After a pause, Wade abruptly changed the subject. “Do we have anything scheduled for this week?”
“No. You’ve got the week to yourself. Just make sure you get those incompletes removed. I don’t want any black marks on my record.”
“I can’t imagine you with black marks.”
“I wish you were here right now.”
“Me too.”
A tiny part of Wade remained suspicious about Megan and the agency. He wasn’t sure if the agency was directing her to pump him for information or if she just asked too many questions out of curiosity. Either way, he couldn’t take a chance. His gut told him she was as honest about her feelings toward him as he was with her. The last thing he could afford now was to send a suspicious message that something might be wrong in their relationship.
Wade was working intently on his final class paper when the phone rang.
“Hi, it’s Yari. I think I have the name of the CIA guy in Vietnam: Daniel Spencer. He left the agency after his Vietnam tour and went back to being an insurance agent in his hometown in Raleigh, North Carolina. He died shortly after he returned home.”
“Really? How did he die?”
“According to the local newspaper article, he was killed by a hit-and-run driver. They never found the driver.”
“Do we know why he left the Agency?”
“I wasn’t able to find out specifically why he left, but there were a few notes about a drug investigation that might have involved him. Most of his file is buried under lock and key at the Pentagon, so I’ve hit a dead end on Spencer. I think there could be something in his file the Agency doesn’t want discovered.”
“His death seems like another strange coincidence.”
“I’m also monitoring Morrison’s communications. He received a toxicology report on Lockhart’s death. The drugs involved go by some obscure names, which nobody seems to know anything about. One of the drugs seems to come out of India and the other out of Malaysia. There are some other high-end binding chemicals involved. These are not street drugs. From monitoring Morrison’s calls, it’s clear that he’s spending a lot of time trying to track down the source of these drugs.”
“Is there anything else going on at Fort Benning on this issue?”
“Apparently Morrison is working with someone at Fort Benning regarding what was found at our shooting site. Benning has agreed to release their forensics findings to him.”
“Anything else?”
“Yeah, actually. Remember the CID communication link I had on Mashburn?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s dead now. For whatever reason, Mashburn and CID aren’t communicating.”
“I wonder if CID cut him off, or if they’re using another communication device. Maybe Morrison was getting too close with his investigation.”
“I’ve got a tap on the phone Mashburn uses for most of his calls. But all of a sudden, CID has stopped calls in both directions. I do have Mashburn making two calls to a new number in Brussels. I’m now tracking that number.”
Wade shook his head. “What the hell is that all about?”
“I don’t know, but they’re easy to monitor. The two calls still referenced Macho, but I’m not sure if that refers to a person or an operation. The person on the receiving end of Mashburn’s calls is referred to as ‘Condor.’ I’m in the process of tracing that code name to the Brussels location.”
“It sounds like command authority may be shifting its focus to this Condor person.”
After a long pause Yari broke the silence. “There’s something else going on in the conversation that you might find interesting.”
“What’s that?”
“They’re talking about extraction routes and options out of Spain.”
“That’s interesting. Sounds like something has or is about to go down. Where are Mashburn’s calls originating from?”
“Mostly from a town in Spain called Zaragoza, which is about midway between Madrid and Barcelona.”
Wade nodded without realizing it. “It’s normal operating procedure to be close to two extraction points. My instincts are telling me we have to double our efforts on Mashburn right now. I’m going to do some research on President Franco and Condor. Keep me posted on any discussions Mashburn has.”
“Will do, partner.”
The university library was far from Wade’s apartment, and he used it often. There were a couple of things he wanted to look up at the library for his class paper, but mainly he wanted to research President Franco of Spain.
He was amazed at how much public information was available on Spain and the Franco regime. It didn’t take a genius to see the U.S. was clearly shuffling its feet between blasting the guy for his brutal, tyrannical methods and maintaining some semblance of diplomatic protocol.
The contradictory political positions of the U.S. didn’t explain why the U.S. would covertly support a dictator by sending in a covert assassin like Mashburn. Something was amiss. Wade’s instinct had him thinking: Could Mashburn be there as a double agent?
The code name Condor in Brussels was next on Wade’s agenda, but he wasn’t going to find anything at the library except references to the near-extinct bird of the same name. Wade racked his brain, for anyone he knew in the Agency old enough to know operatives in Brussels.
In one of his international legal classes, Wade met Bob Hollings, an older European CIA operative taking the refresher course. They had exchanged contact information during the class. It was a long shot, but why not give old Bob a call? Perhaps Bob recalled something about the name Condor that didn’t refer to a bird. Wade checked the time differences in Europe and called when he thought Bob might just be home relaxing.
“Hi, Bob, it’s Wade Hanna. We took the international legal class together a few months back.”
“Yes, I remember. How are you doing?”
“Doing great. Almost done with my coursework and ready to graduate. I’ll be glad when it’s all over.”
“I bet you will. What can I do for you?”
“I came across a name in Brussels I’m trying to research, and just thought you might know an operative who goes by the code name Condor.”
“Yes, I know that name, but I haven’t heard it in many years. I think he might be an old timer like me. There was an operative by that name who decided to leave the company about eight years ago to retire and go independent.”
He paused while trying to summon up old memories.
“Last I remember was a few years ago, when the company would give him a little low-level contract work now and then. He used to operate out of Brussels, I believe. But I haven’t heard of him doing any contract work in the last three or four years. I assume he’s long retired by now.”
“Did you know anything about him? Like what kind of operations he ran or what his real name was?”
“Let me think. He did some black ops stuff in the old days, but his real forte was making good connections with higher-ranking foreign offices in the European intelligence community right after the war. I can’t remember which countries. We used him to broker information when things were politically sensitive, as I recall.”
“Do you remember if one of those countries was Spain?”
“Come to think of it, Spain was one of the main countries he focused on.”
“Do you remember what his real name was?”
“I can’t think of his last name, but I think his first name was Myles. I can probably get that last name for you by making a few calls.”
Wade realized he had a connection to Condor and didn’t want further links getting back to the man. He thought it best to cut this part of the conversation off immediately. He would explore other sources on his own if he needed more information.
“No. That’s okay for now. You’ve been very helpful.”