"I haven't had the opportunity to work with you in a long time," Brittany said when she was seated across the desk from him. "How are your wife and the twins? What are they now, about two?"
"I'd call it the precocious two's. As for Lori, she's doing fine. Oh, I have some news for you, from Korea."
"Did you hear from Jerry?"
"He called this morning. Ji-young is pregnant."
"Marvelous! Those are two of the nicest people I've ever run into."
Burke leaned forward on his desk, signaling the preliminaries were over. He wasn't very big on small talk. "I've got something I need help with, Brittany," he said, appearing to put it on a personal as well as a professional level. "I need some information pretty quickly, and I need the search kept as quiet as possible."
"I take it that means strictly between you and me?"
That was what he liked about Brittany. You didn't have to draw her any pictures. "Right. If anybody shows an interest in what you're doing, I want to know."
"I don't see any problem."
"Good. I'm concerned about a guy named Adam Stern."
After Brittany had left, Burke placed a call to his son, Cliff Walters. He had been given his mother's name while only a tot, after she and his father were divorced and Burke had disappeared into the limbo of an FBI undercover operation. Cliff was now a special agent in the Bureau's Philadephia Field Office. He and Burke had become reacquainted during Operation Hangover two years ago. Cliff was not in but returned the call along the middle of the afternoon.
"You don't usually call me at work," Cliff said. "Anything wrong?"
"No, I just needed a little unofficial official help."
"That sounds like trouble." He had never forgotten the shocking and dramatic encounter with his father in San Francisco, while he was investigating a Korean-American suspect and Burke was involved in the secret Korean operation for the White House. Cliff had been temporarily sidelined on orders of the President's National Security Adviser.
"Hey, would I cause my son trouble?" Burke protested with a chuckle.
"What do you need, Dad?"
"To know what the Bureau's files say about a guy named Adam Stern. He's an investigator of sorts with the Foreign Affairs Roundtable in New York. I could ask one of my old buddies here to check the computer on him, but I don't want to have to answer any questions."
"I'm not familiar with the Foreign Affairs Roundtable. Is it a non-profit organization?"
"Right."
"Good. That'll give me an excuse. I'm working a case involving some non-profits. I'll call you back."
Burke told Evelyn he had a luncheon appointment and left. Outside he hailed a taxi and instructed the driver to take him to National Airport. He found Roddy Rodman and Yuri Shumakov waiting with their bags near a restaurant off the main concourse. After they were seated and had ordered sandwiches, Burke took two envelopes from his attache case and handed one to each. "Here's your new identification papers."
Rodman was now known as "Phillip Fortune." Shumakov was "Viktor Burdin."
"Your plane tickets to San Antonio are also in there," he said. Lori had prepared them at home earlier, where she had an office complete with on-line computer and a printer that could imprint tickets. He also handed Roddy a Master Card. "This was issued to my wife's company, Clipper Cruise & Travel. You'll need it to pick up the rental car she's reserved for you. And you can use it along the way for gas and accommodations."
"Your wife is doing all of this for us?" Yuri asked in disbelief.
Burke smiled. "Not entirely for you. As I told Roddy last night, I have a vested interest in this deal. I've been asked to become a member of the Foreign Affairs Roundtable. I want to know just what the hell is going on here before I do anything. Of course, from the looks of it, somewhere along the way we'll undoubtedly have to notify the police or the FBI."
He would deal with that when the time came. Romashchuk had not likely gone to all this trouble just to intimidate someone. But as long as he posed no immediate threat, Burke would be content to monitor his activities and hope he would somehow reveal his intentions. It was a calculated risk, but to make a move too quickly could have disastrous results for Roddy and Yuri. Plus it could spoil his chances of tracking down the link between Romashchuk and the Roundtable.
The waitress brought their sandwiches as they were looking over the new documents. Burke spread a thick layer of mustard on his corned beef and began to outline his plan. Chief Investigator Shumakov was experienced at surveillance. He and Roddy were to pick up the rental car, then check with the Krueger Produce Company to find out where the trailer filled with melons would be unloaded. They would stake out the area and wait for Romashchuk and his crew of guerrillas to arrive and retrieve their crates of weapons. After that, they would follow the group and report back to Burke on where it was headed.
Finally he took a small portable cellular telephone with a spare battery and charger from his attache case. He handed it to Roddy. "You can use this in the big cities and in a lot of the outlying areas. You have my numbers both at home and at the office. Better check with me whenever you get the chance. If anybody's looking for you, I'll let you know. But you shouldn't have any problems as long as you use those new identities."
Shortly after returning to the office, Burke received a call from his son in Philadelphia.
"Looks like you've picked an untouchable," Cliff said.
"That's not a term we used in my day."
"Well, it fits this guy. When I tried to open Mr. Stern's file, I got a message saying, 'For information on this subject, contact the Senior Undersecretary of State.' That means ordinary mortals, keep your cotton pickin' hands off."
"The Senior Undersecretary. That's the number two man at State. Would a message like that indicate CIA?"
"Possibly. Or some State Department intelligence organization."
"Okay. Thanks, Cliff. Say, do you have any plans for the Fourth?"
"With my seniority," he said glumly, "I'll probably be working."
Burke hung up the phone and considered that cryptic message in the FBI computer. If Stern did not still have some high connections, that message would have been erased several years ago when he departed the CIA for the private sector. It was a message with highly disturbing overtones. It meant some top people in the FBI and the State Department did not want anyone nosing into Mr. Stern's affairs. He did, indeed, appear to be an untouchable.
56
Jetting about the country was normally a relaxing experience for Nate Highsmith. It was one of the perks of wealth and power that he particularly enjoyed. There was a pull-down table where he could work. He could catch up on his reading or listen to music or eavesdrop on the air traffic control frequencies. But the flight back from New York that afternoon proved anything but soothing. Nate spent most of the time mulling over what to do about Burke Hill.
The difficult part was that he had come to depend on Burke as a steady, calm hand in a crisis, an innovative intelligence pro, a knowledgeable financial officer and a caring, faithful friend. Why had he lied about the twins? He could have diverted the airplane on his own initiative without saying a word. So why did he feel the necessity of justifying his action? And what did he intend to do about this discovery of some "shady" business in which he thought the Roundtable was involved?