Robert Ludlum – Aquatain Progression

stared at him in a cafe in the Kastrup Airport. It was

all so throughthe-looking-glass.

He had flown to Denmark for one reason, but

another purpose had been served. They had found

him, but in the finding they had revealed their own

panic. An agitated reception committee, the use of

a radio at night to reach an unseen vehicle only a

few hundred feet away, a racing limousine: these

were the ingredients of anxiety. The enemy was

off-balance and the lawyer in Converse was satisfied.

At this moment that enemy was a quarter of a mile

down the road speeding into Bonn, unaware that a

taxi behind them, skillfully maneuvered by a driver

slipping around the intermittent traffic, was keeping

them in sight.

Joel crushed out his cigarette as the driver

slowed down to let a pickup truck pass. He could see

the large dark-red car ahead on the long curve. The

German was no amateur, he knew the moves to

make, and Converse understood. Whoever was in

that limousine might well be an influential owner,

and even two hundred deutsche marks were not

worth the probable enmity of a powerful man.

Probabilities . . . everything was probabilities. He

had built his legal reputation on the study of

probabilities, and it was a simpler process than most

of his colleagues believed. The approach, that is, was

simple, not the work; that was never easy. It

demanded the dual discipline of concentrating on the

minute and prodding the imagination to expand until

the minutiae were arranged and rearranged into

dozens of different equations. This exhaustive what-if

process was the keystone of legal thinking; it was as

simple as that. It was also

148 ROBERT LUDIUM

a verbal trap, Joel reflected, as he thought back

several years, smiling an uncomfortable smile alone

in the darkness. In one of her moments of pique,

Val had told him that if he would spend one iota of

the time on the two of them that he spent on his

“goddamned probabilities,” he would “probably”

come to realize that the ‘probability” of their

surviving together was ‘very probably nil.”

She had never lacked for being succinct nor

sacrificed her humor in the pursuit of candor. Her

striking looks aside, Valerie Charpentier Converse

was a very funny lady. Unable not to, he had smiled

at her explosion that night years ago, then they both

had laughed quietly until she turned away and left

the room, too much sadness in the truth she had

spoken.

Large picturesque buildings gradually replaced

the quiet countryside, reminding Converse of huge

Victorian houses with filigreed borders and

overhanging eaves and grilled balconies beneath

large rectangular windows stark geometric shapes.

These in turn gave way to a contradictory stretch of

attractive but perfectly ordinary residential homes,

the sort that could be found in any traditional

wealthy suburb on the outskirts of a major

American city. Scarsdale, Chevy Chase Grosse

Pointe or Evanston. Then came the center of Bonn

where narrow, gaslit streets ran into wider avenues

with modern lighting, quaint squares only blocks

away from banks of contemporary stores and

boutiques. It was an architectural

anachronism Old World ambience coexisting with

up-tothe-minute structures, but with no sense of a

city, no sense of electricity or grandeur. Instead it

appeared to be a large town, growing rapidly larger,

the town fathers uncertain of its direction. The

birthplace of Beethoven and the gateway to the

Rhine Valley was the most unlikely capital

imaginable of a major government. It was anything

but the seat of a hard-nosed Bundestag and a series

of astute, sophisticated prime ministers who faced

the Russian bear across the borders.

“Mein Herrl” cried the driver. “They take the

road to Bad Godesberg. Das Diplomatenviertel.”

“What does that mean?”

“Embassies. They have Polizeistreifen! Patrols.

We could be, how do you say, known ?”

“Spotted,” explained Joel. “Never mind. Do what

you’ve been doing, you’re great. Stop, if you have

to; park, if you have

THE AQUITAINE PROGRESSION 149

to. Then keep going. You now have three hundred

deutsche marks over the fare. I want to know where

they stop.”

It came six minutes later, and Converse was

stunned. Whatever he had thought, wherever his

imagination had led him, he was not prepared for

the driver’s words.

‘That is the American embassy, mein Herr. ”

Joel tried to focus his thoughts. “Take me to the

Hotel Konigshof,” he said, remembering, not

knowing what else to say.

“Yes, I believe Herr Dowling left a note to that

effect,” said the desk clerk, reaching below the

counter.

“He did?” Converse was astonished. He had used

the actor’s name in the outside hope of some

possible preferential treatment. He expected nothing

else, if indeed that.

“Here it is.” The clerk extracted two small

telephone memos from the thin stack in his hand.

“You are John Converse, an American attomey.”

“Close enough. That’s me.”

“Herr Dowling said you might have difficulty

finding am propriate accommodations here in Bonn.

Should you come to the Konigshof tonight, he

requested that we be as helpful as possible. It is

possible, Herr Converse. Herr Dowling is a very

popular man.”

“He deserves to be,” said Joel.

“I see he also left a message for you.”

The clerk turned and retrieved a sealed envelope

from one of the mailboxes behind him. He handed

it to Converse, who opened it.

Hi, pardner.

If you don’t pick this up, I’ll get it back in the

morning. Forgive me, but you sounded like too

many

of my less fortunate colleagues who say no when

they

want to say yes. Now collectively in their case, it’s

some kind of warped pride because they think I’m

suggesting a handout it’s either that or they don’t

want to meet someone who may be where I’m

going.

By the looks of you, I’d have to rule out the

former

and stick with the latter. There’s someone you

don’t

want to meet here in Bonn, and you don’t have to.

The room’s taken care of and in my name change

that if you like but don’t argue about the bill. I

owe

150 ROBERT LUDLUM

you a fee, counselor, and I always pay my debts. At

least during the last four years I have.

Incidentally, you’d make a lousy actor. Your

pauses aren’t at all convincing.

Pa Ratchet

Joel put the note back in the envelope, resisting

the temptation to go to a house phone and call

Dowling. The man would have little enough sleep

before going to work; thanks could wait until

morning. Or evening.

“Mr. Dowling’s arrangements are generous and

completely satisfactory,” he said to the clerk behind

the counter. “He’s right. If my clients knew I’d come

to Bonn a day early I’d have no chance to enjoy

your beautiful city.”

“Your privacy will be respected, sir. Herr

Dowling is a most thoughtful man, as well as

generous, of course. Your luggage is outside with a

taxi, perhaps?”

“No, that’s why I’m so late. It was put on the

wrong plane out of Hamburg and will be here in the

morning. At least that’s what I was told at the

airport.”

“Ach, so inconvenient, but all too familiar. Is

there anything you might require?”

“No, thanks,” replied Converse, raising his

attache case slightly. “The bare necessities travel

with me…. Well, there is one thing. Would it be

possible to order a drink?”

“Of course.”

Joel sat up in bed, the dossier at his side, the

drink in his hand. He needed a few minutes to think

before going back into the world of Field Marshal

Erich Leifhelm. With the help of the switchboard,

he had called the all-night number for Lufthansa

and had been assured that his suitcase would be

held for him at the airport. He gave no explanation

other than the fact that he had been traveling for

two days and nights and simply did not care to wait

for his luggage. The attendant could read into his

words whatever she liked; he did not care. His mind

was on other things.

The American embassy! What appalled him was

the stark reality of old Beale’s words…. Behind it all

are those who do the convincing, and they’re growing

in numbers everywhere…. We’re in the countdown …

three to five Uzbeks that’s all you’ve got…. It’s real and

it’s coming. Joel was not prepared for the reality. He

could accept Delavane and

THE AQUITAINE PROGRESSION 151

Bertholdier, certainly I,eifhelm, but the shock of

knowing that ordinary embassy personnel American

personnel were on the receiving end of orders

from Delavane’s network was paralysing. How far

had Aquitaine progressed? How widespread were its

followers, its influence? Was tonight the frightening

answer to both questions? He would think about it

all in the morning. First, he had to be prepared for

the man he had come to find in Bonn. As he

reached for the dossier he remembered the sudden

deep panic in Avery Fowler’s eyes Preston

Halliday’s eyes. How long had he known? How

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