China Crisis

He picked up the transceiver on the seat beside him and called Blancanales. “T.J. and Lerner in a metallic-gray Blazer heading your way, Pol.” He recited the license number. “Give them room. All we do now is watch and wait.”

“Understood.”

Lyons called Hermann Schwarz.

“The Politician has them under surveillance. They took off west from the bar.”

“Okay. What do we do?”

“Head back to the motel for now. We’ll coordinate once we hear from Pol or T.J.”

“M R . T OWNSEND, THIS IS T.J. Hawkins, the feller I called you about. We were in the service together until he got in a jam.”

“Heard about your trouble,” Townsend said. “You’re not the first to end up on the wrong end of military injustice. Might make a man want to get even. How do you feel on that score?”

“I think you already know that, Mr. Townsend. Since Vic called earlier, you probably have most there is to know about me.”

Townsend smiled. He jerked a thumb at the computer setup on the corner of his wide desk.

“We live in the age of information, Hawkins. Press a button and a man’s life spills right across your monitor.”

Don’t I know it, Hawkins thought. And now I also know I’m looking at your own information bank.

Hawkins waited. He wanted to see how Kurtzman’s data implants had colored his files. It was surprising, and a little scary, to realize just what could be done to someone’s background in the hands of a man like Aaron Kurtzman.

“Seems you’ve had quite a ride since you quit the military. Close scrapes with the law. What was that little fracas you had down in Albuquerque? They pulled you in for suspected dealings in illegal weapons. How come you walked away clean?”

Hawkins gave an embarrassed shrug. “I was kind of expecting problems, so I made sure I was well covered before the Border Patrol moved in. They searched, but they didn’t find a damn thing. While they were busting me, my deal was going through somewhere else.”

Townsend smiled. “So how come you’re walking around like a bum?”

“The deal was small-time, Mr. Townsend. By the time I paid off everyone it didn’t leave me with much, and the cops were still dogging me. I like making money. Problem is, I’m not too hot when it comes to working the financial side. So I had to move on. Since then, well, I guess my luck kind of went south.”

“With your guns by the sound of it,” Townsend said. “Your latest deal kind of bit you in the ass I hear.”

“Something like that.”

“Hawkins, I don’t deal small,” Townsend said. “You sound like the kind of man we could use. But don’t be fooled into thinking I tolerate any stupidity. Fuck around with me, and you’ll wish the Border Patrol had caught you. A stretch in Huntsville would be a vacation compared to what I could do to you.” He met Hawkins’s unflinching gaze. “Are we clear on that?”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Townsend. Understood. I might not be too smart with finance operations, but I know how to take orders.”

Townsend visibly relaxed. “Fine. Vic, can you make room for Hawkins?”

“Sure. Plenty of spare rooms in the bunkhouse.”

“Get him some clothes and whatever he needs. Hawkins, there’s something coming up shortly. You can handle it with Vic. Let’s see if you’re as good as your rap sheet says.”

When Hawkins and Lerner left the office, Townsend turned to Ralph Chomski, who had been standing quietly to one side, observing. “Do the usual, Ralph. Keep an eye on him. See if he does anything we should be suspicious of. If he behaves himself, fine. If there’s anything, anything, that doesn’t sit right, you know what to do.”

“Oh, I know what to do,” Chomski said, his mood lightening at the thought.

“Now let’s have Mr. Kibble in here. I have a feeling I’m not going to be too happy with what he has to tell me.”

Chomski left the room. He was back a couple of minutes later, accompanied by a sandy-haired man in his early forties. Townsend indicated a seat in front of his desk.

“You have a good flight?”

The man nodded, his expression indicating he was in no mood for small talk.

“Sit down, Mark, and tell me what the problem is.”

Mark Kibble took the offered seat. He sat on the edge, refusing to allow himself to relax, and Townsend took that as a bad sign. The man was so tense he would snap in two if he bent over.

“The problem is, I can’t complete the arrangement.”

Behind Kibble there was movement. It was Chomski. He already had his hand inside his jacket. Townsend caught his eye and gave a slight shake of his head.

“Take your time, Mark. Tell me what the problem is. Would you like a drink?”

Kibble raised a hand in a gesture of refusal. “I need to get this said.”

“Fine. Go ahead.”

“There’s been some kind of security initiative. I don’t know where it came from, but the entire setup has been upgraded. New people running things. All codes changed and a fresh protocol put into place. They’re even installing some new hand-print identification procedure. One of those gizmos where you have to place your hand on a pad and it scans your fingerprints against records held in the computer. They took mine yesterday, and they have introduced more frequent stop and searches. There’s no way I can risk taking anything out now.”

“And you haven’t had any directives telling you why all this is happening?”

“Not a thing. Someone did ask, and they were told it was none of their business and to carry on with their work.”

“Do you think it might have to do with the missing items?”

Kibble shrugged.

He was running scared, Townsend realized, and a frightened man might easily let something slip.

“What do we do?”

Townsend smiled. He knew what he had to do. But not here. Not now.

“Mark, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We need to take stock. Stand back and look at this calmly. There will be a way around it.”

Kibble shook his head. “No. I’m out. If I got caught, I’d end up in some federal facility and I won’t risk that. Jesus, it would ruin my family. I have a wife. Children.”

“And you have a great deal of money hidden away in that special account we help you set up.”

“I’ll give the money back. It isn’t worth all this risk.”

Kibble was sweating now. He was ready to cave. The next step could be running to the Feds and telling them everything if it would help to pull him out of the deep, dark hole threatening to swallow him.