“I think any data we have we should share,” said Lincoln.
But Rubens and Brown stuck to their position, and eventually Hadash backed them up; together they worked out an arrangement that would leave LaFoote and, more important, the Deep Black agents unmentioned. They would also leave out the fact that the explosives involved seemed to have been made by a chemist who had worked for the French government — but at the same time supply enough technical data about what they perceived the threat to be. The French would figure out what the explosives were, even though they would be given the impression that the Americans didn’t know who had helped develop them.
“You think they would turn around and track the chemist, what’s his name, on their own?” asked Namath.
“Vefoures,” said Rubens. “They may. They’re welcome to. We’ve tried. He’s gone, almost surely killed. It’s the car thief we need, Mussa Duoar,” added Rubens. “He’s connected to the computers. He’s a devout Muslim. He has connections in the underworld. And to terrorists. He’s in the middle of this.”
“Car thieves don’t blow up national monuments,” said Namath.
“They also usually don’t gather money for terrorists,” said Rubens. “Or have connections with radical Muslims.”
“Connections that don’t necessarily add up to anything except coincidences,” said Namath.
“Granted, I’m making a leap,” conceded Rubens.
“What about the warhead that’s missing?” asked the President.
“Definitely still a concern,” said Rubens. “Mussa was from Algeria.”
“More connections,” said Namath.
“Admittedly, it may be a coincidence. We have nothing tying him or any of this to the warhead. What we’ve seen so far are conventional explosives, the exact type that Vefoures was working on,” said Rubens. He turned to Namath. “We have no indication that the warhead is involved and as far as I know it hasn’t been located, unless you’ve found it.”
Namath’s frown made it clear that the CIA hadn’t.
“The explosive could be used to fashion a triggering device for a nuke,” said Hadash.
“Absolutely,” said Rubens. “But it would be no easier with this explosive than with another. And quite frankly, such lenses are not easily constructed. You’ve seen all the trouble the Pakistanis have had.”
“It would be easier to overengineer,” said Hadash. “To compensate for the inferior lens.”
“It would be a big bomb then,” said Rubens.
“But that’s what we’re talking about.”
Rubens conceded that he couldn’t completely rule out the possibility that the warhead was involved, but even Namath had to admit that there wasn’t any indication that it was. The discussion shifted over to other possible targets.
As the conversation continued, Rubens noticed that Hadash began glancing at his watch every few minutes. He obviously had a busy schedule today and even though it was still very early in the morning would want to push things along to wrap up quickly. Hadash and the President would be leaving Washington at 2:00 a.m. tomorrow, and Rubens knew from experience that the national security adviser would want to finish early and sneak home for a nap before boarding the plane. The President never bothered with such strategies; he seemed never to be affected by jet lag, either.
“What do you think the odds are that the French will believe us?” President Marcke finally asked Rubens.
“Truthfully, I’m not sure.”
“Admiral?”
“Not sure.”
“Line?”
“I don’t know,” said the Secretary of State.
The President turned to Hadash with the same question.
“About as much as if they told us the White House was being targeted,” said the national security adviser.
“How did the General’s court hearing go?” asked Brown on the helicopter back to Crypto City.
“It was an informal meeting with the judge,” said Rubens. He explained that the judge had appointed a lawyer to represent the General.
“Stay on top of it,” said Brown.
“I’m trying,” said Rubens. “There’s a medical examination this afternoon.”
“You’ll be there?”
“I hope to be.”
“You should try.”
The secure phone buzzed in Ruben’s briefcase; he was only too happy for the excuse to end the conversation.
“Rubens,” he said, snapping the phone on. “Johnny Bib says the explosives fit the Eiffel Tower program precisely,” said Chris Farlekas. “They’ve located the library and he wants to go ahead and recover the hard drive.”
“How difficult will it be?” Rubens asked Farlekas.
“Unknown until we get somebody in to look at the setup. But I’d think it’d be a piece of cake. It’s a small library outside of Paris. The drive itself isn’t anything special — you could replace it in a few minutes or so. There’s a similar size one in the Paris safe house and we can upload the legitimate programs within an hour, maybe less. Whatever is on that locked-out section, of course, stays locked out.”
On the one hand, the sectors had been locked out because of a physical error on the drive, then it would be unlikely that anyone would realize they had taken it. On the other hand, if the locked-out space wasn’t really bad — if what Johnny Bib and his people thought was a malfunction turned out to be a clever masking program they had never encountered before — then whoever was using it would know they were on their trail.
In an ideal world, Rubens would have preferred leaving the drive in place for a few weeks and setting up some sort of trap to catch whoever accessed it. But this wasn’t an ideal world; he was simply going to have to take a risk, and it seemed to him that the risk with the least amount of foreseeable downside was in grabbing the drive.
“Can Tommy get it after he meets with LaFoote?”
“That may be difficult. There were complications.”
“What sort?”
“LaFoote is dead. Looks like murder.”
“I see.”
A confirmation that they were on the trail to something, he thought, though beyond that was all speculation.
“Get Dean over there right away,” Rubens told Farlekas.
“Charlie Dean? Change a computer drive?”
“Good point,” said Rubens. “Send Lia with him to do the actual swap.”
53
Father Brossard proved not to be at home when Karr called, and wasn’t expected back until the next morning. The priest’s housekeeper was from Kenya, and her English turned out to be somewhat better than her French. She explained that the priest had many churches to cover and traveled constantly around the local diocese.
“You think I should break in?” Karr asked Farlekas as he walked back toward Knox and the Renault.
“I don’t think Mr. Rubens would approve breaking into a church.”
