The floor known as B3 was also a computer floor, but half of it was broken down into small glass cubicles, inside which was a computer terminal, a printer, and a chair. This floor required not only a search for metal, but also a general search of the body by touch. The glass cubicles were called lock boxes, because they remained locked until an operative needed to use them, and then the operative was locked inside the box for the duration of their visit. The glass was clear, so the monitors of the room could see the operative, but the computer screens were hooded, so only the operative could see the information being displayed. Entry to these cubicles, or lock boxes, was cleared through the monitor at the desk, who would authorize an agent to use a cubicle for information retrieval. After clearance had been given, the operative was escorted to the assigned cubicle, wanded once more, and then allowed to enter. The door was locked behind them.
The fourth floor underground was the most sensitive and required not only clearance of the director, but a full body search, after which the individual had to go through a decontamination procedure, since the floor designated B4 was a clean room. Teren had never been to the fourth floor.
It was just after one o’clock when she presented herself at the cubicle control desk. She was pleased to find that Carl had come through, and she was escorted to her assigned box. The guard escorting her recited the rules.
“There will be no communication between you and anyone outside the room. You will not reach into your pockets at anytime, not even for so much as a breath mint. When you have finished you may ring the buzzer, and I will escort you back to the desk. Once you leave the cubicle you must get a re-authorization to re-enter, so be certain you’re finished before you ring. You know, of course, that anything you print out will be checked by the control desk. If they think it’s of a sensitive nature, it won’t leave the floor.”
Teren nodded her understanding, and entered the room. She waited until she heard the lock behind her engage before she sat at the desk.
Carl, it seemed, had come through again. Using her personal access code, she retreived the file of information that he had sent. It was a long and detailed file of the Swiss account she had asked about.
She had been wrong. The account was new, opened only three years ago, by Martin Richmond and John Treville. The initial deposit had been over five and a half million dollars. There was close to three million in the account now. The transaction list for the last six months included several large transactions to those accounts belonging to George Mather in the name of Perry Watson. There was also a transfer to an account for Derek White. Other payments were made to two different accounts in China, as well as payments to a Lithuanian bank. Deposits into the account came from Germany, and Switzerland. It seemed Richmond and Treville were doing business in several different countries.
The accounts in China belonged to two different companies that were known to front for the Chinese Triads, the gangs that were responsible for a large amount of the opium trade in the east. The ownership of one of these accounts had been passed on after the death of the principle signer, six months ago. Carl noted that the death occurred in a small town on the Lithuanian border. Teren realized it was the drug leader she and Perry had taken out.
Switching over from message retrieval to message inquiry, Teren brought up the banking system for Lithuania. The security for this system was extremely weak, and it took her only a moment to work her way through the layers and into their file system. She called up the number from Carl’s message and found that the account in question belonged to Anatol Radinkov. Teren remembered him well from their meeting six months ago.
The account in Germany was a little harder to work her way into. She finally received access and found the name Jurgen von Odbert. She saved the information to her private account, and left the inquiry system.
At the end of information he’d sent, Carl had added a notation. He told her the money to originally open Treville and Richmond’s account had been transferred from another Swiss bank. Unfortunately, due to the date it was opened, the information on the original owner was not computerized. He could get no further information on it. If she wanted to know more, however, there was a person in the employ of the bank’s records department that owed him a favor. But she’d have to go see him in person.
Teren hit the print button, and leaned back to wait. She thought about Carl’s last statement. A trip to Switzerland. Wonderful.
She wondered if Alex and David would want to go with her.
*******************************************************
Alex and David were going back to their hotel. Their day had been frustrating, and all Alex wanted was dinner, a shower, and a bed.
She and Rick had spent a couple of hours with Janet Brogan, and waited with her for her husband to answer the phone. He never did. Janet had been pale, but had said that he must not have taken his phone with him. Alex gave her a weak smile and nodded.
She didn’t want to think about the other possibility.
David had joined Ken in calling all the morgues and hospitals. No one answering Brogan’s description had shown up in any of them. They also checked the jails, wondering if he’d been booked under a different name. They had no luck there, and no luck with any contacts on the streets. No one had seen Brogan.
The search of the hotels near the strip proved a little better. Someone matching his photo had been in one, but had checked out very early. He’d paid cash, and had stayed only until just after sunrise. Then he left in his car. The witness said the car had plates, but he couldn’t see the numbers.
There was nothing else, except to make the circuit again. The job had been passed on to two junior agents, and Dave joined Alex at the hotel, while Ken headed to the forensics lab to see if he could help trace the bomb components.
Rick Price had remained with Janet Brogan and her family. Every so often they would try again to call Kyle Brogan. Alex was glad Janet wasn’t giving up hope, but had very little herself.
Dinner was in the hotel restaurant, and was very quiet. Neither of them really wanted to talk, being tired and frustrated and short-tempered. David was trying not to grouse about spending more time away from his wife and daughter. He hoped that Cliff had been serious about that vacation time, or he just might have to go AWOL to save his marriage. When he’d called Miri to tell her that he was heading to Philadelphia instead of going home, she’d been very silent and hadn’t said much. He asked her if she’d still be at the airport, and she said he should call her when he arrived — she didn’t want to be left waiting for a flight that he wasn’t on.
Alex was wondering where Teren was, and what she was doing. She hoped the CIA agent had gotten what she needed and was on her way. She had to admit she missed the darker woman’s smile and the way the blue in her eyes became more intense when she was concentrating on something. Besides, she thought, and Alex had to smile at this, even though she could see the danger in Teren, a big part of her felt safer when the assassin was around.
“Well, that’s it, I’m done. I don’t think I can keep my eyes open much longer. I’m turning in, Alex. You staying here?”
“Nope, I’m right behind you. You want to sign for the check, and I’ll get breakfast?”
“Oh, yeah, take the cheaper meal.”
“Da-vid.”
“Oh, yeah, I forgot. The way you eat, every meal is expensive.”
Alex gave him a light punch on the arm, then took the check from him.
“Just for that, I’ll sign, and you can get breakfast.”
“Great. I don’t think I’m awake enough to remember my name, much less sign it.”