“He’s doing well, Tom. No brain damage. They say the vocal chords will mend in time, though he’ll be hoarse.” Anna paused. “Gillian’s my concern. She’s hasn’t left his bedside. She even eats there — when she eats at all. Mrs. Hogan is looking after Cassie. Gillian needs rest, but she acts like he’s at death’s door.”
Dugan saw for himself as they found an unkempt Gillian dozing in a chair under Alex’s worried gaze. Alex frowned up at Dugan’s nose splint, then relaxed as Dugan smiled.
“Thomas,” he croaked.
“The pad, Alex,” Anna reminded him, nodding toward a pad and pen on the side table. Gillian roused and jumped up like a soldier caught sleeping on guard duty.
“Mr. Dugan…” She stopped, befuddled.
“Gillian,” Anna said, “please go home and rest. Harry’s waiting to drive you.”
She shook her head. “I can’t possibly. He may need something.”
“He’ll be discharged soon,” Anna said, “and when he really needs you, you’ll be exhausted. I insist you go rest.”
“Oh, you insist, do you…” Gillian started, then she sagged, on the verge of tears. “May… maybe you’re right. I’m just so confused.…”
Alex held up his pad, a message scrawled in block letters.
ANNA’S RIGHT, LUV. GO REST. I’M FINE.
Mrs. Farnsworth nodded, and Anna embraced her. “Don’t worry. We’ll look after him,” she whispered as she walked Gillian to the elevator.
“Alex,” Dugan said as they left, “I’m responsible for this. If we’d leveled with you sooner, you wouldn’t be in that bed. And if we hadn’t let the bastards grab Cassie—”
Alex scribbled furiously and held up the pad.
DID YOUR BEST. CASSIE SAFE. ALL THAT MATTERS.
Before Dugan could reply, Anna returned, Ward at her side.
“Look whom I found getting off the lift.” She smiled as Ward advanced with outstretched hand, shaking first Alex’s hand, then pumping Dugan’s.
Ward cocked an eye. “How the hell do you break your nose drowning?”
“I had help. Russian this time. I’m an equal-opportunity punching bag.”
Ward chuckled, then turned serious. “You know about Braun?”
Dugan nodded. “Can’t say it breaks my heart, but where do we stand?”
“If by ‘we’ you mean you and Alex,” Ward said, “I’d say you’re in good shape. We got enough out of Braun before he passed to combine with what we knew from other sources to piece together the plot.” Ward smiled at Anna. “And using a rather liberal interpretation, we classified the info from Braun as a deathbed confession, which carries legal weight. The Panamanians have dropped the charges against you, and no charges will be filed against either you or Alex in the UK or the US.”
“Anna told me,” Dugan said, “but is Gardner really signing off on that?”
Ward smiled again. “A lot of folks up the food chain are looking now. Larry Boy wants to take a bow. Given your results in Turkey, he can hardly throw you under the bus again without looking like the asshole he is.”
Ward’s smile faded. “If only everything had worked out as well.”
“What do you mean?” Dugan asked. “You got it figured out. Can’t you go public or to the UN or the World Court or someplace?”
“Knowing and proving are not the same, Tom,” Anna said. “And for all our efforts, the plotters succeeded.”
“Well, not Venezuela,” Ward said. “Best we figure there, Rodriguez wasn’t trying to destroy the canal, merely spook China into backing a second canal through Nicaragua. One big enough for VLCCs to get his crude to Asian markets without a competitive disadvantage. That literally blew up in his face. Ironically, the disaster in Panama worked to his buddy Motaki’s advantage. When the Turks dodged the bullet, it didn’t take too much imagination to figure out just how bad it could have been.”
“So you can’t prove it in court,” Dugan said, “so what? Surely you have enough to share with the Russians and the Chinese? I can’t believe they’ll sit still for this.”
“What choice do they have even if we convince them?” Ward asked. “The Chinese won’t even openly admit they were victims, because to them, it would be a big loss of face. They’ll likely internalize it and make the plotters pay, but it may be years from now. And Motaki’s got Russia by the balls. He needs Russia as a safe, overland supplier of fuel — a source we can’t use our naval presence to interdict, but now Russia needs Iran’s crude even more.”
“I don’t see how that necessarily makes Iran any more secure,” Dugan said. “If our navy can cut off gasoline going into Iran by tanker, surely we can do the same for crude coming out by tank—” He stopped. “Oh yeah.”
“Right,” Ward said, “no one in the West is going to get too upset if we embargo gasoline into Iran, but the crude coming out to fulfill Russian supply contracts is going to our European allies. The idea of stopping Iranian crude exports is unlikely to get much traction, not with Russian crude off the market.”
Dugan looked thoughtful. “Then maybe we should concentrate on getting Russian crude back on the market,” he said.
“That should just about do it,” Dugan said, nodding at the pile of maps and intelligence briefing reports piled on the table in front of him. “This was terrific — a hell of a lot more information than I’m used to working with.”
Beside him, Harry scratched his head. “So tell me, Yank, how is it a ship bloke knows so bloody much about overland pipelines?”
Dugan smiled. “I’m a graduate of Tanker Trade 101 at the prestigious Alex Kairouz School of Economics. At some point or another, almost all pipelines end at a marine terminal where ships pump something in or take something out. Alex figured that out a long time ago. Pay attention to new pipelines — get a leg up on future trade patterns.”
“This is first-rate, Tom,” Anna said. “It will take some work on the diplomatic front, but the Russians should go for it. Motaki will be right back to square one — short of fuel and facing domestic unrest.”
“Actually,” Dugan said, “I’ve been thinking about that. I think maybe our Russian friends should give Mr. Motaki all the fuel he wants.”
“What do you mean?” Ward asked.
“I mean sometimes you should be careful what you wish for,” Dugan said.
“Thank you once again, Agent Ward,” Reyes said, shaking Ward’s hand.
“The pleasure was mine, Lieutenant,” Ward said. “Have a safe trip home.”
Reyes nodded. “I wonder if I might have a word alone with Señor Dugan.”
Ward shot Dugan a puzzled frown. Dugan shrugged. “OK by me,” he said.
“Ah… fine,” Ward said. “I’ll just go get the car and meet you at the passenger pickup point, Tom.” Ward turned back to Reyes. “I’ll be in touch about our joint operation in your area, Lieutenant.”
Reyes nodded, and Ward walked away, leaving Dugan alone with the big Panamanian. Reyes waited until he was sure Ward was out of earshot.
“First, Señor Dugan, let me apologize for my regrettable behavior during our first meeting,” he said.
“Understandable,” Dugan said, “given the circumstances.”
“Thank you,” Reyes said. “I wished to speak to you alone because I have some concerns to which I believe you will be more sympathetic than your colleagues.”