Clear and present danger - Tom Clancy [187]
"American Express just discovered that it has a bunch of cards for Juan Díaz. Several have been generated recently, and they don't know how."
"Oh?" Murray poured some coffee. "How come they weren't noticed?"
"For one thing, the statements are paid on time and in full, so that dog didn't bark. The addresses are all slightly different, and the name itself isn't terribly unusual, so a casual look at the records won't tip anyone off. What it looks like is that somebody has a way to tap into their computer system - all the way into the executive programming, and that might be another lead for us to run down. He's probably been staying with the name in case Moira gets a look at the card. But what it has told us is that he's made five trips to the D.C. area in the past four months. Somebody is playing with the AmEx computer system, somebody good. Somebody," the agent went on, "good enough to tap into a lot of computers. This guy can generate complete credit lines for Cortez or anyone else. There ought to be a way to check that out, but I wouldn't be real hopeful about running him down fast."
There was a knock at the door, and another young agent came in. "Dallas-Fort Worth," he said handing over a fax sheet. "The signatures match. He came in there and took a late flight to New York-La Guardia, got in after midnight local time on Friday. Probably caught the Shuttle down to D.C. to meet Moira. They're still checking."
"Beautiful," Murray said. "He's got all the moves. Where'd he come in from?"
"Still checking, sir. He got the New York ticket at the counter. We're talking with Immigration to see when he passed through customs control."
"Okay, next?"
"We have prints on him now. We have what looks like a left forefinger on the note paper he left Mrs. Wolfe, and we've matched that with the credit receipt from the airline counter at Dulles. It was tough, but the lab guys used their lasers to bring 'em out. We sent a team to The Hideaway, but nothing yet. The cleanup crew there is pretty good - too damned good for our purposes, but our guys are still working on it."
"Everything but a picture on the bastard. Everything but a picture," Murray repeated. "What about after Atlanta?"
"Oh, thought I said that. He caught a flight to Panama after a short layover."
"Where's the AmEx card addressed to?"
"It's in Caracas, probably just a letterdrop. They all are."
"How come Immigration doesn't - oh." Murray grimaced. "Of course his passport is under a different name or he has a collection of them to go with his cards."
"We're dealing with a real pro. We're lucky to have gotten this much so fast."
"What's new in Colombia?" he asked the next agent.
"Not much. The lab work is going nicely, but we're not developing anything we didn't already know. The Colombians now have names on about half of the subjects - the prisoner says he didn't know all of them, and that's probably the truth. They've launched a major operation to try an' find 'em, but Morales isn't real hopeful. They're all names of people the Colombian government's been after for quite a while. All M-19 types. It was a contract job, just as we thought."
Murray checked his watch. Today was the funeral for the two agents on Emil's protection detail. It would be held at the National Cathedral, and the President would be speaking there, too. His phone rang.
"Murray."
"This is Mark Bright down at Mobile. We have some additional developments."
"Okay."
"A cop got himself blown away Saturday. It was a contract job, Ingrams at close range, but a local kid popped a subject with his trusty .22, right in the back of the head. Killed him; they