Games of State - Tom Clancy [100]
"With figures superimposed?" Hood asked.
"Yes. You could integrate photographs or computer-generated images. Just like in motion pictures."
Hood was beginning to get a picture he didn't like. He walked slowly toward the phone, sat down on the bed, and picked up the receiver.
"I'm going to call my office," he said. "There's something happening that I'm starting to get real worried about."
Nancy nodded. "Since the world's hanging in the balance, you don't have to reverse the charges."
Hood looked at Nancy. She was smiling. God bless her, he thought. She was as prone to psychotic mood swings as ever.
"Actually," Hood said as he punched in Mike Rodgers's number, "the world, or a good part of it, may very well be hanging in the balance. And you may be the only one who can save it."
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Thursday, 12:02 P.M.,
Washington, D.C.
After noting the information Hood needed, Rodgers farmed it out to Ann, Liz, and Darrell. Ordinarily, information requests went directly to the divisions responsible for surveillance, personal dossiers, code-breaking, and the like. But Hood needed a lot of different information, and asking Rodgers for it was both convenient and an expedient way of bringing his number two up to date.
Rodgers told Hood he'd get back to him as soon as possible.
Moments later, Alberto phoned to tell Mike Rodgers what Bob Herbert was up to. Rodgers thanked him and told him that he didn't want to bother Herbert with a return call. Even if the ringer were off, the vibration might distract him. Besides, the intelligence chief knew that his colleague would be behind him. As the only battle-tested warriors among the Op-Center elite, they enjoyed a very special bond.
Rodgers hung up, feeling an equal measure of pride and concern for Herbert. His instinct was to call for an extraction team to be flown in from one of the American bases in Germany. But during Chaos Days a stand down order had been issued to all American troops stationed in Germany, and all leaves cancelled. The last thing the governments of Germany and America wanted was an incident involving the military that might galvanize the neo-Nazis. It was best, under the circumstances, to let Herbert go in alone.
Rodgers was reflecting on Herbert's chances for success when Darrell McCaskey arrived. He was wearing one of his pained looks and carrying a short stack of distinctive white FBI folders with the Bureau's seal on front and "Eyes Only" stamped beneath.
"That was quick," Rodgers said.
McCaskey sat heavily in an armchair. "That's because we've got what Larry Rachlin would call bupkis on this Dominique character. Man, has he lived a careful life. I've got some other stuff for you too, but that was the big nothing."
"Let's have it anyway," Rodgers said.
McCaskey opened the top file. "His name was originally Gerard Dupre. His father ran a successful Airbus spare parts manufacturing plant in Toulouse. When the French economy imploded in the 1980s, Gerard had already moved the family business into video games and computers. His company, Demain, is privately held and worth an estimated $1 billion."
"That kind of money is not-- what'd you call it?"
"Bupkis, " McCaskey said, "and no, it isn't. But he looks clean as Lady Godiva's horse. The only blot seems to be some money-laundering scheme he worked through the Nauru Phosphate Investment Trust Fund, and he got wrist-slapped for that."
"Tell me about it," Rodgers said. Nauru sounded familiar, though he couldn't figure out why.
McCaskey looked at the file. "In 1992, Dominique and some other French businessmen reportedly gave money to a nonexistent bank there, while the money actually went through a series of banks to Switzerland."
"And then where?"
McCaskey said, "It was disbursed to fifty-nine different accounts throughout Europe."
"So funds could have gone from any of those fifty-nine accounts to anywhere else."
"Exactly," said McCaskey. "Dominique was fined for not paying French taxes on the money, but he paid up and that was that. Since a couple of the intermediary banks