"My mother's dead," Prescott said.
"Sorry to hear that, but on the other hand, that partly solves the biggest problem you're going to have," Cavanaugh said.
"Which is?"
"I'll come to it in a moment, after I deal with the third stage in your disappearance, which is arranging for you to have access to money. In many cases, the person who's disappearing has to give up a job. In his or her new life, money becomes a significant issue."
"Fortunately, that won't be an issue for you, because you're wealthy." Duncan slid another piece of paper across the table to him. "Tomorrow, after the final details of your new identity have been arranged, you'll transfer your money to this numbered bank account that we've established for you in the Bahamas. You'll note that the password is Phoenix. I couldn't resist the rebirth idea. As soon as you activate the account, change the number and the password so you're confident the money is secure, even from us."
"You'll need to establish another bank account, this one conventional, in your new name at your new place of residence,"
Cavanaugh said. "Periodically, you'll transfer funds to that second bank, preferably in amounts less than ten thousand dollars, because transactions larger than that have to be reported to the government. But don't make it too close to ten thousand dollars, because the DEA uses that pattern to identify drug traffickers. Seven to eight thousand would be a reasonable figure, one that won't attract the government's attention."
"You'll need a story to tell your banker to explain your income," Duncan added. "Perhaps you receive periodic installments from a trust fund. Perhaps you retired early after selling a business and for tax reasons you preferred a schedule of payments rather than a lump sum. Whatever fabrication feels comfortable to you."
Prescott took another sip of wine. "And the fourth stage? The one that presents the most problems?"
Cavanaugh looked around the table. Everyone glanced down, uneasy.
"Initially, a new life sounds tempting," Cavanaugh said. "An escape from your enemies. A fresh beginning. The chance to correct mistakes and start over. The trouble is, you have to make a complete break with your past. Do you have a family, Mr. Prescott?"
"No."
"No ex-wife? No children in college?"
"No. My work kept getting in the way of marriage and establishing a family."
"A lady friend?"
"No."
"A boyfriend?"
"I'm not gay," Prescott said with annoyance.
"That's remarkable. I've been protecting people for several years, and this is the first time I've dealt with someone who had no serious social connections. You said your mother was dead. What about your father?"
"Dead also."
"In other words, there's no one in the world who'll miss you if you drop out of sight."
"More or less." Uncomfortable, Prescott glanced down. "Yes."
"That makes it easier," Cavanaugh said, "because a clean break with the past means you'd never have been able to contact your parents if they were alive, or other relatives, or your friends. If you'd wished, a wife and children could have gone with you to your new life, but they'd have had relatives and friends they'd have missed, and eventually you or someone in your family would have been tempted to get in touch with people you cared for in your past. In most cases, if your enemy manages to find you, that's how it's done, by keeping a close watch on the friends and relatives you left behind, by checking their mail and tapping their phones and watching for any change in their routine. Fortunately, that's not going to be an issue here."
"Do you have any fantasy spot where you've always wanted to live?" Duncan asked. "When you decided to disappear, was there a place you had in mind?"
"No." Looking more abandoned, Prescott stared at his wineglass.
"Good," Duncan said. "Because, if you had, you probably would have mentioned it to people you worked with or did business with."
"Casual conversation," Chad said." 'Gosh, wouldn't it be great to live in Aspen and ski whenever I want in the winter.' So you disappear and move to Aspen, and the next thing, Escobar's men come crashing through your back door."
"Do you subscribe to any scientific journals?" Cavanaugh asked.
"Several."
"Not any longer," Duncan said. "Escobar will find out which journals publish articles in your specialty. He'll manage to get his hands on the subscriber list. He'll make a note of which subscribers recently moved and which people subscribed after you disappeared."
"And the next thing you know," Roberto said, echoing Chad's earlier comment, "Escobar's men'll come crashing through your back door."
"Do you like to play golf?" Cavanaugh asked.
"Yes. It's one of the few forms of exercise that-"
"Not any longer. You can't ever go near a golf course again. Escobar will find a way to learn your habits. If he somehow manages to figure out where you've moved, he'll arrange to have someone watch the golf courses, waiting for you to show up. On and on," Cavanaugh said. "Do you understand what we're trying to tell you?"
Prescott gulped the last of his wine and poured another full glass. "When you say 'a new life,' you mean it literally. I have to make a complete break from my past."
"With no exceptions," Cavanaugh emphasized. "The kind of clothes you like. The music you like. The food you like. You're going to have to change all of it. The books you like. Back at the warehouse, you had the collected poems of Robinson Jeffers and a couple of books about him. From now on, Jeffers is one author you can't ever be caught reading."
"You make it sound…" Prescott's voice faltered. "Depressing."
"For many, it is, once the people who disappear finally understand the full implications," Duncan said. "You have to prepare yourself and confront the problem now. How much are you afraid of Escobar? Are you ready to do everything that's necessary, no matter how isolating, in order to keep him away from you?"
Prescott took another long swallow from his glass. "I'm tired of being afraid. Yes." His expression hardened. "I'm ready to do everything that's necessary."
"Good," Duncan said. "Tomorrow, we'll take you to meet Karen in Albany, get your photograph taken, and receive the documents for your new identity."
Tracy suddenly entered the room. "Maybe not."
"Why?" Duncan frowned.
"Three helicopters are headed this way."
8
"Helicopters?"
Duncan came to his feet at the same time Cavanaugh did. Followed by Chad and Roberto, they hurried with Tracy out of the kitchen, along a corridor, and into the control room.
Various television monitors were stacked in rows along a wall, receiving green-tinted night-vision images from cameras positioned around the helicopter and the bunker. But what the team focused its attention on was a radar screen, which showed three blips heading north, approaching the area.
Roberto studied them. "Yeah, the speed and the formation are consistent with helicopters."
"What's happening?" Prescott's strained voice asked behind them.
"We don't know yet," Cavanaugh said. "It might not be anything to concern us."
"The moment they appeared on the radar, heading up the Hudson," Tracy said, "it was obvious they were following the flight plan we filed at Teterboro."