This was just an earthly memorial.
And it occurred to Clark that Edna Driscoll’s realization of this just might help her heal in some small way.
His phone rang in his jacket, and he welcomed the distraction, even though it was a struggle to answer in the rain.
“Clark.”
“Hey, John. It’s Jack.”
Jack Ryan, Jr., was in Italy, this Clark knew because he’d sent him there two weeks earlier. Clark looked at his watch and saw it was afternoon there.
“How’s the girl, kid?”
There was a slight pause. “You mean Ysabel?”
“How many girls do you have over there?”
Jack laughed uncomfortably. “She’s fine, thanks. You do know I’m working, don’t you?”
“Of course I do. Just giving you a little grief.” He looked down at Sam’s grave. “Nobody wants to deprive you of your personal life. There’s little enough of that as it is.”
Jack paused before speaking again. Then, “You okay, John?”
“Absolutely.” The connection was silent until Clark said, “You called me, remember?”
“Yeah. Wanted to see if you could get the guys in the conference room for a ten-minute talk. Nothing earthshaking, just wanted to give everyone a progress report on what I’ve found over here.”
“You learn anything interesting?”
“Yeah. I learned Russian financial shenanigans are complicated.”
Clark turned from Sam’s headstone and began to walk back to his car. “We paid for a first-class seat on Alitalia and a month lease on a furnished apartment in Rome for you to figure that out? Hell, I knew that sitting on my back porch.”
Jack laughed again, more naturally this time. “Well, yeah, I’ve managed to piece together a bit more than that. You guys have time for a briefing?”
Clark said, “Not at present. I sent Dom and Ding on a quick trip to Poland yesterday.”
“Lucky guys.”
Clark snorted. “Says the lucky guy shacking up with his girlfriend in Rome.”
Ryan chuckled awkwardly again, then said, “Okay, how about I just brief you and Gerry?”
Clark replied, “Actually, I’m out of the office at the moment.”
“Really? It’s nine-fifteen in Virginia. Not like you to sleep in.”
“Do you really think I slept in?”
“No, I was just trying to get you to tell me where you are.”
Silence on both ends of the line, until Jack Ryan, Jr., said, “And, apparently, I failed.” Still nothing. “Okay, we can do the call tomorrow.”
“Let’s, but give me the five-second version,” Clark said.
“I’ve identified a lawyer in Luxembourg who is definitely involved in this scheme. When I’m done here, I’d like to go to Luxembourg City to look into him a little more closely.”
“Do you need me to send you some help?”
The answer came quickly. “No, I’m good. This is straight analytical work, nothing dicey. Ysabel and I have it covered here in Rome, and I don’t think I’ll need any more resources in Luxembourg than I do here. I will need another week or so here to finish the job before moving on.”
“Right,” Clark said. John Clark was no fool, he knew what was going on. Jack’s girlfriend was an Iranian national named Ysabel Kashani. She was assisting him there in Rome, and Rome was closer to Tehran than Luxembourg City.
It was also several orders of magnitude more romantic.
Clark almost admonished his young operative. He considered telling him to get his head in the game, but he stopped himself. He’d go easy on Ryan, for a day or two. This operation was important, but this wasn’t a matter of life or death.
The kid could enjoy himself a little bit more. It wouldn’t hurt anybody.
“Okay, kid. I’ll get a conference call set up for this time tomorrow and you can fill us in on what you know.” His voice turned louder and more commanding. “And don’t get complacent over there. I want you practicing your proper OPSEC twenty-four/seven. No excuses, no compromises. Got it?”
“Roger that. Hey, you sure you’re okay, John?”
“I’m outstanding, kid. Talk to you tomorrow.”
Clark hung up the phone, gave one last look to the hillside full of identical white stones, then he bent his head into the rain and climbed into his car.
Jack was right; Clark was late for work.
5
Jack Ryan, Jr., slipped his phone back into his blazer and downed the last few drops of his double espresso. He checked his watch, then picked up the newspaper folded in front of him and glanced at it absentmindedly.
Jack was in his early thirties, just over six feet tall, with short dark hair and a trimmed beard. He wore sensible eyeglasses that, along with his tailored blue blazer, made him look older than his years, but his jeans and easy smile lessened any sense of stuffiness about him. He weighed two hundred five pounds, much of it muscle, but his clothing choices went a long way toward hiding his athletic physique.
He dropped the paper down on the table and looked across the nearly empty café, his eyes searching intently.
He just realized his date had been in the bathroom for a long time. He felt stress growing inside, a sudden feeling of foreboding.
Ysabel reappeared from the women’s restroom as if on cue, looking boyish but beautiful in jeans and a fitted leather jacket, her black hair up in a tight bun.
Jack stifled a sigh of relief, chastised himself for freaking out because a girl just spent a few minutes in the little girls’ room, and reminded himself they weren’t in the middle of a damn war zone.
Not anymore.
Jack stood from the table and pulled her chair out for her, and he called for the check as they both sat back down.
Ysabel said, “Sorry. I know you think I was just preening at the mirror for the last ten minutes.”
“Were you gone long? I hadn’t noticed.”
She smiled. A look that said she didn’t believe him. Shaking her head, she said, “I was touching up my makeup and another woman at the mirror knocked my purse on the floor. Everything fell out.” She giggled. “A girl keeps a lot in her purse, you know.”
“I’ve lifted your purse. Did she at least help you pick everything up?”
“Yes. She was very apologetic and helpful. Just a klutz. What about you? Is everything all right? I thought you said you’d be on the phone awhile.”
“Everything is fine. My boss is out of the office, so I’ll have to make my report tomorrow.”
In a hopeful tone, Ysabel asked, “You’re going to ask for more time here in Rome before you have to go?”
Jack nodded. “Told him we’ll need another week. We’re not quite finished here; plus, I have a lot of analytical prep work to do before I need to be on the ground in Luxembourg. Might as well do it here, since the apartment is paid up until the end of the month.” He affected an air of nonchalance, picking up the folded newspaper again and looking it over as he crossed his legs.
Ysabel frowned, but for only an instant, because Jack slowly looked up at her and grinned. “Kidding. All that’s true, but I’m going to stay another week so you and I can spend some more time together. This working-vacation thing has been awesome. You think we could license it?”
She stood up and came around to his side of the table, sat in his lap and kissed him, but only after punching him on the arm first. He’d gotten used to her playful attitude, to the point he was slowly starting to adopt his own version of it.