“Fingerprints, anything like that?” Carrara asked.
“No time, it was a quick in-out. But we managed to get a sample of the gasoline they used. It was normal unleaded, but it was laced with hydrochloric acid. Ten percent.”
Everyone was shaken.
“Even if the fire hadn’t killed Jim, the fumes would have burned out his lungs,” Anders said.
“Determined bastards,” Tyllia commented.
“And ruthless,” Anders agreed.
The telephone at Carrara’s elbow buzzed softly and he picked it up. “Carrara.”
“This is Tony. Kelley Fuller just called.”
Carrara raised his hand for Anders to hold up. “Where is she?”
“Apparently here in Washington. But she used her workname, and she sounded strung out, though she says she’s safe. She’ll call back at 8:32.”
Carrara glanced up at the wall clock. Four minutes. “Did you get a trace?”
“I brought it up, but she was too fast. I’ll get her when she calls back. I offered to send someone for her, sir, but she refused.”
“We’ll keep her at arm’s length for the moment. I don’t want her contaminated.”
“Yes, sir,” the communications man downstairs said, and Carrara hung up.
The Resource and Evaluation Committee for most deep-cover operations in which a blind asset (an agent unknown to the local station) was used included the men in this room along with the Director of Central Intelligence and his deputy, and sometimes the Deputy Director of Intelligence and his assistant.
“Kelley Fuller has surfaced,” Carrara told the others.
“Where?” Wuori, the Far East Desk chief, asked sharply. He’d known Kelley since she was a little girl growing up in Honolulu, his home town.
“Here in Washington. She’s made initial contact and her next call comes in a few minutes.” Carrara picked up the phone and punched the number for the DCI’s locator service. It was Saturday. Murphy had left his office at noon.
“She’s on the run, then. Must have seen something.”
“Presumably,” Carrara said, waiting for his call to be patched through.
“How’d she sound? What’d Tony say?” For a time Wuori had been like a father to Kelley.
It hurt now that she was in Washington, apparently in trouble, and had not called him.
“Shook up, but safe.” Carrara’s call was going through. It rang, and Murphy’s bodyguard answered gruffly.
“Yes.”
“This is a yellow light for the general.”
A moment later Murphy was on the line. “Murphy.”
“She’s surfaced here in Washington,” Carrara said without preamble. Murphy would recognize his voice, and there was no doubt who he was talking about. “She’ll be calling again in a couple of minutes.”
“Is she all right?”
“Tony said she sounded strung out, but she was safe.”
“Any sign that she’s been compromised in Tokyo?”
“We’ve seen or heard nothing,” Carrara said, knowing what was coming next.
“Then send her back, Phil. The bastards hit Jim, there’s no telling if they’ll be content to stop at that.”
“It’s a warning…
“You’re damned right it is,” Murphy growled. “Considering the billions in foreign trade that’s at stake, you and I both know they won’t stop.”
“I’ll meet her tonight.”
“Don’t queer it by being spotted with her,” Murphy said. The instruction stung a little because Carrara was enough of a professional to know as much.
“Sure thing.”
“Listen, Phil, there’s more than just money at stake here. Tokyo Station, among its other troubles, leaks like a sieve. Everytime we sneeze, the Japanese have the handkerchief out even before we start.”
“But this is something new.” Carrara said. Murphy disagreed.
“You’re wrong. Murder is one of the oldest of crimes. Read your Bible.”
“Yes, sir.”
Carrara hung up, thought for a moment, then looked at the others. “If she’s not blown her cover by running, we’re to send her back.”
“For God’s sake, Phil, we’d be signing her death warrant,” Wuori argued.
“We have no evidence that whoever hit Jim was also after her, have we?” Carrara asked.
Anders shook his head.
The phone at Carrara’s elbow buzzed.
“We’ll do what we can to insure her safety, but she goes back,” Carrara said, and he picked up the phone.
“She’s in an apartment on the north side, leased by Lana Toy,” Tony said. “A friend of hers.”
“Right,” Carrara said. “Put her on.” A moment later the incoming call was transferred to the briefing room. “Is that you?” he asked.
“Phil?” Kelley Fuller asked, her voice small and shaky.
“Yes, it is, but listen to me, don’t use names now. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, listen carefully. I want you to stay right where you are for one hour, let’s say until 9:30 sharp. Then I want you to leave the apartment and take the first right.”
“On foot?”
“Yes. I’ll pick you up as soon as I’m sure it’s safe. Do you have that?”
“Yes.”
“All right, I’ll see you in a bit.”
Kelley Fuller had put a light sweater over her shoulders, and Carrara spotted her walking alone north on Second Street toward McMillan Park and the reservoir. He passed her, and swung around the block to come up from behind her again.
So far as he was able to tell, no one was watching her. It had been a few years since he’d been in the field, but some skills were never lost.
He pulled over to the curb before the corner, reached across and opened the passenger door as she was passing. “It’s me,” he called out.
She came immediately over to the car, and got in. “I saw you pass the first time,” she said.
Carrara pulled away, and turned the corner on W Street toward the hospital. “Do you think you were spotted in Tokyo?” he asked.
“It was horrible, Phil. He never had a chance. By the time he knew what was happening it was too late.”
“Were you spotted?”
“If they were watching him they had to know we were seeing each other,” she said.
She was very frightened. It was obvious by the way she held herself and by the shakiness in her voice.
“They were pros, Kelley. If they’d thought you were significant, they would have killed you before you had a chance to run.”
“What are you telling me, Phil?”
“We want you to go back to Tokyo, to your job at the embassy.”
Kelley reared back, a horrified expression coming to her face.
“The problem is not going to go away,” Carrara said. “It was a warning to us, and one that’ll probably be repeated. He was playing on their turf, and evidently he got out of hand.”
“Me next.”
“Not you. But there’s a good chance they’ll go after Ed, if they believe he was involved with Shirley’s… extracurricular activities.” Edward Mowry had been the assistant chief of Tokyo Station. For the moment he was acting COS, his cover now the same as Shirley’s had been, as special economic affairs adviser to the ambassador.
“Then we have to warn him.”
“We’d lose everything we worked for, Kelley. Think it out.” Carrara had fought the entire project, but it had the personal blessing of the entire seventh floor: Murphy, Danielle and Ryan-the unholy trinity.
“He’s a sitting duck,” Kelley cried in anguish.
“I sent a team over to watch out for him, but they’re going to stick out like sore thumbs.”
“What can I do?”