Patriot games - Tom Clancy [153]
"How fast can you ID him?"
"I can call Jimmy Owens real quick. You in your office?"
"Yeah," Shaw answered.
"I'll be back." Murray changed buttons on his phones. He didn't have Owens' home number memorized and had to look it up.
"Yes?"
"Hi, Jimmy, it's Dan." Murray 's voice was actually chipper now. Have I got something for you.
Owens didn't know that yet. "Do you know what time it is?"
"Our guys have somebody in custody that you may be interested in."
"Who?" Owens asked.
"I got a picture but no name. He was arrested in Annapolis, outside the Naval Academy -"
"Ryan?"
"Maybe." Murray was worried about that.
"Meet me at the Yard," Owens said.
"On the way." Murray headed downstairs for his car.
It was easier for Owens. His house was always watched by a pair of armed detectives in a police car. All he had to do was step outside and wave, and the Land Rover came to his door. He beat Murray by five minutes. By the time the FBI agent arrived, Owens had already consumed a cup of tea. He poured two more.
"This guy look familiar?" The FBI agent tossed the photo over. Owens' eyes went wide.
"Ned Clark," he breathed. "In America, you say?"
"I thought he looked familiar. He got picked up in Annapolis."
"This is one of the lads who broke out of Long Kesh, a very bad boy with several murders to his name. Thank you, Mr. Murray."
"Thank the Marines." Murray grabbed a cup of tea. He really needed the caffeine. "Can I make a call?" Within a minute he was back to FBI headquarters. The desk phone was on speaker so that Owens could listen in.
"Bill, the suspect is one Ned Clark, a convicted murderer who escaped from prison last year. He used to be a big-time assassin with the Provos."
"I got some bad news, Dan," Shaw replied. "It appears that there was an attack on this Ryan fellow's family. The State Police are investigating what looks like a machine-gun attack on a car belonging to Doctor Caroline Ryan, MD. The suspects were in a van and made a clean escape after killing a state trooper."
"Where is Jack Ryan?" Murray asked.
"We don't know yet. He was seen leaving the Naval Academy grounds in the car of a friend. The troopers are looking for the car now."
"What about his family?" It was Owens this time.
"They were flown to the Shock-Trauma Center in Baltimore. The local police have been notified to keep an eye on the place, but it's usually guarded anyway. As soon as we find Ryan we'll put some people with him. Okay, on this Clark kid, I'll have him in federal custody by tomorrow morning. I expect that Mr. Owens wants him back?"
"Yes." Owens leaned back in his chair. He had his own call to make now. As often happened in police work, there was bad news to accompany the good.
"Mr. Ryan?" It was a doctor. Probably a doctor. He wore a pink paper gown and strange-looking pink booties over what were probably sneakers. The gown was bloodstained. He couldn't be much over thirty, Ryan judged. The face was tired and dark. DR. BARRY SHAPIRO, the name tag announced, DEPUTY TRAUMA-SURGEON-IN-CHIEF. Ryan tried to stand but found that his legs would not work. The doctor waved for him to remain seated. He came over slowly and fell into the chair next to the sofa.
What news do you bring me? Ryan thought. His mind both screamed for information and dreaded learning what had happened to his family.
"I'm Barry Shapiro. I've been working on your daughter." He spoke quickly, with a curious accent that Ryan noted but discarded as irrelevant. "Okay, your wife is fine. She had a broken and lacerated upper left arm and a nasty cut on her head. When the helicopter paramedic saw the head wound-heads bleed a lot-he brought her here as a precaution. We ran a complete head protocol on her, and she's fine. A mild concussion, but nothing to worry about. She'll be fine."
"She's pregnant. Do-"
"We noticed." Shapiro smiled. "No problem with that. The pregnancy has not been compromised