“He wouldn’t. Not the file of a former operative.” Kaufman, however, sounded less convinced than his words implied.
Mark explained all that had happened since he’d taken Muhammad from the Saudis, concluding, “I don’t know what deal Rosten tried to cut with the Shias, but whatever it was, it didn’t work. So now he’s going to throw the Shias under the bus and back the royals. But for that to happen, he needs for me to deliver the kid. He was worried I wouldn’t, so he shared my personnel file with the Saudis so they could put the squeeze on me.”
“I’m sorry about your brother, but maybe you should just deliver the kid. Did that ever occur to you?”
“My personnel file is chock full of intel from my time with Central Eurasia. Your division. This isn’t just a shot fired at me, it’s a shot fired at the whole division. If Rosten did this, you need to sound the alarm. Or, if it turns out management approved this, at least have the decency to tell me so I know what I’m dealing with.”
“Mark—” Kaufman sighed.
It was a weary, maybe even frustrated sigh, but Mark was guessing that in the end Kaufman would help. His old boss was like that — always complaining, never eager — but when it came to defending Central Eurasia’s turf, he was a seasoned infighter who looked out for his own.
“This isn’t just about me, Ted. Something big is going on down here. I don’t know what it is, but — am I telling you something you already know? Do you already know what the hell is going on here in Bahrain?”
“Unfortunately, no. All I know is that yesterday the deputy director personally ordered me to order you to show up at the embassy in Bishkek, and that once you got there you were supposed to do whatever Rosten told you to. Beyond that I’m in the dark.”
“You know as well as I do that there should be a record of whoever accessed my file. There’s only a handful of people with that clearance.”
“I’ll pull your file and find out who else has accessed it. But if it turns out it’s Rosten, or someone even higher up, things are going to get sticky.”
Mark called Larry Bowlan. “So, how’d you like a job?”
A pause, then, “Have you been drinking, Sava?”
“I mean it.”
“No, ‘Hello Larry, how’ve you been since the last time we talked’? No, ‘Sorry for hanging up on you but thanks for hanging around the office for an extra hour, after everyone else has gone home’? Just insults?”
“I’m not insulting you.”
“I have a job.”
“I mean a real job. Hundred and fifty thousand a year base salary for intel work, with an opportunity for bonuses depending on risk factors.”
“You pulling my leg?”
“No, Larry. This is the real deal. A real offer. You’d be working for me. I’ve been doing some private contract work—”
“I know what you’ve been doing. You’ve been working for that clown Bruce Holtz. Honestly, I thought a guy like Holtz was a little beneath—”
“I’m going out on my own.”
“As of when?”
“As of now.”
“You’re not inspiring confidence.”
“I can guarantee your salary for a year.”
Bowlan didn’t answer right away. “I’d be more comfortable with a year and a half.”
“You’re seventy-one years old, Larry. And you haven’t exactly led what I’d call a healthy life. You could be dead in six months. Take a chance.”
“I quit smoking. Doing the patches.”
“Good for you.”
“Year and a half.”
“Fine.” Mark knew Bowlan would have taken a year contract — would have taken six months for that matter — but he didn’t want to haggle too much with his old boss. He needed Bowlan motivated.
“And I want a contract.”
“I’ll have one drawn up within the week.”
“Really?” Bowlan sounded surprised, in the way someone who’s just been told they’ve won the lottery might sound surprised.
“Yeah.”
“When do I start?”
“Well, see, that’s the thing.”
“Here it comes, the catch.”
“You start now. That’s why I called.”
“I thought the contract wouldn’t be ready for a week?”
“Maybe sooner. Hell, I’ll fill out a contract on a napkin and fax it to you now if you want. But I’m juggling a few things at the moment, and I can’t be dealing with lawyers. If you really want the job, you’re going to have to work on faith for a few days.”
“When’s my first paycheck?”
“Whenever I get around to paying you,” Mark snapped. Then, thinking better of it, he added, “Whenever, Larry. Tomorrow if you need it.”
Bowlan took a moment to answer, but Mark was certain it was just for show. He’d known Bowlan would be an easy recruit, and not just because of the money. Bowlan wanted to be back in the game.
“OK. You got yourself a deal, Sava. But I would advise you not to try to take advantage of the elderly. I may be a few years past my prime, but I’m a vindictive son of a bitch and I don’t have a lot to lose, so keep that in mind.”
“Welcome aboard, Larry. You’re officially the first employee of Global Intelligence Solutions.”
Mark had signed a non-compete agreement with Holtz, but he figured that wasn’t going to be an issue for much longer. The Central Eurasia Division would almost certainly put out a burn notice — whether formally or informally — on Holtz. CAIN’s business in Central Asia was about to dry up, at least as long as Holtz was running the show.
“Did you just make that name up?”
“This is the deal…”
Mark brought Larry up to date, including about what had happened to his brother.
Instead of expressing sympathy or alarm, Bowlan said, “So you’re telling me this isn’t a private intelligence op that you’re undertaking on behalf of a paying client. This is just a bail-out-you-and-your-brother op.”
“The first thing I need you to do is track down a few Saudi princes for me. I’m sure you get a steady stream of them coming into Dubai.”
“We do…” Bowlan sounded wary.
Laws in Saudi Arabia allowing polygamy, combined with astounding wealth, meant that there were thousands of members of the Saudi royal family. Many had business interests in places like Dubai and Bahrain, destinations that were popular not only for their pro-business tax and regulatory policies, but also because of the availability of alcohol and prostitutes — two attractions that were in short supply in Saudi Arabia.
“I need you to find me a few that have recently left Dubai for Bahrain. Is that something you can handle?”
“I can tap into the Emirates database, but when I do, I’ll leave a trail. It’ll be questioned, and if I don’t have good answers, which I won’t, I could be—”
“Fired, I know. That’s not relevant now.”
“And prosecuted. The same way whoever broke your cover can be prosecuted.”
“That’s the job, Larry. Take it or leave it. I didn’t promise a risk-free working environment.”
“Understood. But keep in mind, my data tap might be questioned in two days or two minutes. Point is, if you were counting on my having access to the consulate resources in the days and weeks to come, don’t.”
Mark continued as if Bowlan hadn’t spoken, “At the same time, I need you to search arrival records for a woman named Kalila Safi. She would have flown in from Bahrain around three days ago. Fifty-six years old. Find out everything you can about her. How’s your Arabic?”
“I’m still as sharp as ever.”
Mark recalled that Bowlan, thanks to a few courses at Yale fifty years earlier, was able to speak a formal form of Arabic. It was a variation of the language that virtually no one spoke in real life, except maybe when giving a dry academic dissertation, but Larry was at least able to make himself understood — albeit barely.