Senate Cloakroom Cabal (35 page)

Driscoll said. “It had refueled and waited for the men to return. They went aboard, but after an hour, they came out and went to the hotel. The plane then took off.”

Ro asked, “But both men stayed; the reservation wasn't a ruse?”

“According to the hotel, they both had breakfast there the next morning,”

Driscoll answered.

Crawford asked, “Where did the plane go?”

Driscoll replied, “San Juan, according to their flight plan.”

“Governor, this is General Towers, good to see you so chipper.”

“Thank you, General. Harley's folks are taking good care of me.”

“Do you have that private jet's tail numbers?”

A look of disgust came over Rufus's face. “Dang. I'll get it for you.”

“How long did the two men stay on the island?” I asked.

Driscoll picked up on that. “They checked out the day of the attack. They didn't fly out. They may still be on C-1. We lost track of them.”

I knew what that meant. “Maybe they were waiting for their boat to come in.”

A look of excitement showed on Rufus's face. “The damn invaders' boat, right?”

“We believe the ‘mother ship' was a yacht—a party boat. Great cover,” Crawford said. “Chief, do you have anything on what you and I discussed?”

“I came up with three possibilities, Senator. One, a small yacht. A second craft, which left the next morning for Aruba, and was boarded there. It had a crew of three and two elderly couples.”

“What's happening with the yacht and the third boat?” I asked.

Rufus answered. “They're both still in the harbor and in El Presidente's hands, Laura.”

“How can he prevent them from leaving?”

“He's a resourceful guy. He quarantined the harbor, claiming there'd been report of a citrus virus. Each boat has been or will be boarded and thoroughly gone over. Arriving boats will be sent to a cove five miles south of here to anchor and wait, or move on.”

“What's he going to do after the search, send in the Marines?” I asked flippantly.

There was laughter all around, except from General Towers. “Major?”

“Whoa, I was only kidding, General.”

“This is being handled as a local government matter, sir,” Major DeMarco answered sharply.

“Good. Any ideas about what you all just heard?” Towers asked.

“The Carmayan government could ask for assistance,” CIA analyst Wright offered.

“I think that's best. It could then be handled by State,” Ro said.

“Maybe we let the party boat go and track it,” I said. “I'm sure we have the technical ability to do that, don't we?” I looked at the two civilians across from me.

“That could be arranged,” Wright replied.

“Sounds like a winner,” Rufus said. “Let me know when to tell El Presidente.”

81

O
ur Pentagon meeting wrapped up, and we prepared to leave when word reached General Towers that the yacht was American-owned . . . out of Charleston, South Carolina. I hoped that might be the one. As we were saying our goodbyes, Towers complimented the senators on how focused we all had been. He would report to the SECDEF and proceed accordingly, which means that the Defense Department would confer with the State Department on how to handle the yacht still sitting in Carmaya's harbor.

Ro, Michael, and I rode into DC with Crawford, the only one of us with a vehicle. As we neared the
Star
, I knew I needed to put Carmaya behind me and concentrate on the Senate. We'd been gone less than forty-eight hours, yet it seemed like a month.

“Do we know if Senator Pembroke has resigned the chairmanship?”

“Not that I've heard, Laura,” Gavin said.

“I expect the FBI is close to indicting some folks. I know Captain Walsh is anxious to wrap up Mort's case,” I said, partly to bring this subject back into everyone's focus.

“I'll be following up with Dad on Carmaya.”

Crawford added, “I'll keep up with the DOD.”

When they dropped me off, I was feeling a special kinship with my three partners and hoped it was mutual.

Everybody seemed to want a piece of me the moment I walked into the newsroom. I met with Grace Herman and talked with Claire Rowley. I met with Barton and Riley, and saw Lassiter for a minute. When I finally was able to sit at my desk, it was nearly 3:00, and I hadn't talked to Max. I called him.

“Well, how was Treasure Island?”

“This treasure was a pharmaceutical processing plant for Tutoxtamen.”

“How was the fishing?”

“Rufus McAllister will have to tell you all about that.”

Max grunted. “Don't bother, I couldn't tolerate the long ride down and back.”

“The attackers were foreign mercenaries, most likely eastern Europeans, according to CIA and Interpol. It's fairly certain they came from a yacht that is now being held in the Carmayan harbor by the Carmayan government.”

“War is getting classier all the time,” Max teased.

“What's happening here?”

“It's unglamorous, but steady. The PI is still in Miami, but has had no known contact with H. Don't have anything new on the Hill people.”

Horowitz would have layers of intermediaries between him and the PI. “Have you talked with the Mort girl?”

“The young lady is an innocent. Did you know she worked in H's law firm? A female lawyer there was her handler, who we're now observing.”

I hadn't known that. “When you talk to Reed, would you ask if he knows a Ted Schmitt, an FBI counterterrorism agent? He was at our morning meeting at the Pentagon. By the way, we'll be on
Scalawag
this weekend.”

“I'll call you.”

We said our goodbyes. My office phone rang. “Laura Wolfe.”

“It's Michael. How's your day going?”

“Too many meetings. Captain Walsh told me Tina is a person of interest, but on the low end. Did you know she worked in Horowitz's firm?”

“No. I called to tell you to put fresh batteries in your tape machine.”

“I always have an extra pair, why?”

“Senator Crawford just called us; Senator Pembroke is resigning his chairmanship at the end of the day tomorrow.” He let that hang.

“And . . .”

“Senator Pembroke wants to tell his story to you before the dam breaks.”

“Wow. When and where?”

“Senator Crawford's office tomorrow at 3:00.”

“Any strings?”

“None were mentioned.”

“I'll be there.” We signed off, and I sat for a moment reflecting on Crawford's comments about his earlier meeting with Pembroke. Then I gathered my notes and headed to Lassiter's office. Even though she was not technically my editor on the Senate story, she was very much involved in Mort's murder. But the truth be known, I wanted her reactions and advice to everything I'd been doing. In my heart, she was still my editor.

“How was the trip?” she asked, as I walked in. “Was it worth the time?”

“Very much.” I didn't start with that, though; I told her about Pembroke first.

“You're right in the middle again. Any embargoes?”

“None were mentioned. I'd like to run something by you.” I gave her my thoughts on the ramifications of what I saw as coming down in the Senate.

Without comment on my remarks, she said, “We better go see Barton and Riley.”

The two men were captivated and pleased at having the exclusive on Pembroke. Resigning a Senate chairmanship is news, but what was contained underneath that decision was very obviously the bigger story.

“Has he been approached by the authorities?” Barton asked.

“Not as of an hour ago when I talked to Captain Walsh.”

“Get his mea culpa,” Riley said. “Let's see what he says; maybe that'll give us a clue about how to proceed.”

Lassiter said, “Developing a headline story is one thing, acting on it is another. Pembroke hasn't been charged by MPD or the FBI. I think Laura should pass this by Captain Walsh.”

I smiled to myself. Lassiter knew how I worked, and Riley didn't.

Riley was scowling. “Could he be planning a vanishing act?”

“No,” I said. “From what little I know of him, I believe he'll stay and humble himself before his peers and family. I believe he wants to write his own obituary. Get his words out there before others do that for him.”

82

I
was at my desk finishing a light lunch when Max called. He told me Reed Davis had talked to the counterterrorism agent I'd met at the Pentagon. They believed the attack had to have been in the works for several weeks. That said to me that the pharmas had a mole inside Rogers Pharmaceuticals.

“They must have a deep mole inside Rogers to know those plans,” I said.

“Harley told us he had begun his alternative plan three years ago; at the time the pharmas wanted to broker a deal with him to reduce the cure to focus on a single form of cancer.

“Even though he faked cooperation by establishing a parallel program to produce a single cancer cure drug, he didn't trust the pharmas and had planned accordingly. I don't believe he thought his subterfuge would work for long, but it did buy him some time to set up his offshore processing plant.

“According to Rufus, the offshore plant's construction was a tightly held secret . . . yet the pharmas were ready weeks in advance of the drug's rejection to attack and destroy that processing plant.”

Max said, “Well, as you were speaking just now, Delia brought me a message from Reed that the Carmayan government, who had taken charge of the yacht, has now turned it over to our Marines. A destroyer, the
USS
Gregory
, will be escorting the yacht to Gitmo. Two civilian males on the yacht were transferred to the destroyer's brig.”

“What about the babes?”

“It seems their sunbathing was a distraction for the healthy American males, so they were restricted to below decks on the yacht, clothed.”

“Our Carmayan contingent believes those two civilians are the ones who tailed Rufus from Puerto Rico,” I said. “However, their involvement in the attack doesn't fit with everything else we now know.” I made a note to ask Crawford to be sure the interrogators pursued that.

Max snickered. “It is always disturbing when you have a pat hand you thought was a royal flush, but turns out to be only an ace high flush.”

I hated to think Max could be right. “Switching to the home front, Senator Pembroke has requested through Senator Crawford that I take down his side of the story tomorrow at 3:00, before he meets with Senator Kelly at 5:00 to resign the chairmanship of HELP. The Senate officially begins its summer break at the close of business tomorrow, making it unlikely any announcement will be forthcoming until after the weekend. My overriding concern, though, is what Pembroke will tell Kelly, and if he'll play the Mort tape to the majority leader?”

“That would alter dynamics considerably. I best call Reed,” Max said, hanging up.

I called Barton's office and asked if I could see him.

When I arrived, Riley was in with Barton. I filled them in, right up to and including Max's call to Reed Davis.

“We'll need someone at Gitmo,” Barton told Riley. “Alert Claire to Laura's session with Pembroke. Make sure she understands why it is happening the way it is.”

“I doubt either Kelly or Pembroke will go public right away, but could she hang close to the majority leader just in case? We don't have a handle on what Senator Pembroke is going to tell the majority leader . . . namely about the Mort tape.”

“Ouch, I see your point,” Riley said. “That could be huge.”

“What's your guess, Laura?” Barton asked. “Will he or won't he?”

“Won't, sir. I think he'll blame his health.” I didn't want to get into a speculation game.

“I'll go to Senator Dalton's office after the interview. Senator Crawford will hang out at the majority leader's office while Pembroke is in with Kelly . . . to be there for whatever happens.”

“Thank you, Laura,” Barton said, standing.

He seemed pleased.

83

A
fter Jerry went to work and Anna had Tyler, I began organizing myself for the Pembroke interview. I called Ro's office and was passed through to her immediately.

“Good morning,” she said cheerfully.

“Hi. I'm at home until I go to Gavin's office at 3:00. I expect to be finished by 4:30, give or take, and I'll join you after that, if that's still okay. Did Michael mention his and my conversation from yesterday?”

“Yes. I talked to Dad last night. He told me Harley's flying Sherman to a New York City hospital for better care, but Dad's staying in Carmaya. Did you know that the Carmayan government commandeered the yacht, and then turned it over to our Marines?”

I forgot to call her about that. I faked it. “That's good news. Is the major's mother there?”

“Got in early yesterday. They put a medical team on her immediately.”

“That's a wonderful thing you and Harley did for—”

“I did very little. Once Harley knew about her, he took over. A private medical air service got her and a nurse to Miami. A charter service then flew them both to Carmaya. The nurse will stay with Mrs. DeMarco for a while.”

“That must have been a wonderful reunion between mother and son.”

“I'm sure,” she said wistfully.

“I'll let you go. See you later.” A moment after I hung up, Mary buzzed.

“FBI Agent Davis asked if you would call his cell phone.”

“Thanks.” I placed the call.

“Special Agent Davis.”

“Reed, Laura.”

“Hi. Our people at Gitmo, using translators, have interviewed the two wounded mercenaries individually. On the yacht, a man running the operation had shown all of them photographs of Harley and Sherman Rogers, giving them instructions to kill both, even though their primary objective was to just blow up the place.”