The man sat back and considered this. “The two women have already been taken care of. You have my word on that.”
“Your word means shit to me. I want real proof!”
“All right.”
“What about Viggie?” Michelle blurted out. “Is she okay?”
The man nodded curtly. “But the actions you’re talking about at Camp Peary; some of them will stop, Mr. King, indeed some of them already have. But I cannot promise that all of them will. Yet I can assure you that these activities are absolutely essential to preserving the security of this nation.”
“Isn’t that what you always say when you want to piss all over someone’s rights?”
“How is drug running essential to our nation’s security?” Michelle asked.
“We’re not selling it,” the man said impatiently. “We destroy it.”
“Yeah, and I didn’t inhale,” Sean barked.
“Three people were killed,” Michelle pointed out. “Murdered.”
“A very unfortunate fact. But the sacrifice of three lives to save thousands, if not millions?”
“Well, I guess that’s just great so long as you or someone you care about isn’t one of the people sacrificed,” Sean countered.
“Nevertheless, I cannot promise that all the activities you witnessed at Camp Peary will cease.”
“Then I guess we have a problem,” Sean said. “And if you’re thinking of maybe eliminating the two problems you see sitting in front of you, think about this. I had five copies made of that video. And they’re all in very safe places. Now unless Michelle and I die in our sleep at age ninety, one copy is going to be delivered to my aforementioned Pulitzer-hungry friend so he can write the story first, with other copies going to the New York Times, the Washington Post and the Times of London.”
“That only makes four. What about the fifth one?”
“That goes to the president. I bet he’d get a real kick out of it.”
“And yet as you pointed out we seem to have reached an impasse.”
Sean stood and paced. “Good lawyers always think of a compromise so here’s one for you. There’s a hidden treasure at Camp Peary.”
“Excuse me,” the man said, startled.
“Just shut up and listen. It’s hidden in the foundation wall of Lord Dunmore’s Porto Bello lodge. Gold, silver, jewels. The whole thing’s easily worth millions.”
“My God!” the man exclaimed.
“Yeah, before you get permanent dollar signs etched in your eyes that treasure is to be taken and sold for the highest possible price. Hell, if the government wants to buy it they can. I don’t really care. But the proceeds of those funds will be divided into three equal shares.”
The man pulled out a pen and a piece of paper. “All right. Presumably with one share going to each of you.”
“No!” Sean snapped. “One share goes to Viggie Turing. It won’t make up for her dad getting killed but it’s a start. The second share goes to Len Rivest’s two kids. They’re in college and could probably use the money. And the third share goes to the family of the medical examiner who was killed in that gas explosion. You got that?”
The man finished writing and nodded. “Got it.”
“Good. Now I’m going to check on the amounts paid over to them so don’t try to screw with me on the dollars. And I don’t care if it takes an act of Congress, but all the money goes to them tax-free.”
The man said, “That won’t be a problem.”
“I didn’t think so.”
“And we want to see Viggie, to make sure she’s all right,” Michelle added.
“That can be arranged.”
“Then arrange it,” Sean said. “Sooner rather than later.”
“Give us one week and it’ll all be done.”
“Make sure it is.”
“And you’ll say nothing about any of this?” the man asked.
“That’s right. I’m not looking to go to prison.”
“And who would believe us anyway?” Michelle added.
“And then we get the copies?” the man asked.
“And then you get the copies.”
“And we can trust you?”
“As much as I can trust you,” Sean said.
CHAPTER
92
A WEEK LATER SEAN AND MICHELLE met with Joan Dillinger in her office, along with another man who gave neither his name nor affiliation. He would only say that the ownership of Babbage Town was grateful for the work done by them and he had presented them directly with a check. The amount, Sean quickly saw, would resolve all their financial problems for the foreseeable future and fund some vacation time as well. They certainly needed it.
“Hope you found someone to take Champ’s and Alicia’s places. Too bad you lost such valuable people.”
“Oh, we have. But thanks to you our research won’t be preyed upon by electronic eyes anymore,” said the man.
As the fellow was leaving Sean couldn’t resist a parting shot. “So why spend all this time and money on creating something that will stop the world in its tracks?” he said.
The man had looked at him quizzically. “Who told you that’s what Babbage Town was doing?”
“A couple of real geniuses.”
The man raised an eyebrow. “Well, let’s just say that while what you described is certainly a possibility, it’s a tad more complicated than that.”
“And you’re just ready to roll the dice with the whole world at stake?” Sean exclaimed.
“Well, if we don’t, someone else will.”
After he left, Michelle added glumly, “I’m sick of geniuses.”
Joan smiled. “Good work, Sean.” She paused and glanced at Michelle. “And you too, Maxwell. From what I’ve heard I don’t think Sean would’ve made it without you.”
She knew nothing of their ordeal at the hands of Valerie Messaline or their arrangement with the government, and never would.
The two women extended to each other a grudging handshake.
When they returned to their apartment and were getting out of their car in the underground parking garage a limo pulled up in front of them. Ian Whitfield leaned out and said tersely, “Get in.”
They sat across from Whitfield, who said, “Sorry it took me so long to spring you.”
“And how exactly did you manage to turn the tables on the wicked witch?” Sean asked.
Surprisingly, Michelle answered. “You found out she was taking a cut from the drug shipments and selling them. You nailed her with that, right?”
Whitfield said, “How do you figure that, Maxwell?”
“When I was at the airport and they loaded the drugs on Champ’s plane, I noticed they kept some bales back. That was Valerie’s cut. The old guy from the government told us the CIA was destroying the drugs, but Hayes and Ventris said the area was being flooded with drugs.”
Whitfield said sternly, “Not even Valerie was connected enough to dig herself out of that one.”
Sean snapped his fingers. “That explains her going to that bar and pretending to get hit on. She was really moving her drug shipments.”
Whitfield nodded. “I finally got one of her team to turn on her. I used his information to crack her plan open, spring you two and nail her.”
“But why take the risk of Champ flying the drugs out? Why not just destroy them at Camp Peary?” Michelle asked.
“We don’t have the facilities to do it there. But when Michelle caught Champ in the act, we didn’t have time for anything else.”
Sean said, “Okay, what happened to old Val and her homicidal sidekick, Alicia?”
In answer Whitfield held up a copy of the Washington Post. On page A-6 was a brief story about the unfortunate deaths of two State Department employees in a car accident near Beijing. There were two grainy photos of the victims.
Sean looked at Michelle and then back at Whitfield. “Damn, I didn’t mean for them to be killed.”
“And what exactly did you expect wo
uld happen to them? That we’d try them in a court of law where their stories would come out? Where highly sensitive programs they were involved in might possibly be revealed to the public?” He looked at the photo of Alicia. “I was riding in the Humvee with her in Iraq when we hit the IED. I was the one who pulled her out. That’s how my leg got banged up. She used to be a good agent. Something just went wrong somewhere.”
“What about the treasure?” Sean said.
Whitfield pulled out some documents and handed them to Sean.
“The full proceeds were split into thirds, tax-free, as you requested. A nice gesture,” he added. “Most people wouldn’t have been so magnanimous.”
“And Viggie?” Michelle said.
“That’s where we’re headed right now. And she’s absolutely fine. It was fortunate Valerie was so busy with you two she put her plans for Viggie on hold.”
Sean hunched forward. “Ian, you took our side against your own agency. Why aren’t you dead or under arrest?”
His features turned grim. “I was the technical head of Camp Peary, but Valerie really ran the place. She’s done impressive work and her rise at the Agency has been amazingly swift. I didn’t know that was the deal when I took the job, but I had to live with it if I wanted to continue my career.
“Very quickly I saw it was a mistake because she started doing things that were way over the line. She co-opted several of the paramilitary squads based at the camp. All I could do was wait for an opening, though it didn’t look like one would ever come along.” Whitfield glanced at Sean. “I know Valerie made a hard rush at you to get you in the sack.”
“I didn’t have much trouble resisting,” Sean said almost truthfully.
“Good. Because you wouldn’t have walked out alive. That’s why I showed up on the beach. I knew she was concerned about how much you were finding out. I followed her and pretended to be the cuckolded husband. She was pissed at me for letting you get away.”
Sean looked stunned. “Thanks for saving my life. Again.”
“It’s my job to protect Americans, even from my own agency.”
“I’m surprised Valerie just didn’t have us killed right away.”
“I think she wanted to pay you back, for messing up her plans. And she also needed to find out how much you knew.”
“So who killed Len Rivest?” Sean asked.
“The only thing I can tell you is that Alicia’s interest in Rivest wasn’t romantic.”
Sean said, “And her and Champ being at Babbage Town was no coincidence?”
“Champ and Alicia were recruited long ago by the CIA. They were posted at Babbage Town when it first started. By the way, they were the real deal in the science world.”
“And they were at Babbage Town to steal whatever technology they came up with on quantum computers?” Michelle said.
“Let’s just say they were very interested observers. But what they were really working on at Babbage Town was a counter to the quantum computer.”
“A counter?” Michelle said.
“It’s a given that a commercially viable quantum computer will be a reality one day. The folks that owned Babbage Town were attempting to build a quantum computer so they could, in turn, construct an effective counter-device to it.”
“So the owners of Babbage Town were the very ones who would be hurt by quantum computers?” Sean said.
“Like banks and multinational companies?” Michelle added. “Really deep pockets.”
Whitfield nodded. “They had to do it on the Q.T. If the public found out, there would’ve been a panic. But the CIA wasn’t going to stand by and let something like that take place right under its nose. I can’t say we were interested in a counter-device though. We are spies, after all.”
“So how close are they to stopping the world in its tracks?”
Whitfield shrugged. “If I were you I’d start paying in cash and stocking up on paper and pen for your correspondence.”
“But was it a coincidence that Babbage Town was located right across from Camp Peary?” Sean asked.
Whitfield shook his head. “CIA owns the estate through a shell company. They bought it because it was right across from Camp Peary. Champ convinced the people behind Babbage Town to lease the place.”
Michelle added, “And Champ was a pilot who could fly the drugs out for you.”
“Be clear on this point: Champ is a good agent. He was doing what he was ordered to do. That’s all. He wasn’t working with Valerie or Alicia.” He glanced at Michelle. “He told me to tell you that he was sorry how things turned out.”
“Sorry! The bastard shot me in the arm!”
“If he wanted to kill you, you’d be dead.”
“Viggie was in his plane. Was he going to kill her?”
“No. We were getting the girl away from Valerie. You just got in the way.”
“Oh,” Michelle said, looking chagrined.
“Champ also told me to tell you that you have a lot to live for. And to give up trying to fly planes. I’m not sure what he meant by that.”
Michelle looked down at her hands. “So Champ is okay?” she said.
“Yes. And like me, he’s been reassigned.”
“Why was Viggie taken?” Michelle asked.
Whitfield said, “There was also code in the song’s notes that Alicia managed to break using the computers at Babbage Town. It was actually based on the World War II–era Enigma code.”
Sean said, “I knew it! She used my clue about the Enigma code to break it and then lied to us about it. And Viggie was also a code, a living, breathing one.”
“And the song title was the big clue: ‘Shenandoah,’ ” Michelle added.
“That’s right,” Sean agreed.
“What did the decoded song say?” Michelle asked.
“It described some of the things Monk Turing saw at Camp Peary. It was enough to make Valerie order Alicia to take Viggie.”
“Alicia kidnapped her?” Michelle exclaimed.
He nodded. “I know it probably doesn’t mean much after all she did, but Alicia helped me and Champ get Viggie onto that plane. I believe she really did care about the girl because it was a big risk, her doing it.”
“It might mean a little bit,” Sean admitted.
“Ian, how can you continue to work for a place that’s dealing in drugs!” Michelle exclaimed.
Whitfield shrugged. “You need poppy seeds to make opium and you need opium to make heroin. And right now in Afghanistan, the poppy crop is the only thing keeping the economy going. And if we don’t buy it terrorists will and use the enormous profits from dealing the drugs to attack us. Lesser of two evils; sometimes it’s the only choice we have.”
“It’s still wrong,” Michelle persisted. “And what Valerie did was criminal.”
“Valerie was a rogue clear and simple. As crazy as it sounds I believe she was going to kill you both after the torture was done, and she probably believed she’d get away with it. The role of the CIA she had in mind is not the same one I have, and never will be so long as I have anything to say about it.”
“Ian, you have to tell us one thing: How did Monk Turing get across the river?” Sean asked.
Whitfield hesitated. “I guess I owe you that. It was an underwater propulsion device. We found it.”
Sean looked at Michelle. He said, “No, that was—”
Whitfield cut in: “We found two of them, actually. One on the night all hell broke loose.” He eyed them both. “Know anything about that?”
Sean smiled. “Great minds do think alike.”
The limo slowed and then stopped.
“We’re here,” Whitfield said, opening the door. “Take your time, I’ll wait outside.”