Lila frowned. Why was this FBI agent asking about her Dad? The government had caused him more than enough trouble in the past. Why didn't they just leave him alone?
"I presume you know he's been living in Mexico," she said. "He came by to see us last Wednesday. What business is it of the FBI?"
"Did he say where he was going or when he would be back?"
Lila frowned. She didn't like it that he hadn't answered her question, but she saw no reason not to answer his. "He had to go somewhere to interview for a new job. I'm not sure where. Mom said he would be back by tomorrow. Now will you tell me why you're so interested in my Dad's whereabouts?"
Agent Nivens looked at her curiously. "You really don't know, do you?"
"Know what?"
"That Colonel Rodman is wanted by the Mexican police?"
"Wanted? Why on earth would they…?" Her voice trailed off.
"He's charged with the murder of a woman in Guadalajara. If you hear any more from him, I would—"
"Liar!" she raged. "My Dad wouldn't hurt anybody. If the Mexicans think he did, they're crazy. Please get out of here."
She stepped back and slammed the door in his face.
Then, as the enormity of what he had said began to sink in, she fell across the sofa sobbing.
67
Adam Stern had driven back to his hotel the night before in a car from Advanced Security Systems. After breakfast, he drove to Alexandria to deliver the photograph of Burke Hill to the gun shop. Then he detoured by Falls Church, where he located the Hill home and cruised past it slowly. Across the street and one house down sat a telephone company truck, its occupant working away on a pole, a head set covering one ear. No doubt one of those "friends in the looking business," he thought.
He drove back across the Fourteenth Street bridge and turned east toward Haskell Feldhaus' operation. He wandered randomly through the nearby streets, alert for any sign that Burke Hill might have returned for a closer look at Advanced Security Systems. Finding no evidence of Hill anywhere in the vicinity, he turned up the street beside the storage yard and saw the blue minivan parked behind the shop. Evidently Romashchuk and his crew were inside working on the dump truck.
Back at his hotel room, Stern turned on the television, curious to know if there was any news from Belarus. He picked up the remote and flipped through the channels until he found CNN's Headline News. A short piece on preparations around the country for Independence Day celebrations sparked no interest, but this was followed by a correspondent in Minsk speculating on what would come out of the upcoming CIS summit gathering. Stern probably would have paid no attention to the following forty-second sound bite if it had not come on the heels of the CIS story. But as he listened to the attractive lady anchor in Atlanta and watched the striking pictures on the screen, it quickly became clear that this was news with a direct impact. The camera showed a battered piece of steel guard rail, then slowly zoomed out to reveal a perilous roadside drop-off that overlooked a deep, sweeping valley. As the newswoman described what had taken place, the picture switched to a shot from a helicopter. Wreckage of a truck lay smashed in the dense forest below. Although only yards from a nearby road, it had not been spotted earlier because of the trees.
"Tennessee State Troopers initially thought the truck had accidentally gone off Interstate Forty during a heavy thunderstorm Saturday afternoon," she reported in an ominous tone. "But when weapons and bullet holes were found, the FBI was called in. The victims were identified as members of the so-called 'Vietnamese mafia' from Chicago. Although no drugs were found in the wreckage, an FBI spokesman said the accident probably resulted from narcotics warfare between rival factions."
Stern immediately recalled Major Romashchuk mentioning the storm they had encountered in the area Saturday afternoon. It occurred at the time the people sent by Feldhaus' contact should have been closing in on Rodman and Shumakov. The TV report said the wreck victims were from the Vietnamese mafia in Chicago. It had to be the same people. But shots? Who had fired the shots?
As he thought of Burke Hill renting the black pickup truck in Knoxville that same evening, it occurred to him that Hill must have followed Romashchuk on to Washington. But the only way he could have picked up the Major's trail was through Colonel Warren Rodman and Investigator Yuri Shumakov. Apparently they had not been eliminated. Their pursuers had died instead. He called Haskell Feldhaus to give him the bad news. He also called one of the Foreign Affairs Roundtable's members with a vested interest in Warren Rodman.
The large two-story, four-bedroom colonial style house stood on the edge of Falls Church, its lower floor mostly hidden from view by a high brick wall. A real estate developer had built it for himself during a booming period for the home building business. Caught in a credit crunch later, he had declared bankruptcy. Drs. Chloe and Walter Brackin had secretly admired the house ever since moving to the area. They didn't need a four-bedroom house, but it became available at a bargain price, and they could afford it. So they bought it.
Now some of that extra space was getting put to use as Burke, Roddy and Yuri set up headquarters there. Chloe and Walt had been at the Hill home the previous evening when Burke and Yuri returned from the encounter with Adam Stern. The Brackins had been listening to Colonel Rodman's helicopter tales, which he had been encouraged to relate after learning that Walt Brackin had served as a doctor in an Army Special Forces medical unit.
Burke had elected to tell his friends the bizarre story of events over the past week, withholding only the part about the nerve gas. He didn't feel it fair to saddle them with that gruesome knowledge. He asked their help on two counts. One involved sheltering the trio of "wanted" men. It would no longer be safe to remain at the Hill home. Knowing Walt's penchant for shooting everything in sight with his top-of-the-line camcorder, Burke also outlined a movie project they could undertake for him. Chloe and Walt had readily agreed to both requests.
The fugitives spent most of the morning attempting to agree on the best approach to locating and neutralizing Nikolai Romashchuk and his terrorist team. Yuri, imbued with the Russian penchant for intrigue, suggested looking for an employee of Advanced Security who might be enlisted to obtain inside information. Burke pointed out the holiday would likely make that difficult. Roddy preferred aerial surveillance. Since that option was not available, he recommended surreptitious surveillance from the ground. Accustomed to having the services of professional intelligence specialists as close as the telephone, Burke felt frustrated. But knowing their basic need was for information, he agreed to Roddy's call for a surveillance operation. Before they could get started, Lori called from her office.
"I have two things," she said. "One is bad; the other doesn't sound too good."
"Give me the bad news first," Burke said.
"The FBI came looking for Colonel Rodman this morning."
"Where?"
She told him that Karen Rodman had called after hearing from Lila about the young agent's appearance on her doorstep. Karen had finally managed to mollify her daughter after explaining why they had not told her earlier about Roddy's troubles in Mexico.
"Needless to say, they'll be looking for him tomorrow for sure," Lori added.
"Sooner, I'd venture. They probably already have the phone tapped."
"She anticipated that. She gave me the phone number for the dress shop and said he could call her there. Do you think our phone is safe?"
"I wouldn't count on it. Stern probably recognized me last night. He could have passed the word on to Pickens or McNaughton."