“No. This is all happening very quickly. They’re used to a slower pace than we are, generally speaking. From their perspective, they may think they’re rushing right along. Major General Maduro, the chief of staff, has been cooperative. Prickly, but cooperative. They don’t want us talking directly to Tucume, although we are. They have the equivalent of a reinforced battalion physically protecting the warhead. That’s actually the largest concentration of troops in the region. The guerrillas can’t get it, at least. I’m certain of that.”
“Is there a second warhead?” George Hadash asked from Japan. He sounded tired.
“Mr. Rubens?”
“We haven’t turned up any hard evidence,” Rubens said. “If handled properly, a warhead doesn’t leave radiation behind. In fact, to detect nuclear material, one has to be very close, generally within nine meters, in some cases less. That said, we can state positively that whatever else was done in that barn, the pit of a weapon was not disassembled there.”
“Or was never there in the first place,” Collins said.
“That is correct. We simply don’t know. These things don’t tie themselves into very neat knots.”
“I’d like as much of the search as possible completed before the Peruvian public learns that the known weapon lacks nuclear material,” the president interjected. “After that comes out, political pressure will build quickly for us to leave the country. Build… it’ll go up like a rocket.”
“The international team of inspectors will probably get around to examining that weapon on Saturday,” the general said. “I can’t guarantee our search will be complete by then.”
“I appreciate your frankness, General. Still, do everything humanly possible.”
“Yes, sir.”
Rubens’ computer beeped, signaling an alert on his secure messaging system. He tapped the keys to bring the note onto the screen.
TUCUME FAMILY OWNS INTEREST IN MINERALE INTERNATIONALE, WHICH HAS WORKER ON AZNAR PAYROLL. WE HAVE FOUND DONATIONS TO AZNAR THAT APPEAR TO HAVE BEEN WASHED THROUGH THIRD PARTIES. PERHAPS HALF AZNAR’S FUNDS IN QUESTION. GALLO CHECKING FOR MORE.
— BIB
So the link between Tucume and the candidate was silver, and Johnny Bib found it. Gallo had probably hacked into the company records and begun comparing what they found to what they knew of Aznar’s finances.
Rubens informed the conferees of the message and filled them in on the silver mining company. “Any contributions from a soldier or his family to a political candidate would be contrary to Peruvian law,” Rubens explained. “This could be part of a sophisticated plot to get Aznar elected, or part of a plot to discredit him.”
“That’s obvious,” Collins said. “It would be nice to know which possibility is the correct one.”
Blanders ignored Collins. “Getting Aznar elected might be one reason that a fake bomb would surface at this time,” he said.
“Be nice if we had some evidence for that,” someone retorted.
“What if Tucume has a real bomb?” Hadash asked.
“Having a weapon and using it are two completely different things,” the president said. “Which may be the reason we are looking at a fake bomb on the world news. Billy, how good is the Tucume-Aznar connection?”
“We’re getting it nailed down.”
“How much money are we talking about?”
“I don’t know yet. Perhaps half Aznar’s campaign money.”
“That’s enough to buy most of the politicians I grew up with,” the president said thoughtfully. “Of course, sometimes the bastards didn’t stay bought — that was always the risk. Do we have any evidence that the candidate knows Tucume is giving him money?”
“No, sir.”
“OK. And the Peruvians are having an election on Sunday. Well, I know a thing or two about politics. State, have the ambassador in Lima find Aznar and inform him of the connection.”
“It’d be better to keep this at arm’s length,” said the secretary of state. He had spent a career in politics, too. “This way we can deny it if blows up in our face.”
“All right,” said the president. “Billy, can one of your people deliver the message convincingly?”
Someday, Rubens thought, he was going to have to tell the president that he hated to be called Billy.
“I have someone who might be credible,” said Rubens. “Hernes Jackson, the former ambassador to Chile.”
“Fine. Leak it to the Peruvian press after Aznar is informed. Don’t get caught doing it.”
“Yes, sir.”
The conference ended on that note. Two minutes later Rubens’ line buzzed with another call. Expecting Hadash, he picked it up. It was Collins.
“You’re just full of surprises today,” she said.
“How so?”
“You parceled out that info on the Tucume connection as if you were Santa Claus handing out presents. You were lucky it wasn’t a videoconference; they would have seen you gloating. How long have you known?”
“I reported the information within sixty seconds of the time I received it.”
“I’ll bet. Stop playing games.”
Rubens couldn’t think of a thing to say.
“All you do is play games,” she continued. “You want Hadash’s job and you’re trashing the agency to get it. You’re manipulating information. You are playing with lives and careers here.”
He hung up without answering.
83
Roughly an hour passed before the guard returned to Lia’s cottage. He carried a small towel and soap.
“This is the best I can do,” he told her. “The water is not very warm.”
“It’ll be fine,” said Lia. “No bag?”
The guard didn’t understand what she meant.
“To put the towel and soap in? Oh, never mind,” she said, stuffing the towel and soap into the briefcase. “I’ll use this.”
She walked with the guard to the shower building. He went inside, pointing out the faucets and soap, as if these weren’t obvious.
“Yes, very good,” she told him finally. She reached down and untied her ankle-high hiking boots. He didn’t take the hint.
“Excuse me. You’re not going to watch me take a shower,” she told him.
“I have to take your shoes.”
“My shoes?”
“You won’t need them in here.”
Lia rolled her eyes, but this had no effect on him.
“Take them. You want my bra, too?”
The guard turned red, embarrassed, but he still took her shoes. He also left the door wide open. Lia went to it and closed it just enough to block the view of the shower and window. She stepped back and threw her socks where they could be seen.
“I’m going for it,” she told Rockman.
“We’d prefer you wait until dark.”
“That’s four hours from now. I can get out right now.” Lia saw no reason to stay in the compound until nightfall. For one thing, it was very possible that the rest of the rebels would return, beefing up the defenses.
And for another — she didn’t need to be rescued like a damsel in distress. She could take care of herself.
