Lori's eyes gaped in horror. Her heart had begun to pound almost visibly. "But that's forbidden by presidential order."
"Oh, yes, of course. Forbidden for the Agency. But who can control what friends do on their own? It's a rarity, I understand. But some overzealous division chiefs are rumored to be using that subterfuge."
"I have to go, Uncle Sydney," she said, her voice strained. "Thank you for calling."
Burke stared at her in alarm. "What was that all about?"
"You've got to get out of here right away. Before Allen and his goons get here."
"What's their problem?"
"They evidently want you out of the way, one way or the other. Langley has asked for British help with something called a Black Cloud Alert. Pack your bag and get ready. I'll call a travel agent contact and have you a ticket waiting at Northwest Airlines. We'll route you through Tokyo to San Francisco." The quick-thinking, fast-moving Lorelei Quinn of Clipper Cruise & Travel was in control.
"If the SIS is looking for me at Kai Tak, I won't get very far."
"Do you have that extra passport with you?" Her look said volumes.
He broke into a smile, nodding. "I was a good boy. I followed your orders, ma'am."
"Then get moving. You'll barely have time to shave off that beard. Try not to disfigure yourself. You need to look like the photo on that passport. By the way, what's your new name?"
"Douglas Bell. I'm a private investigator from Atlanta. I even have business cards."
"If you don't hurry and get out of here, you'll need more than that."
When Burke returned to her room a few minutes later, he had changed clothes, shaved, and was carrying his bag. She stared at him open-mouthed.
"My, you are a handsome devil, Mr. Bell," she said, breaking into a smile. "And you look years younger. I don't think there's much chance of the CIA or the SIS spotting you."
"I left some of my clothes and toilet articles in the room in case Allen wants a look. Maybe you can delay him with the story that I've just gone up the street looking for a new hair dryer or some such."
"Good idea. Here, take one of my bags and put yours back in there. We can change the luggage tags. That will make it look more believable."
Burke quickly switched the bags. "Burn that letter from Cam," he said, an anxious look on his face. "And don't let Allen give you a hard time when he finds out I'm gone. Blame it all on me."
"Don't worry, I'll be okay. You're the one I'm concerned about. I've just lost the most important man in my life. I don't want to lose another. Where will you go when you get to the States?"
He had already thought about that. "I'll fly into Baltimore. They'll be less likely to look for me there. I hope Hawk Elliott doesn't stumble onto my Doug Bell identity for awhile."
"Dad always kept his own counsel. I don't imagine he talked to anyone but the people who made the documents. Call me Saturday. I don't think they'd tap my line, but use the name Kennedy just in case. Say you're an old friend of Dad's from Boston and you just heard about him." Then she had another idea. "If we need it, we could use a simple code to pass short messages. It involves a short sentence, using the first two letters of each word."
She quickly explained the procedure for using the code, and Burke nodded his understanding. "Got it. Now I'd better get out of here. I'll take the stairs down to the next floor.”
“One other thing,” she said, grabbing her handbag off the bed and pulling out a card. She handed it to him. “This is a Clipper Travel credit card. Use it to make your phone calls. If you use your own, they can track your movements.”
“Good thinking. Bye, Lori." He had the urge to take her in his arms, but he put it out of his mind. This was no time for indulging in fantasies.
But when she hurried across to open the door for him, she planted a big kiss on his cheek. "Do be careful, Burke."
He smiled and gave her a hug with his free arm. "You can count on it."
As Burke was stepping into the taxi, Sam Allen and two younger men rushed up to the hotel entrance. Allen shot a glance in his direction, but promptly turned toward the doorway, obviously unconcerned with the clean-shaven fellow boarding the cab. Burke leaned toward the driver, barked "Kai Tak," and then settled back in the seat, feeling the perspiration trickle down inside his shirt, a circumstance not entirely attributable to Hong Kong's fiery afternoon sun.
He hurried into the airport terminal, which appeared only a little less crowded than the sidewalks on Nathan Road. He looked about for the Northwest counter. As he was walking toward the ticket area, he noticed a conservatively dressed man standing beyond the hustle and bustle of travelers, glancing at something, possibly a folder, that he held in one hand. It might have been a travel brochure, but when he looked up, letting his gaze sweep the area like a radar beam, Burke knew he was no ordinary traveler. The eyes seemed to lock onto his own, and the man started moving toward him. Was he holding a photo, a pose that had somehow sparked a possible glimmer of recognition?
Burke averted his eyes and, as he did, saw a middle-aged woman holding one small child and trying to corral another who appeared determined to wander off. Burke broke into a smile and swooped down on the errant youngster, grabbing him up in his arms. He nodded at the woman, apparently their grandmother.
"Can I help?" he asked pleasantly. "This young fellow seems bent on escaping."
She laughed, shaking her head. "I wish I had their energy. I'm trying to keep them together while my daughter is off looking for their father."
The small boy frowned at Burke and said with youthful indignation, "You're not my daddy."
"You're right about that, fella," Burke said. He checked out of the corner of his eye and saw the possible pursuer had turned and was walking off in another direction. Was he letting paranoia cloud his thinking, or had his sudden inspiration defused a possibly sticky encounter? Burke put the youngster down, lifting the child's hand up to his grandmother's. "If you'll stay put here, maybe your daddy will be along in a few minutes." He smiled back at the woman. "Good luck. I'd better run."
And with that he strode across to the shortest ticket line, moving up a few minutes later to give the clerk his name. It wasn't long before he was heading through security and into the gate area, where the flight to Tokyo was due to board in about half an hour.
Chapter 26
Burke checked through customs in San Francisco without incident late the same evening, California time. He walked around to the domestic terminal area and bought a ticket to Baltimore via O'Hare. It was a red-eye flight that would put him in Chicago Friday morning, with a four-hour layover. He stopped in a gift shop to pick up a newspaper, then found a table in the restaurant next door and ordered a cup of coffee. He unfolded the paper, hoping to catch up on the news. He hadn't had time to read a newspaper in days. The city's preoccupation with earthquake mania led off the local coverage, with the international spotlight focused on Europe. There was considerable space devoted to the Russians' continuing problems with growing unemployment, food shortages, and independence-minded republics. A small sidebar story dealt with the upcoming summit, with a box promoting an article on page ten that detailed plans for the big celebration in Toronto two weeks off. Fleetingly, he wondered if the CI staff had turned up any potential threats among the terrorists.
The long flight from Hong Kong, plus the tedious wait in the San Francisco terminal, provided Burke more than ample time to sort out the facts and plan his next move. First priority was to track down whatever he could learn about Robert Jeffries. If Jeffries was the recipient of the intercepted May seventh call, which now seemed certain, he would be working now with the Jabberwock team. Consequently, when Burke reached Chicago, he had his morning coffee, wandered about the shops until time for the business day to begin, then settled down in a telephone cubbyhole and placed a call to the chief of security at the headquarters of Rush Communications in Kansas City.