‘Good.’ Chapin stood up and looked at Teller and Cassler. ‘Let’s meet again when something develops. Keep checking the voicemail box for messages.’
As the men filed out of the room, Chapin touched Benson’s sleeve. The senior lawyer waited for the others to move ahead along the corridor before saying softly, ‘I think there have been enough accidents, Howard, don’t you? I’m not sure how far you think you can take this, but I should hate for it to spread further.’
‘Whatever do you mean?’ Benson did his best to look innocent, but the glint of devilment lurking in his eyes was unconvincing. In spite of the momentary setback with his access to Langley, he was enjoying the secret power he was wielding elsewhere far too much, and exerting a terminal control over Conkley and Cready had been like a shot in the arm.
The senior lawyer was too experienced to have missed it. He had seen similar expressions in the eyes of other men over the years; mostly people like Benson, who liked giving orders but rarely if ever had to carry out the deed. Over time he had come to the conclusion that for them it was a need, something primeval long hidden by circumstance and lifestyle, but which eventually found its way to the surface. He studied the senator’s face for a few moments and wondered what they had created between them. Or whether it had always been there, waiting to surface. Had Benson been hiding another persona all these years, and their current situation was now allowing him an excuse to vent some secret desires?
If so, it was time to rein him in before he went too far and ruined them all.
His grip intensified on Benson’s arm. Although he clearly wasn’t well to those who knew him, the lawyer still had strong hands. ‘I’m not a fool, Howard. I know what it’s like to have the power to make life and death decisions. I had to use it more than once in my time. But I never got used to it, not like some. Not like you.’
Benson tried to shake him off, but failed. ‘What are you saying, old man?’
Chapin leaned closer as an intern walked past and disappeared down the corridor. ‘I’m saying, just in case you consider that any of us closer to home might become — what was it you called them once — “casualties of war”? — you might take note that I have a great deal of information that might prove … damaging, if I should meet with a fate similar to Conkley. Or Marcella Cready.’
Benson shook his head and jerked his arm free, his mouth dropping open. ‘What the hell are you—’
‘I just heard the news, Howard.’ Chapin held up his smart phone. ‘The wonders of modern technology and rolling reports, you see. Something we could have done with in my day, I have to say. I didn’t want to air this in front of the others because I doubt they would have understood the significance. They’re simple money men, not versed in the dark arts of intelligence work. But I might tell them yet, if the need arises. Cassler probably wouldn’t give it a moment’s thought; he’s too wrapped up in his portfolios and making the next million. But Teller? He might care. A lot. He was once very close to Marcella Cready, did you know that?’ The lawyer noted the flash of concern that appeared briefly in Benson’s eyes. Then it was gone, to be replaced by an amused frown.
‘I said before, Vernon, I have no idea what you’re talking about. Truly. Are you sure your illness isn’t having an adverse effect on your judgement? I’d hate to think you might consider talking outside this building. In any case, what’s this “information” you say you have? Haven’t you noticed how careful I’ve been in the past not to put anything in writing?’
Chapin smiled. ‘Who said writing, Howard?’ He raised a finger, making a circular movement which took in their opulent surroundings and the very fabric of the building. ‘You should bear in mind that old wartime saying: walls have ears. Walls have ears.’
FIFTY-SEVEN
‘Watchman, you have two miles to go before you reach a farm building marked as deserted. Just past it is a turning on your left. We’re advised that this is an unmarked access road for forest workers and border patrols, although rarely used. Take this turning and you will be on a thousand-metre track to the border itself.’
‘Copy that. Are there any active patrols in the area?’ We were now so close I was ready to blow through anything that showed itself. But the proximity of freedom is a siren call to the unwary. Border patrols are usually connected by radio with regular checks by their control room to make sure all is well. And in a country where civil and military unrest was compounded by threats from across their borders, they would probably now be at a severe level of awareness. Running into a bunch of armed and touchy troopers under such conditions wasn’t something that would end well.
‘None visible and no marked obstacles that I can see. The track runs through a stretch of woodland to a simple fence. Beyond the fence is Moldovan territory. Your ride will be waiting for you there.’
‘Good to hear. Is Callahan there?’ I had to ask him about the leak; not that there was anything I could do about it right now, but the sense that we’d been betrayed had been digging away at me ever since Voloshyn’s appearance at the Tipol, and I wanted him to know that I wasn’t about to let it go. He could always refuse to discuss it, but I didn’t think he would; he came across to me as a straight kind of guy with a bagful of experience and would go as far as he could to put things right.
Callahan came on. ‘Go ahead, Watchman.’
‘You’ve got a serious leak in the system. You know that?’
There was a long sigh. ‘Yes, I know. I’ve initiated a background check of certain people. I’m sorry, Portman. My hands are tied. I can’t say more.’
He sounded sick with anger, and I figured he knew or suspected who the likely leak had to be. It made me think the suspect must be someone of note, and not a staff member low down in the pecking order. But he wasn’t about to tell me any names, and with good reason; although I was working for the CIA on this job, I wasn’t part of their club, the inner circle of intelligence professionals. Like any organization with a pride in its own integrity, the CIA likes to clean house itself without involving outsiders.
‘You know it’s not Lindsay, though, right?’ I had to make sure of that.
If he was surprised that I knew her name, he didn’t say so. ‘I know. She’s in the clear, don’t worry. I’m afraid it’s a lot higher than that; somebody with top-level access to the facility. Be assured we will deal with it. Hold one moment.’
I heard him talking in the background. Then he came back. ‘I have to go. Before I do there’s something you should know about the man Voloshyn: he’s almost certainly an FSB officer on secondment. His employers, BJ Group, have security contracts with the Russian government, and in turn have connections with Russian organized crime.’
It provided answers to some questions about how Voloshyn might have been able to gain the knowledge that he had. It also ramped up the kind of opposition we were facing. It made me wonder which side of the fence Voloshyn was currently working on — or whether there was even a divide at all. ‘Sounds to me like your mole must have the same connections.’
‘Yes. Uh, Watchman, let me put you back to Lindsay. She’ll help you with anything else you need. Stand by.’
It sounded like Callahan was having problems, and I wondered what was going on inside the bubble that was Langley. Work enough with people in the world of security and intelligence and you learn to pick up on their love of nuance and hidden meanings. It’s almost as if it’s a requirement of their job. But it’s easy to get led into seeing things that aren’t there, understanding things that aren’t actually said. People talk in ways that imply without being clear, and after a while everything has a dual meaning, even when it shouldn’t. However, I had a feeling that Callahan wasn’t simply being elliptical; he’d found a way of sending me some kind of message.