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“No,” Dogan countered, “that’s not how they work. What I said about the Committee seeking to run the world wasn’t an exaggeration. But it’s pretty difficult to run a world with two superpowers bookending everything in the middle. Their first thought has to be how to neutralize the U.S. and the Soviet Union.”

“What about undercutting us in the market, slicing into our share of the farm exports?”

Dogan shook his head, keeping his eyes steady on the road. “No, that’s too chancy and conservative. Also, I doubt they would be that naive. Our allies aren’t stupid. They know that a major item we export is food. If they buy from someone else, we — our dollar — gets hurt, which means they get hurt.”

Dogan glanced again at the rearview mirror. The view was clear behind them, and they’d been driving long enough now for concern over immediate pursuit to wane. The Swiss border would be coming up shortly. Once across it, he would head straight to Zurich and temporary refuge.

“The Committee craves power,” Dogan continued. “They’ve got something far worse up their sleeve than simple entry into the market, you can bet on that.”

Chris studied the man next to him briefly. His face was determined. When he wasn’t speaking, he clenched his teeth tightly. Locke was astounded by the aura of strength he projected and felt as if he was seated next to a volcano about to erupt.

“How is it that the Committee has never been investigated?” he asked.

“They have. Unofficially. The problem is nobody knows what to investigate, even less where to start. The Committee never leaves a trail.”

“Until now.”

“And a lot of people have died already who were part of it, starting with San Sebastian. Felderberg revealed part of what’s going on and Sanii clarified it. But a part is still all we’ve got.”

Locke recalled more of the financier’s words. “Felderberg sent Lubeck to Florence, to someone called the Dwarf.”

Dogan nodded, a slight smile on his face. “It figures he might be involved in this somehow.”

“Felderberg said he brokered information.”

“Along with weapons, blackmail, extortion — just about anything for a price. I’ve dealt with him before. Sneaky little bastard, and it’s my bet he’ll have gone into hiding by now. There are ways to reach him, though.”

Locke thought quickly. “There was another man, an Englishman named Burgess. He was an old friend of Charney’s and Brian sent me to him. He helped me get to Liechtenstein. Should we contact him?”

“I doubt there’s anything he can do to help us,” Dogan said suspiciously. “You’ll have to fill me in on the details of this later. He could be a Committee plant.”

“Impossible logistics,” Locke said. “He’s clean.”

“Then I wouldn’t want to be his insurance company. The Committee will get him before long.”

“He’s one tough son of a bitch. He takes precautions.”

“Precautions mean nothing to the Committee. They can get to anyone anywhere. It’s how they operate.”

“That doesn’t say much for our chances.”

“Not entirely true. To begin with, we’re on the move. More important, though, they aren’t even aware of my involvement yet and they want very much to keep you alive to continue uncovering Lubeck’s trail for them.” Dogan hesitated. “One of Felderberg’s men was waiting to kill you in Schaan Saturday night. Someone cut him up like candy.”

“But there are other people who want me dead.”

“An old hag in the train station in Vaduz among them?”

“Yes! Yes! But how did you know? How could you know?”

“It doesn’t matter. The old woman was a known assassin, quite proficient in her trade. You’re lucky to be alive.”

“I was lucky two other times as well.” And Chris went on to relate the details of his deadly meeting with Alvaradejo and the bloody chase that followed it. “Whoever’s behind these killers must have been the ones who used Alvaradejo to alert Lubeck in the first place,” he concluded, “which means we’re actually on the same side. My — our — problem is that they don’t know it. It looks to them like I’m being controlled by the Committee so they’re going all out to eliminate me.”

Dogan was nodding, a bit shaken by Locke’s conclusions.

“That presupposes that this mysterious third party knows what the Committee was up to in San Sebastian. Then, why did they attack the problem through Lubeck? Why not expose the truth themselves?”

“Fear of retaliation perhaps.”

“No, that doesn’t wash. Otherwise they wouldn’t have exposed themselves so much in trying to take you out. What was it that the old hag in the train station said?”

“She said it didn’t matter if I killed her because another would take her place. She said there were a lot of them and they would see us all burn in hell.”

“‘Us’ meaning the Committee.”

“That’s the implication, yes. But she didn’t have a Spanish accent.”

“Interesting. The reach of this third party obviously extends beyond a few Spanish fanatics. Individual teams are being called up, or just individuals, available for suicide missions.”

“I’ll repeat the question: then why bother using Lubeck at all?”

“You tell me, Locke. What did Lubeck offer them?”

“Legitimacy?” Chris replied.

“I think you’ve hit on it,” Dogan told him. “These allies of ours who don’t realize they’re our allies can’t risk exposure any more than the Committee can.”

“So we’re dealing with another sub-layer here.”

“One that picks and chooses its times to rise above the surface. We’ll know who’s behind it soon enough. That friend of mine is tracing down the old woman’s channels. Find out who hired her and we’ll have our answer.”

“Just one of them, you mean,” Locke corrected. His voice grew distant. “Lubeck saw something in the fields of San Sebastian before he died, something that terrified him. It all comes back to land … and genetic crop growth.”

“Lubeck saw a lot more than just crops in those fields, even if they sprouted right before his eyes, and we’ve got to find out what. It’s the key to this whole mess.”

The car crossed over into Switzerland. Both men breathed easier, though the security they felt in passing the border was fleeting. If the right connections had been made swiftly in Schaan, no border could protect them.

“You never explained how you found me,” Chris said suddenly.

“I put myself in your position,” Dogan explained, “and made a quiet search of all Schaan lodges and inns I’d have chosen if I were you. It wasn’t until early this morning that I found the right one. I followed you to Sanii and shadowed you on the outside, ready to lend my services if it became necessary.”

“Lucky for me….”

Dogan glanced over at Locke. “Charney was a bastard for drawing you into this.”

“He was only doing his job.”

“Bullshit. We don’t involve amateurs. We never involve amateurs.”

“I had six months of training, remember?”

“And most men with a lifetime of it wouldn’t have stuck this out like you have.” The car stopped at an intersection. Dogan’s eyes bore into Locke’s. “Running would have been the normal reaction.”

“No, Ross, I had to see this thing through,” Chris said softly. “I’d love to say it was out of patriotism, but I can’t. These bastards killed the two best friends I ever had and that’s part of it, a great part, but there’s something deeper that’s kept me going: fear. I’ve been scared all my life but the fear was never something I could overcome, because it was never tangible. Now I can see it, feel it. It’s out there and it’s alive and it’s monstrous. And maybe if I can look it in the eyes and not be stared down, all the other fears won’t mean so much and I’ll be able to look myself in the eyes too. Being a failure isn’t so bad; it’s realizing you’re one all of a sudden at forty-two.”