“How did Carter react?”
“Brilliantly. He lectured for an hour and a half and then fielded questions for another two hours. Needless to say, the audience was spellbound. This was definitely the lecture of the millennium. I don’t think Carter has any more worries about whether his disclosure will bring a revolution.”
“Where is he now?”
“On an airplane.”
“What?” Wilson asked, stunned by the words. Carter was still at it.
“Somewhere outside the U.S. It was part of his immunity package. I assumed you knew?”
“Hell no!” Wilson said, feeling stupid for being blindsided yet again. “Things must be worse than we think if the person who most wanted to see this is fleeing the scene.”
“Given the FBI’s lightning-fast response, he could be anywhere by now.”
“That’s why Elizabeth wasn’t home,” Wilson said, trying to think of what else he may have missed. “What’s his cover?”
“A history conference at Stanford University. There’s an undercover agent disguised as Carter who’ll be arriving in San Francisco in a couple of hours.”
“Does Tate know about the conference?”
“Carter said he told him about it.”
“Did he leave a message for me?” Wilson asked, his anger spiking.
“Not to panic.”
“What?”
“He said not to panic. He would be in touch.”
“Well, he’s done it again, hasn’t he?” Wilson said.
“After what he did this morning, he didn’t have much choice, Wilson.”
“What about us?”
“Unless you want to call it quits, we’re scheduled for another debriefing at the apartment tonight with Kohl, Johns, and whoever else they’re bringing.”
“Who else?” Wilson asked, pissed off about what else he didn’t know. He’d been so preoccupied with Emily that he was no longer thinking clearly or acting smart.
“They wouldn’t tell me,” Hap said, his eyebrows raised.
“Are you absolutely confident that they know what the fuck they’re doing?” Wilson asked, admitting to himself that there was nothing he could do about it even if they didn’t know what they were doing, except free Emily and leave the country like Carter had.
“They seem to have marshaled an impressive strike force,” Hap said, sympathizing with Wilson.
“I hope you’re right,” Wilson said, still considering the option of fleeing with Emily. “Are you certain that my father and the rest of my family are safe?”
Hap stepped back away from the door, “Each one of them is under heavy surveillance, twenty-four hours a day, four of our people and four FBI agents for every one of them.”
“That has to be raising suspicions.”
“We still haven’t seen any evidence of surveillance or counter-surveillance since your meeting with Tate at the Bostonian Club,” Hap said.
“Doesn’t that surprise you?”
“Actually, no. They know we’re here in full force, so they’re pretending to trust you, even when they don’t. They’re close to being free from Fielder amp; Company and they’re still holding Emily. But sooner or later they’ll figure it out. FBI agents throughout the country are already monitoring the movements of every CEO in the secret partnership, ready to pounce at a moment’s notice. Kohl wants the arrests to happen simultaneously.”
“How many arrests?”
“Over four hundred.”
“They’ll never pull this off without something going wrong. What’s the actual charge?”
“Conspiracy,” Hap said.
“Conspiracy?” Wilson said, louder than intended. Conspirare, the Latin root of conspire, means to breathe together, he thought. Manipulation is as natural as breathing to these guys.
“Conspiracy to defraud the United States,” Hap said as he pulled a business card from his jacket pocket. He began reading from the back of the card, “As defined by the Supreme Court, conspiracy to defraud the United States is ‘to interfere with, impede, or obstruct a lawful government function by deceit, craft, or trickery, or at least by means that are dishonest.’ They’re also going to make a case for treason, calling it ‘a breach of allegiance to one’s government and levying financial war against the American people.’”
“Carter has been planning this for weeks,” Wilson said, cynically. “Why did he need me?”
Hap stood up. “Distraction,” he said, not without sympathy. “You were his only means of finding cover from the partnership’s scrutiny. All he needed was a little time and enough counter-surveillance resources to accomplish what he did this morning. You provided both.”
Hap was right again. Wilson had distracted the partnership just long enough for Carter to deliver his final lecture.
53
Wilson — Boston, MA
FBI executives Kohl and Johns entered the Back Bay apartment with Hap Greene, followed by four FBI technicians carrying several cases of computer and video equipment. Wilson arrived a few minutes later. It was almost eight in the evening and there had been no more calls from Emily. Thankfully, regular reports from Driggs continued to convey that she was safe and unharmed. He wouldn’t allow her to suffer much longer, even if she was determined to destroy the bastards.
Within minutes, the FBI technicians had set up five laptop computers and a video camera at the dining room table and then proceeded to log in five reporters-Katherine Fischer from The New York Times, Peter Jacoby from The Wall Street Journal, Bob Woodward from The Washington Post, Martha Kinzer from The Boston Globe, and Barry Dietz from the Associated Press-for an encrypted high-tech video conference. When all the connections had been tested, Kirsten Kohl asked Wilson to join her in the dining room.
“Each of these journalists is on a secure, encrypted connection. They have been thoroughly briefed on our operation. Each of them attended the meeting with Carter Emerson earlier today. Now, they have some questions for you.”
Feeling a bit blindsided by Carter and now the FBI, Wilson’s growing cynicism flared. “Seems a bit Orwellian or maybe Chinese to have the FBI orchestrating the press.”
“We’re not orchestrating the press,” Kohl said with a distinct coolness. “It was a non-negotiable part of Carter Emerson’s demands.”
“Nothing surprising about that,” Wilson mumbled.
“We’re only here for background, Mr. Fielder,” said New York Times senior reporter Katherine Fischer. “Could you begin by describing your father’s relationship with Carter Emerson?”
“Aren’t we going to wait for the networks?” Wilson asked sarcastically.
“Broadcast journalists are scheduled for Friday morning after the arrests,” Johns said. “Nothing will be printed or broadcast until then.”
“And these reporters agreed to that?” Wilson said in disbelief. He didn’t like Johns or his self-righteous smugness. And he couldn’t believe all of this was going to unfold without any hitches. Carter had told him about wanting the press to be intimately involved, but no one had bothered to tell him about the details or the timetable-and it aggravated him.
“The national security implications of a premature leak on this story have registered with all of them. Plus, we have agents at each of their locations and sworn affidavits that nothing will be discussed or printed until Friday,” Kohl said.
“Of course,” Wilson said, ready to have Emily extracted immediately.
“What about your father’s relationship with Carter Emerson?” Fischer asked again.
Wilson reluctantly spent the next ten minutes explaining what he knew about Carter’s relationship with his father. As he summarized the relationship, he softened, admitting to himself how much he loved and respected both of them, despite the fact that he and Emily had been caught in their web of manipulations.
“What do you think motivated your father and Carter Emerson?” asked Wall Street Journal reporter Peter Jacoby.