to Europe, however, he would have it out with the DDO. The last time McGarvey had worked with the man, Carrara had seemed open, and willing at least to try to help. This time he was definitely reticent.
It was six by the time McGarvey was ready to leave for the day. He figured there was little or nothing he could accomplish here for the moment.
“Where are you staying?” Carrara asked.
“Nearby,” McGarvey said at the door from the DDO’s office. “Don’t have me followed, Phil. If I spot one of your legmen, the deal is off. Clear?”
Carrara nodded.
“And, Phil, if we’re going to get anywhere at all, you’d better convince the general to take off the leash. Tomorrow I’m going to want some answers.”
“What do you mean by that?” Carrara asked, his voice low.
“You understand,” McGarvey said. “It’ll be my ass hanging out in the wind. I want to know the real situation.”
“You have it.”
McGarvey shook his head. “The next time you try to doctor your field officers’ contact sheets you’d better think about filling in the blanks.”
Carrara smiled wanly. He sat back. “You don’t trust anybody, do you?”
“In the old days I did.”
“No one to unburden your soul to now? No one to share your troubles with? No one to help out when you’re stuck?”
“What’s your point, Phil? Am I to kiss and make up with that pissant attorney of Murphy’s? Or let bygones be bygones with Danielle, who, if you’ll look in the history books, was lead man on the headhunters team that kicked me out? Is that what you’re angling for?”
“Might not hurt.”
“It might get me killed.”
Carrara just looked at McGarvey for a long moment. “I guess you’ve had your share…?
“Yes, I have,” McGarvey interrupted, not sure exactly what the DDO was going to say, but not wanting to hear it anyway. “Talk it over with the general, and I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Take care of yourself.”
“I’ll try,” McGarvey said, and he left.
After-work traffic was still heavy by the time McGarvey signed out, turned in his visitor’s passes, and drove off. But most of it was coming out of the city so he made good time despite doubling back twice to insure that he wasn’t being followed.
Carrara might show some restraint, but he didn’t think Ryan would.
By 7:30 he had parked his car in a ramp three blocks from his hotel, had gone up to his room where he reassembled his pistol, took a shower and changed clothes, and was again out on the streets.
Any physical contact with Rencke was out of the question for the moment. Nobody’s tradecraft was good enough to be one hundred percent sure of spotting a sophisticated surveillance operation.
If Ryan or Murphy, or whoever, wanted him badly enough they had the capabilities and the resources to tail him without his awareness: High-flying spotter aircraft with backup ground crews was one way in which it could be done.
Well clear of the hotel McGarvey called Rencke’s number from a pay phone at a service station. He still needed the man’s help.
The number was answered on the second ring. “At the tone leave your name, or come up on the bulletin board, I’m monitoring.” The answering machine beeped.
“Is your line clear?” McGarey asked.
“Is the Pope Catholic?” Rencke answered, laughing. “You’re in the file out there already, but only by number. They want to keep your involvement pretty much on the Q-T. Did you talk to Murphy’s raiders?”
“I just got back, but I’m going to stay clear of you for a moment.”
“Good idea. What’s up?”
“They want me to go after K-1, but the files they showed me were filled with holes.
Which means they’re holding something back.”
“Typical.”
“But there’s no reason for it,” McGarvey said. “At least none I can see. I want you to get back into Operations and find out all you can about ModTec, and DuVerlie.
There’s something going on over there that has the Agency walking on eggshells.”
“I’m in right now,” Rencke said. “Could be they’re trying to hide something, though I’m getting no sense of
