Inside Out (21 page)

“Hey, the FBI woman just got a call, too,” Ben said. “Are they in on this now?”

“A lot of different players have been offering their input, yeah. Makes sense she’d be getting a call about now.”

“Anyway, so we know who Nico is.”

“That’s right. And it gets better. We isolated the alias Larison traveled under when he flew to San Jose on April 17, 2007. He’s used it six times since then. So we can put him in San Jose at least eight times.”

“But probably more than that, because he’d be traveling under other aliases, too.”

“Exactly. So whatever’s going on between Larison and Nico, it’s long-term, and it’s serious. This is not some casual hookup we’re talking about.”

“Does this mean no one’s talking about Marcy Wheeler and her son anymore?”

“It means that, yeah.”

Well, that was good. “So what’s the problem?”

“The same problem it always is, again and again and again. Stupidity and arrogance.”

“I’m not following you.”

Hort sighed. “I know. I’m not making myself clear. It’s been a long, frustrating night.”

“You’ve been up all night?”

“Yeah, arguing with the Neanderthals.”

Again, Ben was intrigued by Hort’s openness. He didn’t even know who the Neanderthals were. JSOC? NSC? Justice?

“Well, what’s the plan?”

There was a pause. “The plan is for you to stand down.”

“Stand down? But we’re so close.”

“You know it and I know it. But the powers that be think they know better.”

“What are they going to do?”

“They’re flying in a Ground Branch team right now.”

“Ground Branch? Why?”

“They want Larison to think they’re going to snatch Nico.”

“To bring Larison into the open?”

“That’s the idea. Snatch Larison, get him to spill his guts, recover the tapes, and call it a day.”

“That’s not going to work.”

“That’s right it’s not going to work. You tell me why.”

Ben thought for a moment, imagining Larison, putting himself in the man’s position, assessing the same threats, gaming out the same countermeasures. “Because … Larison would have planned for this. He said he’s got the tapes on some kind of electronic dead-man trigger. He’s not going to give that up, even under duress, because he knows that wouldn’t stop the duress.”

“I agree. They’re going to torture him to prove a negative—that there are no more copies of the tapes. No matter what he gives up, they can’t know he’s given up everything, so they get their doctors to keep him alive, and the torture never ends, ever. Larison knows what he’s in for if he’s caught. So what does he do?”

“He sets the dead man to a short fuse.”

“That’s right. He knows the only thing that could deliver him from his agony is having the tapes published. So by snatching him—”

“They might as well just publish the tapes themselves.”

“Good. Now, tell me this. How would you handle the situation if you were in charge?”

Ben had worked with Hort long enough to know when Hort was grooming him for some new skill set. But this was different. These were management-style questions, not tactical. Again, he was both confused and intrigued.

“I’d … leave Nico and his family alone. And when Larison called in, I’d tell him everything we’d found out. I’d tell him the bad news is, we know who he is, we know about Nico, we know everything. And if those tapes ever get released, we take it out on Nico and his family.”

“Good again. And what would be the good news?”

Ben thought. “I’d give him a bonus, I guess. Not a hundred million, that’s crazy, and maybe Larison would try to use it to resettle the family and eliminate our leverage. But something. A million, five million, something to show goodwill and no hard feelings. You know, enjoy the money, enjoy your life and your good health, and as long as those tapes never get revealed, it’s all live and let live. It’s not foolproof, but I think it’s the best we could do under the circumstances.”

There was a pause. Hort said, “Remember how I told you in, say, ten years, you could be as good as Larison?”

“Yeah.”

“I was wrong. I think you’re going to be better, and it’s not going to take that long. You’re already smarter, more in control of yourself, than the people who are jerking our chains.”

Ben was as intrigued by the reference to “our” chains as he was by Hort’s hints regarding the people who were jerking them. And as much as he wanted to believe Hort’s praise was deserved, he wondered whether there was something behind it, something he couldn’t yet see.

“I told them,” Hort said. “I told them we could not control this thing one hundred percent. That we need to work the odds. As long as there’s even a five percent chance the tapes could be released, we can’t move against Larison. And as long as there’s even a five percent chance of retribution against Nico and his family, Larison can’t release the tapes. Both sides indulge in a little strategic ambiguity while in fact standing down. That’s the best way for us to get what we say we really want, which is for those tapes not to be released.”

“What do you mean, ‘what we say we really want’?”

“Look, if they really just wanted the tapes, I already told them their best course of action. The problem is, they don’t just want the tapes. They also want Larison. They’re scared and they’re angry, and even though they don’t know it and won’t admit it, part of what’s driving them is the urge to subdue the author of their pain and strap him to a table and exercise dominion over his body, mind, and soul. They need to feel like they’re in control again, and just having the tapes out there with the lowest probability of release isn’t going to help with that.”

“But torturing Larison will.”

Hort sighed. “I want you to remember something, son. Remember it and never forget.”

“Okay.”

“There are going to be times when you will be tempted to use what the
New York Times
in their chickenshit way calls ‘harsh interrogation techniques.’ You can call it whatever you want, you and I know what it means, and so does everybody else.”

“Okay.”

“A good ops man understands his real objectives, knows the right objectives, and chooses his means accordingly. So when you feel that temptation, you never forget that when you resort to those tactics, your motives are at least as much about the means as they are about the ends.”

“I don’t follow.”

“People always say they’re torturing to get the information. But
there are a lot of ways better than torture to get information. So you don’t torture just because you want the information. You torture because you want to torture. I didn’t know this when I was your age. I know better now, and I don’t want you to make the mistakes I’ve made. Not just for tactical reasons, either. I don’t want your soul to have to bear it. I’ve seen what that does to a man. And I don’t want you to make the same mistakes these assholes keep making, again and again and again, and never learning from them. So promise me.”

Damn, he’d never heard Hort so agitated. He felt like he was starting to get a better sense of those unseen forces at work, that Hort was opening a window and letting him see inside. “I promise,” he said.

“Good. Now, Larison’s supposed to call in to the DCI thirty minutes from now. He’s expecting to get a status update about the diamonds. Instead, someone is going to tell him the diamonds aren’t coming and that if he doesn’t immediately hand over the tapes, Nico’s family is going to start getting smaller.”

“What good would it do if he turned something over anyway? He could have made a hundred copies.”

“That’s not the point. They’re just trying to bait him into going to San Jose.”

“You think it’ll work?”

There was a pause. “I think he’ll come. But if he does, he’ll be ready. And these Ground Branch guys, going up against a cornered, desperate man like Larison … they’re not going to get him. They’re going to get killed.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to observe. Whatever happens, it’s going to be hairy. Maybe you’ll be able to see something or learn something that’ll keep us in the game after this play is over. But you need to stay to the sidelines. These guys don’t know you, and they could be trigger-happy.”

“What about Lanier?”

“Your FBI friend?”

“I wouldn’t call her my friend.”

“Can you lose her?”

“I don’t know. She’s pretty tenacious.”

“Well, you’ll have to lose her or manage her, one or the other. You don’t want her in your way.”

Ben wasn’t sure which would be easier. “Okay,” he said.

“Larison should be calling in shortly. I’ll let you know how it goes. If this plan of theirs works out, I’d say you can expect him to arrive in Costa Rica in anywhere from the next six to twenty-four hours. It’s going to be an interesting day in San Jose.”

Ulrich was just heading into Trinity Methodist with his wife when he saw Clements standing by the entrance. Christ, were they watching him now? And was this their way of letting him know they were watching?

No, he was probably just being paranoid. And even if they were watching, so what? Did they really think they could intimidate him? He had the recordings, and God help them if they pushed him.

“You go ahead,” he said to his wife. “I just need to make a quick call.”

She smiled understandingly and went inside. She knew he viewed church attendance mostly as a matter of keeping up appearances, both in the community and, just in case, with the
Almighty. More often than not, the pre-church calls he made lasted longer than just a minute.

He raised his mobile to his ear and walked back out to the sidewalk, nodding at a few incoming parishioners along the way. By the time he reached the parking lot, he heard Clements just behind him. He dropped the mobile back into his pocket.

Clements fell in alongside him. “I tried you at the office, but—”

“What, are you watching me now?”

“Please. It’s pretty easy to know where someone goes to church.”

Clements’s denial did nothing to ease his suspicions. But it didn’t matter. The audiotapes were all the protection he needed. “What is it?”

Clements glanced down at Ulrich’s hands. “You taping this conversation?”

“I’ve got more than enough already. We’re already at mutual assured destruction, Clements. I don’t need more warheads.”

Ulrich waited, giving Clements time to absorb the truth of Ulrich’s words. After a moment, Clements said in a low voice, “The national security adviser just ordered JSOC to stand down. Larison called in this morning, we told him we know who he is, we know everything, that if he doesn’t cough up the tapes, his lover and his lover’s family are fucked, one at a time. We think he’s on his way to Costa Rica right now.”

Ulrich looked at him. “Your guys are there?”

“On their way. The national security adviser made clear this is CIA’s op. Horton didn’t like it, but he doesn’t have the resources right now anyway.”

“And you do? For a snatch?”

There was a pause. “Yes and no. No, Ground Branch doesn’t have a snatch team in theater. But we were able to scramble a private team. Blackwater.”

“Blackwater? We don’t want contractors getting hold of those tapes. Are you crazy?”

“What were our alternatives? You want JSOC running the op?”

Shit. Clements had a point. “You trust those guys?”

“More than I trust Horton.”

Another good point. “What about Horton’s guy? The one in the photo. Treven.”

“Like I said, he’s been ordered to stand down.”

“You really think Horton is just going to tell his man to walk away?”

Clements stroked his chin. “I see what you’re saying. Well, I have two Ground Branch guys there now per what we discussed previously. They’re not equipped for a snatch, and two is too few anyway, but you’re right, it wouldn’t hurt to have them keep looking for Treven.”

“Good. And even more important, make sure the contractors have the photo. If Treven shows up at the snatch point, they should assume he’s there to interfere. And you know, it’s not like they’d be expecting him, so it would be understandable if he accidentally got caught in the crossfire.”

“You’re right. I’ll make sure the Blackwater operators know who to look for.”

“And the Ground Branch guys. And what to do if they see him.”

Clements nodded and turned to walk away. “They’ll know.”

Paula came out of the bathroom, obviously done with her call. Ben said, “How’s the Bureau today?”

She looked at him. “They say my role here is done.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I’m supposed to return to Washington.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“You know it’s a bad thing. It means that’s it for the law. The assassins are going to take over now.”

Ben sighed. She was so earnest with the law-and-order shit.

“Look,” he said, “for what it’s worth, I’ve been ordered to stand down, too.”

“You have not.”

“Yeah, I have.”

“What about Larison?”

“He’s someone else’s problem now.”

“You can just care, and then not care, like flipping a light switch?”

“You’re assuming I cared to begin with.”

“You know, I’ll bet a lot of people believe you when you tell them something like that. I’ll bet there are times when you even believe yourself.”

“Look, it’s too early in the morning for you to psychoanalyze me, okay? Why don’t you just fly back to Washington, and next time I’m in town, we can have a drink.”

“I don’t think so.”

“You don’t drink?”

“I don’t think I’m just flying back to Washington with my wings clipped. And I don’t think you are, either.”

Ben didn’t answer. It felt like it was her move.

“You’re not, are you?”

He sighed. “I’m supposed to observe.”

“You’re not a very good liar.”

“Actually, I’m an accomplished liar. It just that this time, I’m not lying.”

“Tell me what’s going on.”

“I don’t know, exactly. All I know is my team is out, and some other team has been brought in. My coach doesn’t think the new team understands the game and is going to lose. Badly. He wants me to be on hand.”