Ryan nodded. “Yeah, it’s all intelligence.”
“That’s right. Without the right information we’re crippled. All we can do is plod along and hope for a break. But give us one solid fact and we’ll bring the whole friggin’ world down on ’em. It’s like taking down a brick wall. The hard part’s getting that first brick loose.”
“And where do they get their information?”
“They told me you tumbled to that,” Murray observed with a smile.
“I don’t think it was a chance encounter. Somebody had to tip them. They hit a moving target making an unscheduled trip.”
“How the hell did you know that?” the agent demanded.
“Doesn’t matter, does it? People talk. Who knew that they were coming in?”
“That is being looked at. The interesting thing is what they were coming in for. Of course, that could just be a coincidence. The Prince gets briefed on political and national security stuff, same as the Queen does. Something happened with the Irish situation, negotiations between London and Dublin. He was coming in for the briefing. All I can tell you.”
“Hey, if you checked me out, you know how I’m cleared,” Ryan sniffed.
Murray grinned. “Nice try, ace. If you weren’t cleared TS, I wouldn’t have told you this much. We’re not privy to it yet anyway. Like I said, it might just have been a coincidence, but you guessed right on the important part. It was an unscheduled trip and somebody got the word out for the ambush. Only way it could have happened. You will consider that classified information, Doctor Ryan. It doesn’t go past that door.” Murray was affable. He was also very serious about his job.
Jack nodded agreement. “No problem. It was a kidnap, too, wasn’t it?”
The FBI agent grimaced and shook his head. “I’ve handled about a half-dozen kidnappings and closed every case with a conviction. We only lost one hostage — they killed that kid the first day. Those two were executed. I watched,” Murray said coldly. “Kidnapping is a high-risk crime all the way down the line. They have to be at a specific place to get their money — that’s usually what gets ’em caught. We can track people like you wouldn’t believe, then bring in the cavalry hard and fast. In this case . . . we’re talking some impressive bargaining chips, and there would not be a money transfer — the public release of some ‘political’ prisoners is the obvious objective. The evidence does lean that way, except that these characters have never done one of those. It makes the escape procedures a lot more complex, but these ULA characters have always had their escape routes well planned beforehand. I’d say you’re probably right, but it’s not as clear-cut as you think. Owens and Taylor aren’t completely sure, and our friend isn’t talking. Big surprise.”
“They’ve never made a public announcement, you said? Was this supposed to be their break into the big time? “Their first public announcement, they might as well do it with something spectacular,” Ryan said thoughtfully.
“That’s a fair guess.” Murray nodded. “It certainly would have put them on the map. Like I said, our intel on these chaps is damned thin; almost all of it’s secondhand stuff that comes through the PIRA — which is why we thought they were actually part of it. We haven’t exactly figured what they’re up to. Every one of their operations has — how do I say this? There seems to be a pattern there, but nobody’s ever figured it out. It’s almost as though the political fallout isn’t aimed at us at all, but that doesn’t make any sense — not that it has to make sense,” the agent grunted. “It’s not easy trying to psychoanalyze the terrorist mind.”
“Any chance they’ll come after me, or –” Murray shook his head. “Unlikely, and the security’s pretty tight. You know who they have taking your wife and kid around?”
“SAS — I asked.”
“That youngster’s on their Olympic pistol team, and I hear that he has some field experience that never made the papers. The DPG escort is also one of the varsity, and they’ll have a chase car everywhere they go. The security on you is pretty impressive, too. You have some big-league interest in your safety. You can relax. And after you get home it’s all behind you. None of these groups has ever operated in the U.S. We’re too important to them. NORAID means more to them psychologically than financially. When they fly to Boston, it’s like crawling back into the womb, all the beers people buy for them, it tells them that they’re the good guys. No, if they started raising hell out our side of the pond — I don’t think they could take being persona non grata in Boston. It’s the only real weak point the PIRA and the rest have, and unfortunately it’s not one that we can exploit all that well. We’ve pretty much cut down on the weapons pipeline, but, hell, they get most of their stuff from the other side now. Or they make their own. Like explosives. All you need is a bag of ammonia-based fertilizer and you can make a respectable bomb. You can’t arrest a farmer for carrying fertilizer in his truck, can you? It’s not as sexy as some good plastique, but it’s a hell of a lot easier to get. For guns and heavier stuff — anybody can get AK-47s and RPGs, they’re all over the place. No, they depend on us for moral support, and there’s quite a few people who’ll give it, even in Congress. Remember the fight over the extradition treaty? It’s amazing. These bastards kill people.
“Both sides.” Murray paused for a moment. “The Protestant crazies are just as bad. The Provisionals waste a prod. Then the Ulster Volunteer Force sends a car through a Catholic neighborhood and pops the first convenient target. A lot of the killing is purely random now. Maybe a third of the kills are people who were walking down the wrong street. The process feeds on itself, and there’s not much of a middle ground left anymore. Except the cops — I know, the RUC used to be the bad guys, too, but they’ve just about ended that crap. The Law has got to be the Law for everyone — but that’s too easy to forget sometimes, like in Mississippi back in the sixties, and that’s essentially what happened in Northern Ireland. Sir Jack Hermon is trying to turn the RUC into a professional police force. There are plenty of people left over from the bad old days, but the troops are coming around. They must be. The cops are taking casualties from both sides, the last one was killed by prods. They firebombed his house.” Murray shook his head. “It’s amazing. I was just over there two weeks ago. Their morale’s great, especially with the new kids. I don’t know how they do it — well, I do know. They have their mission, too. The cops and the courts have to reestablish justice, and the people have to see that they’re doing it. They’re the only hope that place has, them and a few of the church leaders. Maybe common sense’ll break out someday, but don’t hold your breath. It’s going to take a long time. Thank God for Tom Jefferson and Jim Madison, bub. Sometimes I wonder how close we came to that sectarian stuff. It’s like a Mafia war that everybody can play in.”
“Well, Judge?” Admiral James Greer hit the off switch on the remote control as the Cable News Network switched topics. The Director of Central Intelligence tapped his cigar on the cut-glass ashtray.
“We know he’s smart, James, and it looks like he knows how to handle himself with reporters, but he’s impetuous,” Judge Arthur Moore said.
“Come on, Arthur. He’s young. I want somebody in here with some fresh ideas. You going to tell me now that you didn’t like his report? First time at bat, and he turns out something that good!”
Judge Moore smiled behind his cigar. It was drizzling outside the seventh-floor window of the office of the Deputy Director, Intelligence, of the Central Intelligence Agency. The rolling hills of the Potomac Valley prevented his seeing the river, but he could spy the hills a mile or so away on the far side. It was a far prettier view than that of the parking lots.
“Background check?”
“We haven’t done a deep one yet, but I’ll bet you a bottle of your favorite bourbon that he comes up clean.”
“No bet, James!” Moore had already seen Jack’s service record from the Marine Corps. Besides, he hadn’t come to the Agency. They had gone to him and he’d turned them down on the first offer. “You think he can handle it, eh?”
“You really ought to meet the kid, Judge. I had him figured out the first ten minutes he was in here last July.”