A bullet bounced off the wall opposite Karr, spraying pieces of clay from the brick. Karr tossed the flash-bang grenade over his shoulder and then hit the gas, hunkering down as the grenade exploded behind him.
The grenade was enough of a diversion to keep the bodyguard from following, but either one of his bullets or the shrapnel from them punctured Karr’s rear tire. He didn’t notice until he hit the main street and tried to turn; by then the air had run out completely and the rubber shell was so mangled that it whipped off with a screech a cat might make if its skin was pulled from its body. Karr felt the bike shifting abruptly to its side. He tried to let it fall beneath him, hoping to walk away from the wipeout just as he would have done as a teenager on his uncle’s farm a few years before. But Karr’s foot caught on the frame of the bike; knocked off balance, he spun around and landed on his back in the middle of the street.
Karr jumped to his feet just in time to narrowly miss being run over by a bus. He tried chasing it down to hop on the back, but it was moving too fast and there were no good handholds besides.
“Hey, Charlie,” he said, continuing down the block. “I need a lift.”
“He’s circling back for you,” said Rockman. “Run to the north.”
“Which way is north?” said Karr.
“Take the next left. Bodyguards have gone back to the building,” added Rockman. “Cam Tre Luc is really angry.”
“Guess he’s not the guy we’re looking for, huh?”
“I wouldn’t be too sure about that, Mr. Karr,” said Rubens from the Art Room. “Let’s give it some time and see what develops. For now, please get as far away from the area as possible.”
“Good idea, boss,” said Karr, hearing Dean’s bike approaching in the distance.
61
Marie Telach turned to Rubens.
“We’ll have Cam Tre Luc’s voice patterns analyzed,” she said. “But I’d say his surprise seemed fairly genuine. I don’t think he was the one communicating with Forester.”
“No,” said Rubens. He folded his arms.
“Is it worth sending anyone north to check on the last possibility?” asked Telach. “Thao Duong looks like he’s got to be involved.”
Thao Duong was involved in
That much was clear.
“He’s positioned perfectly to funnel money from the government to the people in America,” continued Telach. “He speaks with people in different American cities.”
“True,” admitted Rubens. “But how would Forester have found him? And why would he think he’d talk?”
“Because a source here told him he would. Or he knew something about his background.”
“Yes,” said Rubens vaguely. He wasn’t convinced. “What’s the third man’s name?”
“Phuc Dinh. A minor government official in the area near Da Nang,” said Telach.
“Have Charlie contact him. Mr. Karr can continue watching Thao Duong. Have him keep his distance. Let’s give the intercepts a few days and see what they turn up.” rubens was just picking up the phone to call Collins at the CIA and update her when National Security Advisor Donna Bing called wanting to know what the status of the “Vietnam thing” was. He gave her a brief rundown.
“So this Thao Duong is in the middle of it,” said Bing, her excitement obvious. “Can you get him to talk?”
“I’m not sure that he is in the middle of it,” said Rubens.
“I’m not even sure there is anything for him to be in the middle of.”
“No need to be so circumspect, Bill. You’re not talking to the Senate. I suggest we pick him up and talk to him.”
“I believe I’d need a little more information before I went ahead and
A “finding” was an order based on specific intelligence, approved by the NSC and signed by the President directing Desk Three to take a certain action. Activities that had the potential of causing extreme international trouble — like forcibly kidnapping an official of a foreign government in his home country in a nonemergency situation — could only be carried out pursuant to a finding. It usually took at least two meetings of the NSC before one was prepared.
“Don’t worry about the finding,” Bing told him. “I’ll arrange that. Are you in a position to bring him back?”
“Certainly if he volunteers to come back, we can accommodate him,” said Rubens.
“That’s not what we’re talking about.”
“I can have a full team in place seventy-two hours after the finding,” said Rubens.
“Get it in place now.”
Rubens hung up. Was Bing being overly aggressive because she wanted to prove her theory about Vietnam and the Chinese? Or was he being more cautious than warranted?
Rubens couldn’t be sure. The one thing he did know was this: for a man who prided himself on being logical and un-emotional under pressure, he felt a great deal of foreboding every time he spoke to Donna Bing on the phone.
62
“Lo is complaining that you stiffed him,” Kelly Tang told Dean early the morning after the adventures at Saigon Rouge. They’d arranged to meet for breakfast at Saolo, a cafe near his hotel. “He wants five thousand U.S. from me.”
“I would have paid if I saw him,” Dean told her. “And I only owe him five hundred, not five thousand.”
“You should pay him. If you don’t, I’ll have to, just to shut him up.”
“I will,” said Dean. “Eventually.”
Tang folded her arms. “It’s not easy developing people, especially people like Lo. They’re a necessary evil.” Dean slipped his hand into his pocket and retrieved the envelope with Lo’s five hundred dollars. “So pay him.” Tang frowned. “It’s not counterfeit, I hope. He’ll know the difference.”
“It’s not counterfeit.”
Tang took the money and slipped it into the waistband of her pants.
“I need another favor,” said Dean.
“What?”
“I need to get to Quang Nam,” Dean told her. “I need a driver I can trust.”
“Quang Nam?”
“It’s a province near the DMZ.”
“I know where Quang Nam is,” said Tang curtly. “And there is no more DMZ. The war ended a long time ago.”
“Sorry.”
“A driver? Why don’t you fly to Da Nang?”
“I prefer to drive.”
The real reason was that the airports were always
watched and Dean didn’t want to be seen traveling around any more than necessary. Besides, he’d need a vehicle once he was in Quang Nam.
“You can come if you want,” added Dean. “I’m going to Tam Ky.”
“I can’t. I’m sorry, I have too much to do here. I’ll find you a driver, though. Trustworthy. To a point.” Dean started to interrupt, but she continued, explaining what she meant.
“We’re in Vietnam. No one is completely trustworthy.
