"Yeah." Lamont looked a little depressed. Nick figured it was time to cheer him up.
"What would you say if I told you there's another option? Not so tame?"
"Not so tame, like whatever you were doing in Jerusalem?"
"Yes."
"Tell me all about it, amigo."
During the next hour they filled him in on Harker and the Project. Nick kept the Irish coming. After the fourth one something let go. He began to relax for the first time since he'd left for Israel.
"What do you think, Shadow? You want to meet Harker?"
"You talked with her?"
"She pulled your jacket and cleared you earlier today. It's up to you. Travel, pay, exotic places, meet new people — what more could you ask?"
He smiled. "Damn." He held his hands out and spoke in a whispery Marlon Brando voice. "Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in."
"Your Brando sucks, and besides it was Pacino said that."
Cameron shrugged. "Hey. As long as we don't leave the gun. When do I meet her?"
"Tomorrow. We'll pick you up."
They clinked glasses.
The team was getting stronger.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Morning light filtered through the windows of the safe house. Lamont looked sharp in a light blue suit and lavender tie. Ronnie had on his usual Hawaiian riot. Nick wore a throbbing hangover, a black turtleneck and a gray jacket. The aspirin hadn't kicked in. His .45 felt like it weighed fifty pounds. Something kept squeezing his back. Selena looked fresh and ready to go.
Harker gave Lamont the pitch, an ID, a Glock and had him sign his life away. He cracked the slide, checked the magazine and clipped the holstered pistol onto his belt with the ease of practice. She briefed him on Dysart and the week's events. She told him about the sunken submarine.
"Yeah, Nick told me about it."
"If we found that sub, could you dive on it?"
"Thirty-five fathoms? That's two hundred and ten feet down. Sure. Straightforward, unless there are bad currents and poor visibility."
"That deep you should have a partner, but you're going to have to go it alone."
"He doesn't have to go alone." It was Selena. "I've got enough experience. I've been deep before."
Something made Nick say, "Is there anything you can't do?" His headache stabbed him.
There was a brief silence. Selena's face closed down. Lamont's expression was unreadable.
Harker's pen stopped moving. "You're an experienced diver, Selena?"
"I've done over a hundred recreational dives and two dozen deep, technical dives."
She looked at Lamont. "I know it's not the same as what you've done. But you need someone with you, in case there's trouble."
"We're talking seventy meters," Lamont said. "That's not recreational diving. Something goes wrong, it's pretty far to the surface."
"If something goes wrong and you're by yourself, you won't make the surface."
Strong words. Lamont raised his eyebrows. She went on. "We're not just talking about diving an old wreck. We're talking about getting inside it, looking for something. We don't even know what it is we're looking for. That's dangerous. You need backup."
"I could maybe get some ex-Navy guys I know to help out."
"There's no time for that," Harker said. "Besides, they'd have to be vetted, cleared. It's not an option."
Lamont asked Selena, "You checked out with rebreathers?"
"I've been to three hundred and fifty feet with one."
Steph said, "What's a rebreather?"
"It's diving apparatus. It cycles breath and breathing gas within a closed circuit system. We used them all the time in the Seals." Lamont rubbed his palm on his leg. "The advantage is no bubbles going to the surface if you're in a combat situation. You don't need big tanks and you can stay down longer and deeper than with the open circuit stuff. With the right mix the decompression stops aren't as long."
The pen started up, then stopped. Harker made up her mind. "Selena's right. If you can find the sub, she goes down with you. Nick, you and Ronnie will back them up on the surface. I'll requisition a plane to take you to Mar del Plata. Take weapons. I'll clear you for entry, you shouldn't have trouble. We have an arrangement with the Argentine military and it's friendly at the moment. They have an air base near there."
Lamont said, "We'll need gear."
"Tell Ronnie what you need. Mar del Plata is a big fishing port, right on the Atlantic. It shouldn't be a problem to rent a boat down there. I'll arrange for accommodations and a vehicle. Selena, you speak Spanish, don't you?"
"Fluently."
Harker put her pen down. "Any other questions?"
"When do we leave?"
"Tomorrow."
"Hey, I always wanted to see Argentina," Lamont said.
CHAPTER FORTY
It was a warm October morning in the nation's capitol, the sky blue and cloudless. Senator Gordon Greenwood was in his office on the Hill, thinking about an upcoming meeting with a group of deep pocket constituents. His secretary interrupted his thoughts.
"Senator, Acting Director CIA is on line two."
"Thank you, Addie."
Greenwood chaired the Senate Intelligence Oversight Committee. He picked up his phone and activated the scrambler.
"Wendell, how are you?"
"Fine, Gordon. A beautiful day out there, isn't it? Have you got a minute?"
Senator Greenwood knew Wendell Lodge well. The two men often played together at the elite Bull Run Country Club, overlooking the Civil War battleground. From the club it was possible to see the spot where General Jackson had stood immovable as a stone wall, the air around him filled with minie balls and grape shot. At Bull Run the minie balls had been replaced by golf balls arcing toward the blue sky.
CIA was political. Hearings were coming up to move someone into the Director's slot and Wendell Lodge wanted the job. No one would get to the Director's office at Langley if the senator decided to oppose him. It didn't hurt Lodge's chances that he and Greenwood were Yale classmates and members of Skull and Bones.
All the same, a little shared information of the right sort went a long way. There were lots of ways to get information in Washington. It came down to who you knew. In the Capitol, power was the name of the game and information was the currency of power. You needed money, a lot of it, but information was the more valuable commodity.
Lodge said, "There's something that needs your attention as Chairman of the committee."
"Oh?"
"Are you briefed on the Project?"
Greenwood allowed a small laugh. There wasn't much he didn't know about the intelligence community. "You mean the President's attempt to circumvent your agency?"
"That's the one." Lodge considered his next words. "I know the Director of the unit, Elizabeth Harker. One of her people was in Jerusalem. You probably saw him on TV, shooting the man who went after Rice."
"Yes, I know about Harker."
"I've just learned she's sent her team to Argentina on some covert mission. She's acting under Rice's authority. I thought in your capacity as Chairman you might be interested in knowing about it. I'm getting a bit tired of her antics. She's stepped into my bailiwick before, and when she does she makes a lot of trouble."
"Where in Argentina, Wendell?"
"Their flight plan ends at an Argentine air base near Mar del Plata, on the Atlantic coast. They took diving gear, weapons and underwater communications equipment. I don't think they're down there for a vacation."
Greenwood sipped from a glass of water on his desk. "If Rice and Harker are in collusion about something and hiding it, a look by the Committee into what's going on might be in order."
"My thought exactly, Gordon. Right now Rice is riding the popularity generated by that bomb in Jerusalem, but that won't last. If public hearings turned up Presidential involvement with questionable covert operations, it wouldn't hurt your potential candidacy any. It might even help us get you nominated and into the Oval Office. There's strong sentiment you would make a good candidate. You know you can count on me."