“Give me eight minutes to set everything up. I’ll call you back at this number. When you speak to her, just talk naturally. Don’t try to do your own accent. It’ll mess up the program.”
“Okay, okay — just get the damn thing set up!”
Wade didn’t have a clue what he would sound like and didn’t really care. During the eight-minute wait, he scribbled down some notes. There were lots of details to remember. Only the important ones matter. When he looked down at his notes he noticed they were messy, almost unreadable. Looking again, he saw his hand tremble. It must be from the shooting incident. He had been as cool as a cucumber during the incident; this must be the aftershock. He took deep breaths waiting for the phone to ring.
The patch seemed like it was taking an eternity to complete. When the phone finally rang, he jumped and immediately picked up the receiver. Instead of Yari’s voice, he heard the sound of Wicks’ secure line ringing.
“Wicks here.”
“Ms. Wicks, I’m calling you anonymously as another intelligence operative who does not want to be identified.”
“You’ve called a British Embassy line that isn’t used for outside calls. Where did you get this number?”
“Never mind where I got the number. You’re part of the Embassy, but you’re also an MI-6 agent. It will serve you well to listen to what I have to say. It deals with an assassination attempt on the Prime Minister and senior officials at today’s ceremony. That threat was neutralized by my team. All you have to do is listen to what I am going to tell you, and then you can decide if you want to do anything more about it. I will take less than five minutes of your time. I know this conversation is being recorded, but you may want to have a pen and pad in front of you as well.”
A pause followed. Wicks’ first thought was that it was a crank call, leading up to some demand or political statement. She’d gotten many of those before, but none had previously started out this way. Everything the caller first said could be easily checked out. If nothing else, the caller had used a creative approach to get her attention.
“I’m listening.”
Wade described what had happened and the location of the bodies on nearby rooftops, the location and description of the black cases under the stage, the location of the safe houses, and the storage locker number where she could find the C-4 explosives, phosphorous crystals, and other weapons. He identified the location of the farm where the firefight had taken place and the tail number on the plane Stephan had used to escape, along with the location of the probable crash site. After completing his explanations, there was an unexpected silence.
“Your story is almost too bizarre for you to have made it up. Assuming you’re telling the truth, who do you contend was behind this attempt?”
“I don’t know. That’ll be your job to find out. There are plenty of clues, however. I will tell you that significant resources were behind this attempt, and the individuals who participated have the means to try it again.”
“How did you get the intel that this was going to take place?”
“My team didn’t have any advanced intel. The threat was discovered quite by accident while we were on another mission in Belize. There was no time to warn anyone — we just reacted to everything as it unfolded.”
“How do you feel the threat was planned?”
“Everything associated with your ceremony activities is highly publicized, including who is attending which ceremonies. It even gives the times and when each speech is scheduled to occur. I suggest you do something about that exposure.”
“Assuming your story checks out, who do we have to thank for your assistance?”
“No thanks necessary, ma’am. I’m just glad everyone is safe.”
“Is there any chance we could meet to further discuss this?”
“No, ma’am, that’s not possible. By the way, that red rosebud on your jacket goes well with your cream-colored suit, but you look a little tired.”
The click of Wade’s receiver ended the call. Wicks’ head suddenly turned right toward the large window on the other side of the room. As she replaced the receiver, she glanced down at her jacket. The small red rosebud was still fresh from the afternoon ceremonies. Wicks slowly got up from her desk, walked around the credenza, and approached the large picture window but remained out of sight.
Does the caller have me in his line of sight? The tall surrounding glass office buildings reflected back an intense glare from the bright afternoon sun. It was impossible for Wicks to see anything. If he was looking at her, he had the sun at his back.
In one sweep, Wicks closed the heavy, lined curtains, cutting off the light into her office. She quickly returned to her desk and dialed her secretary.
“Have the Chief of Security come to my office immediately.”
Chapter 31
Wade was busy finishing a school paper after his return from Belize three days earlier. He hadn’t spoken to Megan since that last call from the library in Belize City just before the attack in Belmopan. He was quietly working on the paper when the phone rang. The harsh ring was then tempered by Megan’s soft voice, and immediately shifted his concentration to a sweeter place.
“I hope you’re busy finishing your class report.”
“As a matter of fact, I’m working on it now.”
“How was your fishing trip?”
“Good. I’m glad to be back.”
“I bet you are. Can you tell me any more about it?”
“I really can’t right now. Just that there were plenty of fish to fry.”
“Are you still coming to Washington for the reception?”
“I wouldn’t miss seeing you for anything.”
“That’s sweet.”
He changed the subject. “Is the training schedule for D.C. the same as we last discussed?”
“It sure is. Nothing’s changed. You’ll meet a lot of interesting people at the reception.”
“I’m looking forward to completing my training and seeing you.”
“I can’t wait.”
He paused then went on, “I don’t guess you’ve heard anything more about Spencer’s activities in Vietnam before his death in North Carolina?”
“Still checking into some files at the Pentagon. Seems like Spencer’s files related to the drug investigation are buried deep under lock and key. You can’t even access the area where the files are kept without a special pass.”
“I figured that might be the case.”
The reception in Washington was the culmination of Agency training attended by agents from around the world. One of the purposes of the gathering was for agents to meet the new crop of recent graduates. It was also an opportunity for recent grads to make connections for permanent postings, and the closest thing the Agency had to an unofficial graduation ceremony. Megan was in charge of organizing hotel activities and coordinating flights for incoming agents. With the reception still two months away, things hadn’t gotten very hectic yet.
She was at her desk making preliminary arrangements when her phone rang. It was a call from her good friend Beverly, who worked at the Pentagon.
“Are you and Wade still in touch?”
“Of course. Why do you ask?”
“Interesting. Our office got a communiqué requesting Wade’s personnel file. It didn’t come through normal channels and wasn’t on the request form we normally use.”
“That’s strange. What was the routing?”
“It doesn’t show any routing.”
“That’s strange. No source or origin?”
“Nope. Just delivered to me through inter-office mail. On my directory, you still show as Wade’s supervisor.”