“So, this is the man who’s been causing all the trouble,” Dino said. “Do you want me to put him under arrest?”
“I wish you would,” Stone said. “He’s been trying to blackmail me into taking him to Paris.”
“‘Blackmail’?” Teddy said. “I think that’s a little harsh.”
“He said if I wouldn’t take him, he’d turn me in for conspiracy to smuggle arms into the country.”
Dino nodded. “Makes sense to me. I guess you’d better go.” He sized Teddy up. “And just who might this be?”
“I don’t know,” Stone said. “I was just trying to figure that out myself. Who are you?”
Teddy shrugged. “I haven’t really thought that far ahead.”
“Then why the disguise?”
“I figured the opposition would be waiting for me when I landed, so I changed my appearance.”
“And your name?”
Teddy smiled. “I hadn’t thought of a name. It’s not like you have to show ID to get off the plane. I just had to look different. Now I don’t know if I should stay with this guise, or switch back to the tried and true.”
Dino considers. “Hmm. Young, dumb, and ugly. A good look for you.”
“That does it. I’m going with him.” Teddy handed Dino his cell phone. “Would you mind taking a photo? I assume Joan has a color printer.”
Teddy stood up against a bare wall and Dino snapped a picture.
Teddy held it up for Stone.
“That should do.” Stone pressed the intercom. “Joan, I’m sending you a photo. I need six color copies, passport size. Thanks.”
“Right away,” Joan said.
“So what’s this all about?” Dino said. “I’ve been pumping Stone for information, and he doesn’t know anything.”
“I didn’t want to talk on the phone,” Teddy said. “I was afraid my phone might be compromised. Turns out I was justified. Yesterday I got a phone call from Lance Cabot.”
Dino raised his eyebrows. “Lance Cabot, the director of the CIA? Lance Cabot, who put you on the top of his Most Wanted list and turned the bureau upside down trying to catch you?”
“The very one.”
“I thought he subscribed to the theory that you were dead.”
“That’s a folk myth. He might have wished it, but he never really bought it.”
“Then out of the blue he calls you up and says he knows who you are?”
“Actually, my name was never mentioned. He called me Billy Barnett.”
“He implied he knew who Billy Barnett was?”
“He more than implied it—he acted on that assumption. He told me there’s a mole in the CIA station in Paris, and he wants me to remove it.”
“Why would there be a mole in Paris?”
“He has no idea. But the fact that there might be is cause for alarm. Enough for him to admit my existence.”
“You say he called yesterday?” Dino asked.
“Yes.”
“And people are already trying to kill you?”
“Yes. His phone must be tapped. It has to be a little embarrassing for the head of the CIA.”
“Did you tell him?”
“Well, I can’t call him. But don’t worry, I’m taking care of it.”
14.
LANCE CABOT SAT at his desk going over the personnel files of some of his senior agents. A station head at the Chicago bureau was stepping down, and he needed to find a replacement. There was no one available with the necessary qualifications and experience. Someone would have to be promoted, it was just a question of finding the right agent. Excellence in the field did not necessarily translate into leadership abilities. Of necessity, some of the best agents worked alone.
Lance frowned, tossed a file on his desk, and reached for another.
The phone rang. Lance scooped it up. “Yes?”
It was Claire, his secretary. “There’s a Miss Millie Martindale here to see you.”
“Who?”
“Millie Martindale. She says you worked together.”
“Oh.” Lance remembered vaguely. Millie Martindale was the girlfriend of an FBI agent, and had actually been involved in resolving a mission involving the kidnapping of a congressman’s daughter. But why she thought that qualified her to show up at the CIA director’s office without an appointment was beyond him. He’d read her the riot act. “All right. Send her in.”
Millie Martindale came through the door as if they were long-lost friends. “Lance, how are you? It’s been too long. We have so much catching up to do. Listen, I have another appointment. Could you walk with me, and we can talk along the way?”
Lance stared at her, dumbfounded. He blinked twice and then found his voice. “Now, Miss Martindale . . .”
“I know, I know, I should have called. You have a very important job, and I don’t want to interrupt it. But I do need to talk to you and you need to talk to me, so if you would walk me out.”
Millie had linked her arm in Lance’s and was literally pulling him toward the door.
“I have no intention—”
“You can buy me a strawberry milkshake.”
Lance’s mouth fell open. He said nothing, but allowed himself be pulled toward the door.
In the outer office, Claire glanced up inquiringly.
“The director’s going out,” Millie said. “Hold his calls.”
They left the office, walked down the hall, and waited silently together in the elevator. Neither said a word until they were outside.
“Where did you learn that?” Lance demanded.
“What?”
“‘Strawberry milkshake.’”
“A mutual friend. He said not to use it unless I had to.”
“What the devil is going on?”
“Your security has been compromised. I don’t know if your office has been bugged, but your phone has been hacked.”
“Where’d you get that idea?”
“You just gave our mutual friend an assignment. Someone tried to kill him on his way to New York. He sent me to warn you your phone must be hacked.”
“How does he know it’s not his phone?”