"She's following him in a cab," Hood said. "I was hoping we could get some of your people to watch out for her. She's alone over there."
"I'll get right on it," Kline said. "Are you in touch with her?"
"Yes," Hood said.
"What is her present location?" Kline asked.
"She's headed back into Maun," Hood said.
"In a taxi, you say?" Kline said.
"Right."
"Maybe the soldiers can rent a helicopter at the airfield and track her," Kline said. "Or the local police must have a small plane they can use."
"I do not want you to do that," Hood said.
"Why?"
"If the deacons are Brush Vipers, or operatives of any ability, they'll notice a spotter," Hood said.
"Does that matter?" Kline asked.
"It does if you want to recover Father Bradbury," Hood said.
"Assuming he's still alive," Kline said.
"He's alive," Hood said confidently. "If the Brush Vipers were behind this killing, they knew they would need a hostage. If they weren't, they have no reason to kill him."
Kline was silent. Hood began to wonder if they had been disconnected.
"All right," Kline said at last. "I'll buy that."
"If the Brush Vipers think they're being tailed, my guess is they'll try to get their hands on the plane or chopper and its pilot." Hood accessed the topographical map on his computer. "If they manage to do that, we'll have a tough time picking them up again. We can tap into South African radar, but it may not be able to find them if they fly low in the Okavango Basin."
"That may be true, Paul, but how the Brush Vipers are tracked is out of my hands," Kline told him. "Now they've killed a man. According to the leader of the Spanish team, both the local police and the national police wilMpe moving against the assassins."
Hood swore.
"Based on their conversations with the local authorities," Kline went on, "the Botswana National Police have taken over the case from the police in Maun. Apparently, attacking a local individual remains a local matter. Once an international figure is involved, the state becomes involved."
Hood noticed Mike Rodgers's instant message about the church on his computer.
"Edgar, let me ask you something," Hood said. "Is there a church in Maun proper?"
"There's a multidenominational chapel," Kline replied. "It started out as a Catholic church. We opened it to other faiths when we established the Church of the Holy Cross at the tourist center. It was a show of good faith."
"Do you happen to know if the church has Internet access?" Hood asked.
"I can find out for you," Kline said. "Why do you ask?"
"If the police are closing in, we may need to send our people data at a place where they won't have to look over their shoulders," Hood said. He did not want to tell Kline about Maria's photographs. The Botswanans might want to confiscate the camera.
"Hold on," Kline said.
"While you're looking," Hood went on, "what is the name of the dead security guard?"
"Festus Mogami," Kline said.
"Are they sure that's his real name?" Hood asked.
"Pretty certain," Kline said. "He's been at the airport for at least two years, according to one of the ticket agents."
Hood instant-messaged that name over to Bob Herbert. It sounded, on the surface, like the kind of mob hits he used to see in Los Angeles. An outsider was hired to kill an important figure. Then he was shot by the backup gunmen or the people who were supposed to get him out.
"The church in Maun does have an E-mail address, so obviously they're on-line," Kline said.
Kline provided the E-mail address. He also gave Hood an up-to-date list of the pastors who held services at the chapel.
Hood sent all the information to Herbert as well.
"Is there anything else you can tell me?" Hood asked.
"What are you looking for?" Kline asked.
"Details about the shooting, anything about what our people might be facing over there," Hood told him. "Because we are in this now. Not just Op-Center but the United States. I don't think the president will do anything except condemn the action, but you never know."
"Paul, I don't have any other information right now," Kline told him. "I wish I did."
"Can we talk to the leader of the Spanish team?" Hood asked.
"I'll find out for you," Kline replied. "Your agent in Maun is Spanish, isn't she?"
"Yes."
"Depending on what region of the country she's from, that could work for her or against her," Kline said. "The soldiers are serious loyalists."
"Maria's not a separatist, if that's what you're asking," Hood said. "She was with Interpol for years."
"That's good," Kline said. "I'll call over there. They may want to talk to her directly. I'll let you know as soon as possible."
Hood believed that Kline would press the soldiers to cooperate. He would want all the help he could get.
"Before you go, Edgar, there is one more thing I would like to ask you," Hood said. "Does the Church believe that what's happening in Botswana is the will of God?"
"That's an odd question," Kline said.
"Not from a doctrinarian member of the Episcopal Church," Hood said. "We believe that God's hand is in everything."
"Catholics believe in free will," Kline said. "It is the privilege of an intelligent being to act or not act. There is no compulsion from outside. God did not will the kidnappers to do what they did nor the assassin to do what he did. The choices were their own."
"And God would not have intervened to stop either of those events," Hood said.
"He would not have," Kline said. "He did not save His own Son. Murder is the province of-"
Suddenly, Kline stopped.
"I have another call," the Vatican official said. His voice was noticeably different now. It was clipped, urgent.
"Is everything all right?" Hood asked.
"I don't know."
"Then we'll talk later," Hood said.
"No, I'll call you right back," Kline insisted urgently.
"Why?" Hood asked. "What happened?"
"The incoming call," Kline said. "It's news from Father Bradbury."
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Before phoning Darrell McCaskey, Mike Rodgers needed to put in a call to his friend Lieutenant Colonel Matt Mazer at the Pentagon. Rodgers wanted Mazer to call ahead to the airport in Gaborone. He wanted to make sure the plane carrying Aideen Marley and David Battat to Maun was given a thorough security check. The airfield as well. Maybe it was an attack on the bishop himself. Or maybe someone was shooting Americans. Rodgers wanted to make sure Aideen and Battat were protected.
Rodgers had just hung up with Mazer, when Darrell meCaskey swung into his office.
"Mind if I come in?" McCaskey asked.
"No. I'm glad you're here, Darrell," Rodgers said. "I was just going to give you a holler."
"What about?" McCaskey asked.
"I've heard from Maria," Rodgers replied.
"And?"
"She's doing all right," Rodgers said.
"Just 'all right'?"
"No, she's fine," Rodgers said. This was not coming out the way he wanted. Rodgers had been in combat situations that were easier than this.
McCaskey eyed the general warily. "I hear a 'but' there, Mike," McCaskey said.
"What you hear is frustration, Darrell, because I feel like a genie in a goddamn bottle," Rodgers said.
"Mike, what the hell are you talking about?" ^McCaskey asked.
"I'm talking about things happening on the outside that affect what we do," Rodgers said. "The bottle gets rubbed, we jump into service with all our resources, and we have very little control over any of it." He took a short, deep breath. "Yes, Maria is all right. But she was at the airport in Maun when a security guard, or someone posing as a security guard, killed the American bishop."