Yes, he had to help. It would be a good bargaining chip to acquire for later requests to be made of the Americans. Moreover, Clark had dealt honorably with him, Sergey reminded himself, and it was distantly troubling to him that a former KGB officer had helped attack the man's family-attacks on non-combatants were forbidden in the intelligence business. Oh, occasionally the wife of a CIA officer might have been slightly roughed up in the old days of the East-West Cold War, but serious harm? Never. In addition to being nekulturny, it would only have started vendettas that would only have interfered with the conduct of real business, the gathering of information. From the 1950s on, the business of intelligence had become a civilized, predictable one. Predictability was always the one thing the Russians had wanted from the West, and that had to go both ways. Clark was predictable.
With that decision made, Golovko printed up the information on his screen.
"So?" Clark asked Bill Tawney.
"The Swiss were a little slow. It turns out that the account number Grady gave us was real enough-"
"Was?" John said, thinking that he could hear the bad news "but" coming.
"Well, actually it's still an active account. It began with about six million U.S.dollars deposited, then several hundred thousand withdrawn-and then, the very day of the attack at the hospital, all but a hundred thousand was withdrawn and redeposited elsewhere, another account in yet another bank."
"Where?"
"They say they cannot tell us."
"Oh, well, you tell their fucking Justice Minister that the next time he needs our help, we'll fuckin' let the terrorists kill off their citizens!" Clark snarled.
"They do have laws, John," Tawney pointed out. "What if this chap had an attorney do the transfer? The attorney-client privilege applies, and no country can break that barrier. The Swiss do have laws that govern funds thought to have been generated by criminal means, but we have no proof of that, do we? I suppose we could gin something up to get around the law, but that will take time, old man."
"Shit," Clark observed. Then he thought for a second. "The Russian?"
Tawney nodded sagely. "Yes, that makes sense, doesn't it? He set them up a numbered account, and when they were taken out, he still had the necessary numbers, didn't he?"
"Fuck, so he sets them up and rips them off."
"Quite," Tawney observed. "Grady said six million dollars in the hospital, and the Swiss confirm that number. He needs a few hundred thousand to purchase the trucks and other vehicles they used-we have records on that from the police investigation-and left the rest in place, and then this Russian chap decided they have no further use of the funds. Well, why not?" the intelligence officer asked. "Russians are notoriously greedy people, you know."
"The Russian giveth, and the Russian taketh away. He gave them the intel on us, too."
"I would not wager against that, John," Tawney agreed.
"Okay, let's back up some," John proposed, putting his temper back in its box. "This Russian appears, gives them intelligence information on us, funds the operation from somewhere-sure as hell not Russia, because, A, they have no reason to undertake such an operation and, B, they don't have that much money to toss around. First question: where did the money-"
"And the drugs, John. Don't forget that."
"Okay, and the drugs-come from?"
"Easier to track the drugs, perhaps. The Garda say that the cocaine was medical quality, which means that it came from a drug company. Cocaine is closely controlled in every nation in the world. Ten pounds is a large quantity, enough to fill a fairly large suitcase-cocaine is about as dense as tobacco. So the bulk of the shipment would be the equivalent of ten pounds of cigarettes. Say the size of a large suitcase. That's a bloody large quantity of drugs, John, and it would leave a gap in someone's controlled and guarded warehouse, wherever it might be."
"You're thinking it all originated in America?" Clark asked.
"For a starting point, yes. The world's largest pharmaceutical houses are there and here in Britain. I can get our chaps started checking out Distillers, Limited, and the others for missing cocaine. I expect your American DEA can attempt to do the same."
"I'll call the FBI about that," Clark said at once. "So, Bill, what do we know?"
"We will assume that Grady and O'Neil were telling us the truth about this Serov chap. We have a former-presumably former-KGB officer who instigated the Hereford attack. Essentially he hired them to do it, like mercenaries, with a payment of cash and drugs. When the attack failed, he simply confiscated the money for his own ends, and on that I still presume that he kept it for himself. The Russian will not have such private means-well, I suppose it could be the Russian Mafia, all those former KGB chaps who are now discovering free enterprise, but I see no reason why they should target us. We here at Rainbow are not a threat to them in any way, are we?"
"No," Clark agreed.
"So, we have a large quantity of drugs and six million American dollars, delivered by a Russian. I am assuming for the moment that the operation originated in America, because of the drugs and the quantity of the money."
"Why?"
"I cannot justify that, John. Perhaps it's my nose telling me that."
"How did he get to Ireland?" John asked, agreeing to trust Tawney's nose.
"We don't know that. He must have flown into Dublin-yes, I know, with such a large quantity of drugs, that is not a prudent thing to do. We need to ask our friends about that."
"Tell the cops that's important. We can get a flight number and point of origin from that."
"Quite." Tawney made a note.
"What else are we missing?"
"I'm going to have my chaps at `Six' check for the names of KGB officers who are known to have worked with terrorist groups. We have a rough physical description which may be of some use for the purposes of elimination. But I think our best hope is the ten pounds of drugs."
Clark nodded. "Okay, I'll call the Bureau on that one."
"Ten pounds, eh?"
"That's right, Dan, and doctor-quality pure. That's a real shitload of coke, man, and there ought to be a blank spot in somebody's warehouse."
"I'll call DEA and have them take a quick look," the FBI Director promised. "Anything shaking on your end?"
"We're giving the tree a kick, Dan," John told him. "For the moment we're proceeding on the assumption that the operation initiated in America." He explained on to tell Murray why this was so.
"This Russian guy, Serov, you said, former KGB, formerly a go-between for terrorists. There weren't all that many of those, and we have some information on the specialty."
"Bill's having `Six' look at it, too, and I've already kicked it around with Ed Foley. I talked to Sergey Golovko about it as well."
"You really think he'll help?" Director Murray asked.
"The worst thing he can say is no, Dan, and that's where we are already," Rainbow Six pointed out.
"True," Dan conceded. "Anything else we can do on this end?"
"If I come up with anything I'll let you know, pal."
"Okay, John. Been watching the Olympics?"
"Yeah, I actually have a team there."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, Ding Chavez and some men. The Aussies wanted us down to observe their security operations. He says they're pretty good."
"Free trip to the Olympics, not a bad gig," the FBI director observed.