Hood was uncharacteristically impatient as he called Mike Rodgers. He brought the general up to date, then conferenced him into the discussion. The two men waited as Kline's voice mail picked up on the cell phone.
"Goddamn him!" Herbert said. "He's ducking us."
Hood was frustrated, too, and angry, but he forced himself to stay cool and on target.
"Bob, do we think Kline's still at the Mission of the Holy See in New York?" Hood asked.
"That's the only secure place Kline could use to monitor a military action," Herbert told him. "Kline definitely would not have left if something is brewing." Before Hood could suggest it, the intelligence chief added, "I'm calling over there now. I'll find him."
"If you do, I'll do the talking," Hood said.
"You got it," Herbert said. "Only if I get to break his freakin' nose when this is all over. Screening calls," the intelligence chief went on. "That's so frigging low rent. You want to impede someone, do it like a man. Use diplomatic doublespeak. Face-to-face, toe-to-toe."
Hood did not interrupt or comment. Bob Herbert frequently raged at something. It was in his hot Mississippi blood to do so. This time, though, Hood had to agree that Herbert had a good reason to boil.
Herbert reached an automated switchboard. The intelligence chief had no idea whose office Kline was using. He waited for an operator. The operator did not know anyone by the name of Edgar Kline. Exasperated, Herbert hung up and redialed the main number. When the voice menu came up, he punched the extention of the Path to Peace Foundation Bookstore.
"Can I help you?" asked the youthful-sounding man who answered the telephone.
"Yes," Herbert said. "What's your name?"
"Mr. Hotchkiss," said the clerk. "Can I help you?"
"Yes, Mr. Hotchkiss," Herbert told him. "Do you carry a copy of the last rites?"
"We do," replied the clerk. "It's in several books. The most popular is the Concordance of Catholic Liturgy-"
"I'll take it," Herbert said. "And I want a bookmark placed on that page."
"Any particular style of bookmark?"
"No," Herbert replied. "I'll need the book delivered to someone in your building."
"In our building?" the man said.
"That's right," Herbert replied. "Mr. Hotchkiss, is there anyone else working in your shop?"
"Yes-"
"Please ask him to deliver the book while I give you the credit card information," Herbert said. "Oh, and I want an inscription on the title page."
"Certainly, sir."
"It should read, 'Answer your cell phone, or you'll need this,' " Herbert told him. "Sign it Bob H."
"Excuse me?" the young man said.
"Just do it," Herbert said. "Lives depend on you."
Hood was impressed by the concern and conviction Herbert put in that one statement. The man was the best.
"I'll do it right away, sir," the clerk replied. "To whom is the concordance being delivered?"
"Man named Edgar Kline," Herbert said. "Ask around in the diplomatic corridors. Someone will know him."
"/ know him," the man said.
"You do?" Herbert asked.
"He was in here before, buying a travel guide," the man said.
'To southern Africa?" Herbert asked.
"That's right," replied the clerk.
"Did he want to see maps?" Herbert asked.
"He did!" Hotchkiss replied. "How did you know?"
"Lucky guess," Herbert told him. "Mr. Hotchkiss, can I count on you to do this?"
"You can," Hotchkiss said. "Since I know what he looks like, I'll deliver it myself."
"Thanks," Herbert replied.
The clerk turned the phone over to his associate, and Herbert gave him the credit card information. While he did, Hood hung up. He consulted a computer map of northern Botswana. The rendezvous point for Maria, Aideen, and Battat was thirty miles from the swamp. He did not give Kline any information that could have led the Botswanan military to that region. The target had to have come to him some other way. But who would have known to contact him? The VSO was a highly secretive organization. They did not maintain ties with very many international intelligence groups. Only the Spanish, the Americans-and then it hit him. The intelligence did not come from the outside. They had missed the obvious source.
Mike Rodgers walked in. "What do you think, Paul?" the general asked Hood.
"I think it was Father Bradbury," he said.
Rodgers was puzzled. "What about him?"
"He's the only one who knows exactly where Dhamballa is," Hood said. "Either the VSO pinpointed the last call he made or, maybe more likely, he found a way to signal them."
"Radio equipment or a phone," Rodgers said. "Dhamballa has to have them. It's possible."
"Gentlemen, this is not good," Hood said. "We have to stop our people from going in."
"You're getting ahead of me," Rodgers said.
"The Botswana government thinks that Dhamballa's people killed our bishop," Hood said. "They have to move against him. The Air Force is going to clean the lot of them out."
"But not before the Spanish get in and save Bradbury," Rodgers said.
"Maybe no," Hood said. "If they think the Vodunists killed once, they can always be blamed for killing twice. Who will be able to prove that they did not kill Father Bradbury?"
"No one," Herbert said.
"We have to give Gaborone the photo Maria took," Rodgers said.
"That may not stop them," Herbert replied. "The photo will tell them they have a larger problem. Other enemies on the inside. They will still want to clean up this one first, as quickly as possible."
"I still don't think the Vatican will offer Father Bradbury up as an altar sacrifice," Rodgers insisted. "I do not want to believe that. Not while they have an option."
"Maybe not," Hood agreed. "What options do they have?"
"The Unidad Especial del Despliegue," Rodgers said. "They can get one of the air force choppers to airlift the Spaniards close to Okavanga Swamp. The soldiers go in and get Father Bradbury out."
"Eliminating the need for them to rendezvous with our people," Herbert pointed out.
"That's not the bad part," Rodgers said. "Our guys will still be heading for the swamp with Seronga. I've got a map of Botswana in front of me. If my calculations are even roughly correct, they should get there just about the time the Botswana Air Force arrives."
Rodgers grabbed the phone on Hood's desk. He called the embassy in Gaborone and asked to be patched through to Aideen Marley.
At once.
Chapter Fifty-Four
Aideen Marley and David Battat had decided to remain hidden for now. They would let Maria handle the approach. She was the most experienced of the three. She was the one on the inside.
Battat and Aideen had left the Jeep when they saw the approaching headlights. They were lying belly down on a threeor four-yard-high dirt rise several dozen yards beyond it. They could not rule out the possibility that Seronga would strafe the vehicle with gunfire before approaching. Of course, the two knew they would probably not be much safer lost in the wilderness, at night, without transportation. They had no idea what predators might be about. Still, not knowing Seronga's state of mind, this seemed like a reasonable precaution.
Aideen and Battat lay side by side as Maria and two men left the cab of the truck. Cautiously, the three approached the Jeep. They were silhouetted by the headlights, so Aideen could not see many details, but it looked as though one of the men had a gun. He appeared to be pointing it at Maria, who was walking several yards ahead. Aideen tried to read Maria's body language. The woman was striding as she had in Spain. As though nothing intimidated her. If she were in immediate danger, she did not show it.
"Hello!" Maria said at last. "Are you there?"