When they got to the suite of offices on the second floor of the Hilton, the three men approached the receptionist. “I’m Kevin Anderson. I’m here to see William Evans.”
“Is he expecting you?”
“No, but something urgent came up and I need to see him as soon as possible.”
The receptionist dialed a number on her telephone console. Kevin could hear her talking to Evans. She put the phone on her shoulder and looked at Kevin. “What is this regarding?”
“I’m afraid it’s personal. It has to do with his previous employment.”
The woman returned to the telephone and repeated what Kevin had said. Kevin hoped that he would not have to be more insistent. He was relieved when the receptionist hung up the phone and said, “Mr. Evans will be with you in a few moments.”
Kevin stood between his two new friends as they waited for Evans to appear. In a few minutes, a short, tanned, gray-haired man came striding down the corridor from behind the receptionist. From a distance, Kevin quickly sized up William Evans; late 50’s, former military, in shape, no-nonsense guy.
Evans looked at Kevin, dwarfed by his two companions.
“Mr. Evans, I’m Kevin Anderson. Thank you for seeing me without an appointment. I’m a lawyer from Santa Rosa, California, and I represent a friend of yours who is in trouble. Can I talk with you in private for a few minutes?”
Evans looked at the business card that Kevin handed him.
“Come into the conference room,” Evans said, leading Kevin into a large room near the lobby.
Kevin’s two escorts – who had given him a small radio-beam “panic button” to depress if he needed them immediately – remained by the receptionist.
Once inside the room, Kevin’s eyes darted to a bank of closed-circuit televisions on one side of the room. The televisions monitored different locations on the casino floor.
Kevin and Evans sat down at a large table. “I represent a man you know as Draga. I was appointed to be his lawyer by the War Crimes Tribunal in The Hague.”
Evans’ face registered neither surprise nor recognition.
“He needs your help.” Kevin paused and waited for Evans to speak.
The man’s face was a mask. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Evans denial came a bit too late, however, and was delivered without any hint of surprise.
Kevin wished he could have been videotaping their meeting.
“I don’t have time to play cat and mouse. My client’s trial starts the week after next. I want to show you some papers that I received.”
Kevin took out copies of Evans’ reports and placed them on the table.
Evans looked at the reports without saying a word. Beads of sweat began to form on his temple.
“Mr. Evans, my client risked his life for you and your agency. The least you can do is talk to me.”
“Alright,” Evans turned to Kevin. “I’ll talk to you. Your client was the CIA’s best asset in Yugoslavia. I know because I was his contact, as you can see. But you’ll never get me to say that in court or anywhere else.”
“Draga’s going on trial for crimes that he is not responsible for. That’s why I came to you. Can’t something be done to help him?”
“He ran that risk from the beginning.” Evans looked Kevin directly in the eyes. “I can’t help him now.”
“What about this?” Kevin pointed to the report that mentioned the list of Black Dragons. “Can you tell me where can I get a list of the members of the Black Dragons?”
Evans studied the report. “I don’t know where you got these reports,” he said, shaking his head, “but I’m sure as hell not going to help you get more.”
Evans stood up. “I’m afraid that I’ve got another meeting. It was nice meeting you,” he said, extending his hand mechanically. “Don’t come back.”
Kevin extended his hand, as well. In it was a subpoena.
“This is a subpoena for you to testify at Draga’s trial, Mr. Evans. You have now officially been served. I had hoped that there was some other way you would help, but if not, this is what I have to do.”
Evans’ face reddened. “You’re a dead man, Mr. Anderson.”
Kevin’s heartbeat quickened.
He followed Evans out the door into the lobby.
“Oh, Mr. Evans,” Kevin took the tape recorder out of his pocket and held it up. “I’d be more careful about what I say in the future. Copies of your reports are already in the hands of someone I trust in the national news media. If anything happens to me, your picture will be on the cover of Time magazine.”
Evans stormed toward his office as Kevin rejoined his two bodyguards. That last bit about the tape and the news media had been Bud’s idea for keeping Kevin alive. The bodyguards were to get Kevin and his tape safely out of the hotel.
“Let’s go, guys,” said Kevin. “I think I hit a sensitive nerve.”
The Lincoln pulled away from the Hilton with Kevin safely in the back seat, on his way to the airport. His heart was still beating rapidly from the excitement. He rewound the tape and played it.
To his relief, it had recorded perfectly, even the “you’re-a-dead-man” part.
By the time he returned to Holland, Kevin was seeing his client in a new light. Whatever his combination of motives, Draga had been helping the good guys.
His first morning back, Kevin headed for the prison. When he got into the interview room, Draga looked happy to see him, then disappointed. “What, no food?”
“It’s still breakfast time. The pizza places aren’t open yet.”
“I haven’t had a good pannekoeken in months. You’re letting me down.”
Kevin pulled out the football results for the past three weeks. “I’ve got some more bad news for you. You owe me 40 more Euros. The Raiders lost two in a row.”
Draga smiled. “The playoffs are coming.”
Kevin shook his head. “Pretty soon you’ll be saying ‘Wait till next year!’”
“I’ve got this all figured out. You’re doomed.”
“I really need to talk to you about something important,” Kevin said. He took out William Evans’ reports and put them in front of Draga. “I want you to take a few minutes to look at these.”
Draga looked down at the papers. He was silent. He began reading the first report, then flipped through the others. “What are these?” The bravado was gone from his voice.
“I think you know. These are reports of an American CIA agent named William Evans, who acknowledged to me that he was your handler.”
Draga was silent – an admission to Kevin that the reports were true.
“I had a meeting with Evans when I was back in the United States. I’d like you to listen to our conversation.”’
Kevin took out the recorder, put the tape inside, and pushed the play button.
When the short tape finished, Kevin looked squarely into Draga’s eyes. “I haven’t asked you to trust me before, but I need you to trust me now. This information can make a huge difference at your trial. The war crimes law makes a commander liable for the actions of his men only where he did not try to prevent the crimes from occurring. You’re not guilty of anything if you in fact tried to alert the CIA in advance. I don’t know what your plan is, but if you think that the CIA is somehow quietly going to get you out of all this – after you’re convicted – I think you are making a big mistake.”
“The Tribunal is not going to let me go no matter what proof we have,” Draga said finally. “All this will do is get me and my family killed.”
Kevin took a deep breath. A crack in Draga’s wall had emerged. “I’m not going to use this information without your approval. I promise you that. But if we don’t use it at your trial, you’ll probably spend the rest of your life in prison.”
Draga looked pained. “They have taken care of me before. I have no choice but to trust them now.”