Call to Treason - Tom Clancy [43]
Nonetheless, the call was unexpected.
The caller left a message on her cell phone, which she returned on a more secure landline in her office. It was not the caller who surprised her. Though the two of them had never worked together, they had met on a number of occasions. What surprised April was what the caller wanted. The government had hundreds of these weapons stored in military and intelligence warehouses around the globe. Then again, April understood that they might not have one exactly to these specifications. She also knew that sometimes goods had to be acquired "off the books" because the system had "moles and holes," as the caller referred to them.
April could deliver it, of course. And she would, because she trusted the caller and their mutual friend.
Besides, it was fun and lucrative. Just like working on the old Formica-topped kitchen table in the cabin in Sneedville.
April was informed that the components would be delivered to her home that evening, and she was to assemble them for pickup the following morning. That was more than enough time. These weapons were increasingly modular. Not like the days when Private Walter Dorrance had to use a mallet and spare train rails to fashion replacement cranks and ballast for the Allies' twelve-inch Mk4 siege Howitzers. He certainly did not get paid as well as she did, either. This one would buy her mother a new car.
And maybe do some good. Because war could be a force for good.
Even a war that was only one bomb long.
* * *
SIXTEEN
Washington, D.C. Monday, 5:22 p.m.
When Darrell McCaskey worked for the FBI, he nurtured relationships with the press. McCaskey did not believe it was the right of the public to know everything that was going on in law enforcement. But reporters had sources who were otherwise unavailable to the Bureau.
Information was the coin of the realm, and to find out what journalists knew, McCaskey often had to trade confidential data. Happily, he was never burned. Trust was the foundation of journalism between reporter and subject, medium and audience. Throughout his years with the Bureau, McCaskey had encountered a handful of agents he did not trust for one reason or another. Yet he never met a reporter who went back on his or her word. Results were the foundation of crime fighting, The guest list for Orr's party, published in the Washington Post, differed from the guest list given to McCaskey by the Metro Police. The newspaper had a list of everyone who was invited. The police had the list of people who had actually showed up, as tallied by the invitations turned in at the door.
There were four names on the invite list that did not show up on the attendance list. Mike Rodgers was on both lists. McCaskey could not imagine why the general had been invited.
Rodgers was out of the office, and McCaskey left a message on his cell phone. Then he called the Washington Post reporter who had covered the event. It would be necessary to talk to everyone who was there and also get an accurate head count; someone might have slipped in through the kitchen or a side door or walked in on the arm of a senator.
McCaskey also wanted to find out who Wilson was seen conversing with.
That was something a journalist would have noticed.
Bill Tymore was the Post business reporter who had attended the party.
He had come as the date of Kendra Peterson, Senator Orr's executive assistant. Tymore agreed to talk if McCaskey agreed to keep him in the loop, off the record. McCaskey did not have a problem with that.
"Before you ask, I've been seeing Kendra for nearly a year, she does not expect preferential coverage, and I left about a half-hour before Wilson did so I could write my article," Tymore said.
"So you don't know who might have left to visit him."
"Or if anyone did," Tymore pointed out. "I have someone looking into the local escort services. One of the girls might have been pay laid en route and an assassin put in her place."
"Paylaid," McCaskey repeated. That was a