Patriot games - Tom Clancy [152]
Special Agent Shaw was walking through the door of his Chevy Chase home when the phone rang. His teen-age daughter answered it and just held it out to him. This sort of thing was not the least unusual.
"Shaw here."
"Mr. Shaw, this is Nick Capitano from the Annapolis office. The city police here have in custody a man with a pistol, a knife, but no ID. He refuses to talk at all, but earlier he did speak to a couple of Marines, and he had an accent."
"That's nice, he has an accent. What kind?" Shaw asked testily.
"Maybe Irish," Capitano replied. "He was apprehended just outside Gate Three of the U.S. Naval Academy. There's a Marine here who says that some teacher named Ryan works there, and he got some sort of warning from the Anti-Terrorism Office."
What the hell. "Have you ID'd the suspect yet?"
"No, sir. The local police just fingerprinted him, and they faxed a copy of the prints and photo to the Bureau. The suspect refuses to say anything. He just isn't talking at all, sir."
"Okay," Shaw thought for a moment. So much for dinner. "I'll be back in my office in thirty minutes. Have them send a copy of the mug shot and the prints there. You stay put, and have somebody find Doctor Ryan and stay with him."
"Right."
Shaw hung up and dialed his office at the Bureau. "Dave, Bill. Call London, and tell Dan Murray I want him in his office in half an hour. We may have something happening over here."
"'Bye, Daddy," his daughter said. Shaw hadn't even had time to take off his coat.
He was at his desk twenty-seven minutes later. First he called Nick Capitano in Annapolis.
"Anything new?"
"No, sir. The security detail at Annapolis can't find this Ryan guy. His car is parked on the Academy grounds, and they've got people looking for him. I've asked the Anne Arundel County Police to send a car to his home in case he got a ride-car broke down, or something like that. Things are a little wild here at the moment. Something crazy happened about the same time this John Doe gunman got picked up. A car got hosed down with a machine gun just outside the city."
"What the hell was that?"
"The State Police are handling it. We haven't been called in," Capitano explained.
"Get a man over there!" Shaw said at once. A secretary came into the office and handed him a folder. Inside was a facsimile copy of the suspect's mug shot. It showed full face and profile.
"Hold it!" He caught the secretary before the door was closed. "I want this faxed to London right now."
"Yes, sir."
Shaw next dialed the tie line to the embassy in London.
"I just got to sleep," the voice answered after the first ring.
"Hi, Dan. I just missed dinner. It's a tough world. I have a photo being faxed to you now." Shaw filled Murray in on what had happened.
"Oh, my God." Murray gulped down some coffee. "Where's Ryan?"
"We don't know. Probably just wandering around somewhere. His car's still parked in Annapolis -at the Academy, I mean. The security guys are looking for him. He's gotta be all right, Dan. If I read this right, the suspect in Annapolis was probably waiting for him."
The photograph of Eamon Clark was already in the embassy. The Bureau's communications unit worked on the same satellite net used by the intelligence services. The embassy communications officers were actually employees of the National Security Agency, which never slept. The facsimile had arrived with a FLASH-priority header, and a messenger ran it up to the Legal Attache's office. But the door was locked. Murray had to set the phone down to open it.
"I'm back," Murray said. He opened the folder. The photo had suffered somewhat from