“We’ve done our part,” he said. “A postmortem is all we’re required to give.”
Coates said, “Dick, if we clam up, we’ll be handing him a banner. Look, we give him a few scraps — just enough to placate him — and he goes away.”
Mason looked at his DDL “Sylvia?”
“Might be the best course.”
“Okay. George, put something together. But this time, he’s coming to us. Let’s find out what’s on the good senator’s mind.”
Tanner finished decoding Oaken’s last message on the laptop.
“Good news or bad?” Bear asked.
“A little of both. We have a week before they pull the plug.”
“No surprise there. And the good?”
“The verdict is still out on our haul from the shipyard, but Oaks has figured out the Toshogu angle. Takagi sold her — and I use that word loosely — to a Norwegian company called Skulafjord Limited on whose board he just happens to have a secret seat.”
“What’s their business?”
“Salvage and mining. Apparently Toshogu’s destination is a Skulafjord station on Svalbard Island.”
“So it’s a dead end.”
“Not necessarily. Oaks wants to put a satellite track on her.”
“Good luck. Even if Leland gets the tasking order, it’ll be like looking for a snowflake on a bedsheet. Besides, why go to all the trouble?”
“You mean besides the fact Leland trusts our uncanny instincts?”
“Yeah, besides that,” said Cahil.
“Oaks also found Toshogu was supposed to have been delivered four months ago,” Tanner said. “Takagi Maritime blamed the delay on defects in the rudder post. Supposedly, it was just fixed last week.”
“I don’t buy it.”
“Me neither. Takagi went to a lot of trouble to run interference for her. I’d like to know why.”
“Speaking of Oaks, did he find anything on our other request?”
“Nothing. No wrecks in the last forty years.” One of Tanner’s theories regarding Toshogu’s visits to the waters off the village was that somebody had lost a ship in the area, and Takagi had salvaged it for reasons unknown. “On paper, it’s a dead end.”
Cahil eyeballed his friend; he knew the look on Briggs’s face. Tanner was not about to let a lack of solid evidence throw him off track — not yet.
“But you still want to take a look,” Cahil said.
Tanner smiled. “How’d you guess?”
21
To his own amusement, Charlie Latham loved grocery shopping. It had started when their children were old enough to baby-sit themselves for an hour or two, and he and Bonnie needed time alone. Even now, though the kids had moved away, they still practiced the ritual, pushing the cart up and down the aisles, pricing toilet paper and debating the quality of off-brand canned peaches.
Bonnie walked up to the meat case where Charlie was scrutinizing a package.
“This is a good deal, huh?” he asked.
“Charlie, that’s rump.”
“So?”
“We’re making stew. We need stew meat.”
“Oh.”
Latham’s cell phone buzzed; he mouthed Sorry to Bonnie and answered. “Charlie Latham.”
“Charlie, it’s Paul. Your Shin Bet guy just called. He wants you to call him on a secure line. He sounded pretty excited.”
“Okay. You’ll have to come pick me up… the Fresh-Rite on Burton.” He hung up and handed Bonnie the car keys. She frowned at him. “Sorry, hon. I’ll be home as soon as I can.”
“I’ve heard that before. I’ll keep the stew warm.”
Latham went straight to his office and dialed Avi Haron’s number in Tel Aviv. He glanced at his watch: almost ten at night in Israel.
“Avi, it’s Charlie. What’s up?”
“You remember the three men in the Khartoum photo?”
“Of course.”
“We’ve tracked the European. He’s moving.”
Latham was momentarily confused at Haron’s phrase, “the European,” then he remembered the Israeli’s photo only clearly showed Fayyad; to them, Vorsalov was an unknown. The third man, the other Arab, was still a mystery to everyone.
“You could’ve told me you were tracking them,” Latham said.
“Be thankful I’m calling you at all.”
“Yeah, you’re right. Sorry. What about the other Arab?”
“No luck there.”
“Where’s the European going?”
“Larnaca, Cyprus. He’s booked on the noon flight from Aswan.”
Latham jotted down the particulars. “What’s your stake here, Avi? I mean—”
“Do we plan to intercept him? I doubt it. This is Institute information; if they hadn’t wanted it passed along, I would have never heard about it.”
That made sense, but it wasn’t like Mossad to be magnanimous. What was their agenda? “But you are tracking him.”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know, or you can’t say?”
“I don’t know, Charlie,” said Haron. “I’m surprised they gave us even this.”
“Me too. I owe you, Avi, thanks.”
Within two hours, Latham, Coates, Sylvia Albrecht, and Art Stucky were sitting in Dick Mason’s office.
Haron’s news was big. The primary question was, what to do with it? It was quickly agreed they must tag Vorsalov in Cyprus and keep him under surveillance for as long as possible. If they were lucky, he would lead them to Fayyad. To this end, Coates proposed an unorthodox plan.
“I’m pretty sure the FIS will go along,” he said. “They gave us the Vorsalov tip in the first place.”
“We have no assets in place that could handle it?” Mason asked.
“Not by tomorrow,” said Coates. “But I’m sure the Russians do. If not directly, then through some locals. Cyprus was one the KGB’s favorites for years.”
Mason looked at Latham. “Charlie?”
“If we’re right about Vorsalov and Fayyad’s connection, we can’t afford to miss the chance. He’s moving, and we know where he’s going. That’s an advantage we don’t usually get.”
“Ain’t that the truth. Okay, I’ll make the call. In the meantime, let’s get the ball rolling. George, get the op center staffed. If we’re able to tag Vorsalov, we’d better be ready to track him.”
Fortunately for Mason, the director of the Russian FIS was an early riser. It was not quite dawn in Moscow when the call went through.
Now, after twenty minutes of sparring, Valerei Ryazan was leaning Mason’s way. “What you ask, Richard… It is a difficult thing.”
“But not impossible, Valerei.”
“We have no assets in Cyprus.”
“But you have connections.”
The Russian chuckled. “Perhaps. What would you have us do?”
“Just trail him, find out who he’s meeting, where he’s headed. We’re looking for a possible link.”
“To what?”
“The Delta bombing.”
“I see. I assume you know we want him as well. It would be much easier for us to simply take him.”
“I’m aware of that,” said Mason.
“We could pass along any information we get from him—”
“No good, Valerei. If you take him out of the loop, the rest of the operation — whatever he’s got brewing — would collapse.”
“Da, that is possible. Tell me, Richard, if you were in my place… if you had the chance to capture Vorsalov, you would not hesitate.”