Toyota.
The girl was probably not important, but he’d been taught to keep an open mind, especially when it came to Americans, and those around them. “They are a crude, bellicose and unpredictable people,” he’d been warned. It was true.
Mowry’s driver, a Japanese contract employee, knew the city well, and in less than ten minutes he pulled up in front of a sprawling three-story apartment building near the Imperial Palace’s broad Sakurada Moat.
The Toyota made a sudden U-turn and parked directly across the street, leaving Igarshi no other choice but to continue beyond.
Mowry had already gotten out of the car, and the girl was just climbing out at that moment. Her eyes locked with Igarshi’s for an instant, and then he was past.
Around the corner, thirty yards away, he hurriedly parked his motorcycle and rushed back to where he could see the front entrance of the apartment building. Mowry and the girl were going inside, and the Lincoln was leaving. But the Toyota remained.
Igarshi pulled off the paper air filter that covered his face, and wiped his mouth.
For just that split second he thought he’d seen a hint of recognition on the girl’s face. But that was not likely.
Killing Mowry, he thought, would be even more interesting than the first one, because this time they would have to take out the two Americans in the Toyota, as well as the girl.
Chapter 26
McGarvey called Rencke’s number from a pay phone downtown near the White House a few minutes before eight in the morning. He’d expected it to ring a long time, because Rencke would be in bed asleep by now. But it was answered immediately.
“Yes!”
“It’s me,” McGarvey said. Rencke had sounded breathless.
“Listen, Mac. All hell is breaking loose. I mean the shit has really happened. So it’s up to you, but I say run and don’t look back. The bastards want you. And listen, if you want my guess, I’d say it has something to do with Tokyo. They’re killing people out there.”
“Is your line still clear?”
“They’re killing people out there, aren’t you listening?”
“Is your line clear?” McGarvey repeated the question slowly. He could envision Rencke bouncing off the walls.
“Yes, yes! Clear, clear! But I don’t know for how long.” “Calm down, Otto, and tell me what’s going on. Did you pick
something off the computer?”
“Hoo, boy, you betcha I did. The jackpot. On Friday, Tokyo time, which makes it …
I don’t know, Thursday or Saturday or something here, the friggin’ chief of Tokyo Station was assassinated. Everybody went bananas over there and over here and everywhere.
They red-lighted the thing.”
“Who killed him?”
“Nobody knows. The Japs, apparently. Two of them in masks and hardhats. We got the masks and one of the hats at Yokosuka doing a DNA search. But now it looks as if the assistant chief of station has been targeted. Operations has evidently fielded a blind asset who got cold feet, or something.”
“Is anyone making a connection between Tokyo and K-l?” McGarvey asked.
“If they are, they’re not logging it in operational files. But the situation has definitely got their attention. Nuclear triggers from the Swiss. K-l’s Swiss bank account loaded with yen. It’s got to make somebody wonder. Operations has nixed your Swiss trip. It’s already in housekeeping. I’d say, run.”
“I can’t. I’m already in too deep.”
“Aren’t we all,” Rencke said.
“I’m going to need more help from you, Otto. If you’re willing to stick with it.”
“Tall orders or short orders?”
“Very tall.”
“May have to go to pink,” Rencke said, but McGarvey didn’t catch the meaning.
“I need to find out two things. First if there have been any incidents involving the theft of fissionable material, enough to make a bomb, or the theft of initiators.
Anywhere in the world.”
“At any given time there’s a half ton or more of plutonium missing. And it only takes seventy pounds or so to make a big bang. But you want to know if any of these incidents have any ties, however remote, with K-l, or especially with the Japanese. Right?”
“Right,” McGarvey said. “And secondly … I don’t know how you’re even going to get started on this one, but, assuming that the Japanese are interested in getting their hands on nuclear weapons technology, or better yet the actual item, and assuming that the Japanese government itself is not involved, I want to know what Japanese interest group, military faction, or even private concern or corporation, would have the most to gain from such a project.”
“We’re talking big bucks. Major yen.”
“That could be a start. Whoever it is would have to have the expertise to make contact with Spranger and his group. Maybe someone with East German ties.”
“Or from the War,” Rencke suggested. “Germany and Japan were allies.”
“Yes,” McGarvey said. “See what you can do.”
“Okay. And thanks for the Twinkies.”
One of Carrara’s people met McGarvey downstairs and escorted him up to Operations on the third floor. There was a buzz of activity, and everyone seemed more animated than usual; on edge, in a hurry.
The DDO was just emerging from the briefing auditorium and he led McGarvey the rest of the way into his office. “We’re putting Switzerland on the back burner for the moment. We’ll let our assets already in place handle it. The general wants to know if you’re interested in taking on an assignment in Japan.”
“I don’t know. I’ll have to talk to him, and then think it over.”
“No time,” Carrara said. “I’ve got a private jet standing by at Andrews for you.
It’ll get you to Tokyo via Seattle and then the Aleutians first thing this morning…
Tokyo time. You can catch up on your reading on the way over.”
“Does this have any connection with the STASI group? I asked about the Japanese connection yesterday.”
“Frankly I don’t know, Kirk. And that’s the truth. I just hope to God it doesn’t have a connection. The Japanese and nuclear weapons is a thought I’d rather not dwell on.”
McGarvey held off for a long moment. Carrara was agitated. He wanted the man to focus his attention on what was being said.
“I’ll probably take your assignment, Phil, but of course I’ll need to know what’s expected of me, and I still want to know what you were holding back yesterday.”
Carrara looked at him bleakly, as if he were a man who knew he’d just been backed into a corner. “The two things may be mutually exclusive.”
McGarvey said nothing.
The DDO started to reach for the phone, but then stayed his hand. “Which do you want first?”
“Orly.”
Carrara nodded, as if he’d known that subject would be first. “DuVerlie was a snitch.
He was going to show us where a fellow ModTec engineer was buried so that we would believe the fantastic story he was trying to sell us. He wanted a lot of money. I mean a lot of money.”
“We’re still talking about nuclear switches?”
