Hood agreed to do so. Then he told Kline about Richard Stiele's activities. Kline did not seem overly concerned. Nor would he be. Whatever the Europeans were doing probably would not impact the Vatican directly. Hood told Kline that he would keep him abreast of any new developments, whether or not they appeared to relate to Father Bradbury.
"Just to keep you fully in the loop," Hood said pointedly.
Kline thanked him.
A few minutes after Kline hung up, Hood's computer beeped. He had received a file containing the address for the secure Vatican Security Organization web site. The download came with a password to access the Dhamballa file. The password was adamas. From four years of high school Latin, Hood remembered that was the word for diamond. Someone in the VSO had a clear sense of the region. Or else they knew more than Kline was letting on.
Hood forwarded the information to Stephen Viens. Until recently, Viens had been the Satellite Imaging supervisor at the National Reconnaissance Office. A college classmate of Matt Stoll, Viens had always given Op-Center's requirements top priority. For that reason, among others, Viens was scapegoated for two billion dollars in funding that did not reach its targeted black ops programs. Bob Herbert helped to prove the man's innocence. Op-Center was punished by having their needs given VLP status-very low priority. Fortunately, Viens still had friends at the NRO. He did not go back to his former post. He now worked as Op-Center's internal security chief. Viens's duties included setting up a photo analysis program for Hood. Hood also sent the Vatican address to Herbert and Rodgers.
As Hood finished sending the data from the Vatican Security Organization, Emmy called.
"Paul, that was a terrific lead you gave me about Albeit Beaudin," she told him.
"How so?" Hood asked.
"It turns out Mr. Stiele wasn't the only Beaudin associate who liquidated assets within the last few days," she said.
"Who else?" Hood asked.
"Gurney de Sylva, who is another Beaudin board member,"
Emmy said. "He sold his minority interest in six different diamond mines yesterday."
"Where are the mines located?" Hood asked.
"Throughout southern Africa," she replied.
"How much did he net?" Hood asked.
"About ninety million dollars," Emmy replied. "He turned around and put most of that money into corporations that are invested in oil operations in Russia and Mexico."
"Maybe he thinks oil is a better long-term investment," Hood speculated.
"Possibly," Emmy said. "But some of the profits also went into the corporation that holds Stiele's land leases in China."
"So the oil deal could be a smoke screen to keep anyone from looking too closely at China," Hood said.
"Or he could pull those investments at some point and put them into China," Emmy pointed out. "He did not indicate his long-term plans in the filing. Then again, he is not the most forthcoming investor we've ever tracked. He once avoided capital gains taxes by donating millions of dollars to a charity for the homeless, the Rooftop Angels."
"Weren't they shut down in 2001 for money laundering?" Hood asked.
"They were," Emmy said. "For every hundred dollars they received, the Angels gave back eighty dollars in cash. It was distributed through safe-deposit boxes, traveler's checks, and other monetary media. We could never prove that Stiele received any of what was doled out. None of his accounts showed any unusual spikes."
"That doesn't mean anything," Hood said. "The cash could still be sitting somewhere. Hell, he could be using it for groceries."
"Absolutely," Emmy said. "But that's an ongoing investigation, which is why the red flag went up on his latest stock sales. So far, we haven't been able to find anything that violates international law. However, I did discover a tie between de Sylva and Peter Diffring that goes beyond the Beaudin board. One that has nothing to do with China."
"Oh?"
"With several local businessmen, Diffring co-owns the construction company that did geologic and environmental site surveys on hotel sites in Botswana," Emmy said. "The sale required a filing with the Land Valuation division of the Department of Surveys and Mapping."
"Who did they buy the land from?" Hood asked.
"It was purchased from a tribe, the Limgadi," Emmy told him.
"Did they indicate what the land was to be used for?" Hood asked.
"The stated purpose is to 'develop transportation facilities,' " she informed him.
"How long ago did Diffring buy into that construction cornpany?" Hood asked.
"Four months ago," Emmy replied. "The land office in Botswana says that so far, Diffring's group has put in a small landing strip. Nothing more. All of this could mean absolutely nothing, Paul."
"I know," he said. But his gut told him otherwise.
"It's not exactly uncommon for people to set up synergistic businesses in areas they plan to develop," she said.
"Of course," Hood replied.
There was a vast distinction between the kind of conspiracy Hood was envisioning and sound business opportunities Emmy had just described. These activities might have nothing whatsoever to do with Dhamballa and his group. It could all be a trick of timing.
Then again, maybe it was not. Paul Hood and his team were paid to assume that whatever was on the surface was a front. Effective crisis management had to presume guilt, not innocence.
Hood thanked Emmy for her efforts. They made dinner plans for the following week. The woman had gotten married a few months before, and she wanted Hood to meet her husband. Hood was glad for her. At the same time, he felt sad for himself. This was the first time in twenty years that he would be odd man out at a social dinner.
As Hood was finishing up with Emmy, Mike Rodgers came to the door. Hood thanked Emmy. They agreed to talk again later in the day. Rodgers entered and took a seat. The general looked better than he had in weeks. He seemed energized, engaged, focused.
"How's the team shaping up?" Hood asked.
"Aideen Marley and Dave Battat are ready to go over if we need them," Rodgers said.
"They got along all right?" Hood asked.
"They got along well enough," Rodgers replied. "They're not running off to get married, but they'll get the job done."
"Where's the rub?" Hood asked.
"David knows his stuff and likes to beat you over the head with it," Rodgers told him. "Aideen has a solid foundation, somewhat less experience, but a whole lot more tact."
"Who'd be the better mission leader?" Hood asked.
"In this situation? She would," Rodgers said. "I already made that call. She will interact with ordinary people better than he will."
"Battat is okay with that?" Hood asked.
"To get back in the field? Yeah, he's okay with that," Rodgers said.
Hood regarded the general. Military people looked at things differently than civilians. Hood liked to have harmony on his staff. Rodgers put the emphasis on efficiency.
"Don't worry about them, Paul," Rodgers said. "Battat knows that Aideen will be in charge. They'll be fine."
Hood hoped that Rodgers was right. He had not anticipated fielding the new intelligence team this quickly, but Op-Center needed people on site. Given the haste, Hood also hoped that he had been right giving Mike Rodgers this assignment. He respected the hell out of the general. He admired Rodgers's ability to command. But Rodgers had suffered a heavy blow with the loss of the Strikers. Psychologically, both Hood and Rodgers were in uncharted territory.
Until recently, Paul Hood had not believed in psychiatry. He felt that character came from dealing with your own problems. Then Harleigh was taken hostage at the United Nations. Op-Center's staff psychologist Liz Gordon and other mental health specialists helped see the girl through her blackest days. They gave Harleigh her life back, and they gave Hood his daughter back.