Toni said, "That would be a pretty good reason to break into a few computers to raise hell."
"It gets better," Joanna said. She looked at her flatscreen. "Seems an anonymous tip to the FBI has just resulted in the arrest of one Jamal S. Peterson, a former bank employee wanted for a similar kind of sting in South Dakota last month. They recovered the money from that, a couple hundred thousand, but Peterson was not apprehended at the time. The tip claimed that Peterson was responsible for this theft too."
"And he's been picked up?"
"About fifteen minutes ago. I just got off the phone with the special agent in Charge. Peterson had a forged passport, a one-way ticket to Rio, and a new account in Switzerland with forty million dollars in it, transferred in last night."
"So that's all the money," Jay said.
"Not exactly. The hundred and sixty very large went into a bank in Bali, but there's a good chance the money has already left the building. The institution in question has a history of such transactions."
"So Hughes, if he's responsible, has probably already gotten his hands on more money than you and I and everybody in our department will make for the rest of our lives," Alex said.
"That would be a fairly safe bet," Joanna said.
Alex sighed. "Damn."
"I hate to add more rain on the parade," Toni said, "but with that kind of money, there are probably a dozen poor African nations who'd be happy to grant Hughes political asylum. Maybe not the Ethiopians, but some of the third-world presidents would jump at the chance to sell out. For a tenth of that much."
Alex said, "And that might be his plan. He might already be sitting in his new villa in Sierra Leone, sipping some banana-and-rum drink and laughing his head off at us."
"And it gets worse, Boss. We've been backwalking the various penetrations as best we can, and casting about for any side trails, and we think we've uncovered a problem."
Michaels looked at him. "Why am I not surprised? What is it?"
"The way it looks to us, Platt has set it up so that he has to log in to various systems at certain times. If he doesn't, and if he doesn't send the right messages, we think he has several more surprises set to be unleashed on us."
"Dead-man switches," Alex said.
Jay nodded. "That's how it looks. We're tracking them as best we can. Given enough time, we'll get them all, but if anything happens to Platt before we do…"
Alex glanced over at Joanna, then back at Jay. "Stay on it," he said, "and let me know as soon as you've got them all."
"Right, Boss."
"First thing the rest of us have to do is find out where Hughes is. Then we'll worry about how much immunity he thinks he's got."
Alex looked thoughtful. "Toni, see if you can get hold of Colonel Howard at home, would you?"
Joanna said, "He's not at home. He's doing a survival course in Oregon."
Everybody turned and looked at Joanna. She said, "Uh, that's what I heard."
Jay grinned at Joanna, and Toni wondered why.
"Ah," Jay said. "You get that from a certain NCO we all know and love?"
Joanna blushed, her pale complexion flushed a deep pink.
"Of course, some of us apparently know him and love him more than others," Jay said. Butter wouldn't melt in his mouth.
"Go, people, find me a bank thief," Alex said, saving Joanna more embarrassment. "Oh, and good work on what we've done so far. You four are the best, don't let anybody ever tell you different."
"Yeah, but — who gets the trip to Hawaii?" Jay said.
"Go, Jay. We aren't done yet. And while you're looking, get me everything you can on Hughes. Let's find out what we're dealing with here."
Chapter Thirty-Six
John Howard was nearly a mile into the morning's trek when his virgil cheeped at him.
Uh-oh. Nobody was supposed to call unless it was an emergency. He unclipped the device from his belt — he'd learned that lesson, thank you very much — and looked at the ID flashing on the screen.
Assistant Commander of Net Force Toni Fiorella.
He pressed the connect button. "Howard," he said.
"Colonel, I'm afraid you're going to have to cut your survival trip short. We've got a situation here, and Alex — Commander Michaels — wants you back at HQ to put your teams on standby alert."
"Copy that."
"Find a flat spot, sir, and a copter will be there to pick up as soon as possible."
"Affirmative, AC. What's up, can you say?"
"We may be doing an extraction, Colonel, though it's a little early to tell. If we can locate the quarry, it's likely you won't need to pack your cold-weather clothes."
"Copy. I'm looking for a landing site now."
"Drop by when you get back, Colonel, and we'll fill you in. Discom."
"Discom." After the link was sundered, Howard began looking for a place for the copter to land. They'd home in on his virgil, and if a bird lifted from the nearest local military base, his ride should be there within the hour. Giving up his survival trip for a real assignment was not in the least bit distressing to him. War games and camping trips were only the maps, not the territory.
The web covered the world, even a backwater like this one, and it was but the work of a few minutes with a portable flatscreen to uplink via shielded modem pipe to a passing telecom sat. Another minute, a coded password, and 160 million electronic dollars flew from Bali to Bissau, into the government-owned Banco Primero de Bissau, where it was now as safe from the U.S. authorities' grasp as was the surface of Saturn.
In his room, seated cross-legged on his bed, Hughes took a deep breath and let it slowly escape. He smiled. It hadn't even been that difficult to do, to steal more money than most people could ever hope to see in their lifetimes. To most people, 160 million dollars was a fantasy — the only chance they'd ever have at such a sum was winning the lottery. For him, the money was but an intermediate step. A tool, nothing more. He was home free. He had the money, and they didn't have any idea who had taken it. He could go back to the States with White, wrap up a few loose ends, make a few calls, and he was on his way. Even if all of this somehow blew up in his face, he still would have forty million, after he paid El Presidente. Not a bad little nest egg. That was including, of course, the twenty million Platt was supposed to get — but wouldn't need where he was going.
So easy. Amazing.
The room's phone rang.
"Yes?"
It was the President's secretary. "Good afternoon, Mr. Hughes. President Domingos sends his regards and wonders if it might be convenient for you to join him for a drink in the Blue Room in perhaps half an hour?"
"That would be fine," Hughes said. "Half an hour."
Hughes smiled again. His Excellency wasn't wasting any time.
Time for a shower and fresh clothes before he went.
"Guinea-Bissau?" Alex said. "I hope you don't think any less of me for not knowing, but where the hell is that?"
"West Africa," Toni said, "between Senegal and Guinea."
"Oh, that helps."
They were in his office, alone, and she had just presented him with the intelligence on Thomas Hughes's whereabouts.
Toni said, "On the North Atlantic coast. Trust me, it's there."
"Okay, so how do we know Hughes is there?"
"I have a contact at the CIA who checked it out for me. They actually have an operative in the country, and she filed a report."
"Why would the CIA have an op there? I don't even see any of the Company's maps in here. How important a place can it be if they didn't bother to map it?"