were just outside the aircraft. Captain Reid would have slowed to one hundred twenty knots or so, but still the jet noise and the pressure of the wind on his legs were intense.
At “Five, one thousand”—Clark had to shout it so the others could hear — Hicks let go of Clark’s harness, and Sherman did the same, but she followed it with a quick squeeze on his shoulder.
At “Three, one thousand” he backed farther out into the dark, cold wind. It was tough doing this backward, but headfirst would have been dangerous, and feet-first, scooting out on his butt or back, would have increased the chances that his chute rig would catch on something inside the aircraft.
“One, one thousand. Go!” Clark pushed his body out of the aircraft; immediately he felt his right side slam against the threshold of the external baggage door, bruising his ribs. But he fell away and free of the Gulfstream as it raced off in the night toward the lights of Berlin in the distance, leaving behind John Clark as he turned end over end, spinning downward toward fields of winter wheat some seven thousand feet below.
46
The oval table in the conference room on the ninth floor of Hendley Associates was ringed with stern-faced men that Thursday morning. Sam Driscoll’s and John Clark’s seats were empty, but Domingo, Dominic, and Jack faced Gerry Hendley and Sam Granger. Rick Bell, Campus chief of analysis, begged off the meeting because he weas focusing his energies on analyzing CIA and FBI traffic regarding the Clark investigation.
Gerry assented to Bell’s request, as it was in everyone’s best interest that they got some sort of heads-up in the event black trucks full of FBI tactical officers were on their way to the front door of their building.
For the past two days, Hendley Associates had been open for business, but the operators and much of the intelligence-analysis staff had been instructed to stay home. Instead the company functioned as a perfectly aboveboard trading and arbitrage shop, in case any of the intelligence the government was using in its sealed indictment on Clark also included information tipping off investigators about the real reasons behind Hendley Associates.
When no one came knocking on Tuesday or on Wednesday, Hendley, Bell, and Granger made the decision to bring their men in to work on Thursday. They had a very active and important investigation under way, with Sam Driscoll already out in the field, and plans to send the other operatives to Dubai to set up covert surveillance on Rehan’s property there.
The first question of the morning was whether or not they could continue on with their investigation, or if they wanted to just pull up stakes, lie low for a while, and somehow try to support Clark.
Dominic Caruso took a long sip of coffee and said, “We need to be here, in the States, and ready to move to support Clark. Do we even know where he is?”
Granger said, “The Gulfstream dropped him off just outside of Berlin. They will be back at BWI this evening, and can fly you out to Dubai, via Amsterdam, tomorrow night.”
Ryan said, “Look, I understand the Dubai surveillance is important. But in light of recent events… Shit. We can’t just leave John alone on this.”
Domingo shook his head. “He doesn’t need us. He doesn’t want us around. He’s going to try and wiggle out of this mess on his own while we work our op. Don’t lose sight of what we’re working on, Jack. This is damn important.”
“I know.”
“Look, John may be a bit long in the tooth, but he’s also the most BTDT operator on the planet.”
“BTDT?”
“Been there, done that. Trust me, John Clark can handle himself. And if he needs support in the field he will contact us. Look. You know I’d die for that man, but I also do what he tells me, especially at a time like this. I’m staying out of his way, going on with my job, and you are, too. Okay,’
Jack didn’t like it. He couldn’t understand how Ding could be so relaxed after everything that had happened. Still, he understood that Chavez had earned the right to call the shots on something involving John Clark. The two had been partners for twenty years, and Chavez was Clark’s son-in-law, as well.
“Okay, Ding.”
“Good. Now, we’ve got today and tomorrow to get ready for our operation in Dubai, so that’s what we’ll do. Cool?”
Caruso and Ryan were struggling with what they took as something of an abandonment of their mentor, but they could not argue with Chavez’s logic. Clark could always send for them. Even in Dubai.
It would be hard for the men to concentrate on the Rehan op, especially not knowing what might be still to come on the DOJ’s Clark investigation, but they had a job to do, so they got downthey got to it.
The Oval Office of the President of the United States was not the actual command center for the FBI’s operation to capture John Terrence Kelley, aka John Clark, but one could be forgiven for having that impression. Throughout Tuesday and into Wednesday, Ed Kealty saw a steady stream of repeat visits from Benton Thayer, Charles Alden, Mike Brannigan, Wes McMullen, and others focused on bringing in Clark.
But by Wednesday afternoon the FBI had decided their elusive bird had flown the coop. Kealty ordered Brannigan, Alden, and Thayer all into his office at the same time. By the President’s way of thinking, he needed to turn up the heat on his own people. To that end, he subjected the group sitting on the couches to a ten-minute tongue-lashing that ended with a question delivered in a tenor just short of a scream.
“How the hell does one man slip away like that?”
Charles Alden said, “With respect, sir. That is what he does.”
Kealty replied, “Ryan could be helping him run. Alden, go back to CIA and dig deeper. If you can find a tighter connection to Ryan and Clark, then we can implicate Ryan in Clark’s flight.”
Alden said, “I am told that some of what Jack Ryan did, and much of what John Clark did, was never committed to paper.”
“Bullshit,” Kealty said. “You’re being lied to by your own people. Make examples of a couple of the key people, and the others will open up.”
“Tried that already, sir. These guys, the old guard, would rather hit the bricks than talk about John Clark.”
“Fucking spooks,” Ed Kealty said, waving away Alden’s comment as he looked at Brannigan for a long moment. Finally the President pointed at his AG. “Listen to me, Mike. I want John Clark on the Ten Most Wanted list by the end of the day.”
“Mr. President, there are a lot of concerns about that. Someone else, some terrorist or murderer or other dangerous man, will have to come off the list, and that is problematic as far as—”
“John Clark is a murdering dangerous man. I want him on there.”
Wes spoke up: “I worry about how this is going to look to—”
“I don’t give a good goddamn how it looks! I want this man caught! If he is a fugitive from justice, and if he has left the country, then we need to turn up the heat in any and all possible ways.”
Brannigan asked, as respectfully as possible, “Who shall I remove, sir? Which one of the top ten will come off to put Clark on?”
“Your problem, Mike. Not mine.”
Benton Thayer said, “Mike, sometimes there is a number eleven, isn’t there? Like when they don’t want to take anyone off but feel someone else needs to go on?”
The attorney general admitted, reluctantly, that Thayer was correct.
The meeting broke up minutes later, but DDO Charles Alden asked Kealty directly if he could stay behind to talk to him for just a moment. He also asked that Thayer remain in the Oval Office.
