wireless call to a precise location.
The National Security Agency would be able to trace the call with its
stadium-size circular antennae. The super-secret NSA possessed
technological might that made anything the CIA had pale by comparison,
Thornhill well knew. It was said that the intelligence the NSA
perpetually swept out of the air could fill the Library of Congress
every three hours, gobbling up avalanches of information-bytes.
Thornhill had availed himself of the NSA’s services before. However,
the NSA (the inside joke was that the acronym stood for “no such
agency”) was often difficult for anyone to control. Thus Thornhill
didn’t want to involve them in this highly sensitive matter. He would
handle it himself.
“You know why I’m calling?” Buchanan said.
“A tape. A highly personal one.”
“It’s good doing business with someone who considers himself
omniscient.”
“I would appreciate some small bit of evidence, if it’s not too much
trouble,” Thornhill said placidly.
Buchanan played a snatch of the earlier conversation between the two
men.
“Thank you, Danny. Now, your terms?”
“Point one, you don’t go near Lee Adams’s daughter. That is called
off. Now and forever.”
“Do you happen to be with Mr. Adams and Ms. Lockhart right now?”
“Second, all three of us are off limits as well. If anything remotely
suspicious happens, then the tape goes directly to the FBI.”
“During our last conversation you said you already had the means to
destroy me.”
“I lied.”
“Do Adams and Lockhart know of my involvement?”
“No.”
“How can I trust you?”
“It would only have put them in more danger to tell them. All they
want to do is survive. It seems a common enough goal these days. And
I’m afraid you’ll just have to take my word for it.”
“Even though you just admitted lying to me?”
“Exactly. Tell me, how does it feel?”
“And my long-term plan?”
“I really don’t give a damn at this point.”
“Why did you run?”
“Put yourself in my place; what would you have done?”
“I would never have allowed myself to be put in your place,” said
Thornhill.
“Thank God we can’t all be like you. Do we have an agreement?”
“I don’t have much choice, do I?”
“Join the club,” said Buchanan. “However, you can be absolutely
certain that if anything happens to any of us, it’s over for you. But
if you play fair, you accomplish your goal. Everyone lives to
celebrate.”
“Good doing business with you too, Danny.”
Thornhill clicked off and sat there seething for a few moments. Then
he made another call but came away disappointed. The trace had not
been made. Well, that was all right. He hardly expected it to be so
easy. He still had his ace in the hole. He made one more phone call
and this time the information brought a broad smile to his lips. As
Danny had said, Thornhill did know all there was to know, and he
thanked God for his omniscience. When you planned for every possible
contingency you were difficult to beat.
Buchanan was with Lockhart, of that he was almost certain. His two
golden birds were occupying the same nest. That made his task
infinitely simpler. Buchanan had outsmarted himself.
He was just about to refill his scotch when his wife popped her head
in. Would he like to go to the club with her? There was a bridge
tournament going on. She had just gotten a call. A couple had
canceled and wanted to know if the Thornhills could take their place.
“Actually,” he said, “I’m very much engaged in a game of chess.” His
wife looked around the empty room. “Oh, it’s long-distance, dear,”
Thornhill explained, nodding at his desktop computer. “You know the
things one can do with technology these days. You can do battle and
never even see your opponent.”
“Well, don’t stay up too late,” she said. “You’ve been working very
hard and you’re not a young man anymore.”
“I see light at the end of the tunnel,” Thornhill replied. And this
time he was telling the absolute truth.
CHAPTER 48
REYNOLDS AND CONNIE REACHED DUCK, North Carolina, around one in the
morning after only a single stop for fuel and food and reached Pine