The Cardinal of the Kremlin - Tom Clancy [173]
Business, Loomis noted at once. Butch took his bill to the register at the end of the counter, paid it, and left. He was good, Loomis noted yet again. She knew where and how he made the drop, but still she rarely caught him planting it.
Another regular came in. He was a cabdriver who usually got a cup of coffee before beginning his day, and sat alone at the end of the counter. He opened his paper to the sports page, looking around the cafe' as he usually did. He could see the napkin on the saucer. He wasn't quite as good as Butch. Setting the paper in his lap, he reached under the counter and retrieved the message, tucking it in the Style section.
After that, it was pretty easy. Loomis paid her bill and left, hopping into her Ford Escort and driving to the Watergate apartments. She had a key to Henderson's apartment.
"You're getting a message today from Butch," she told Agent Cassias.
"Okay." Henderson looked up from his breakfast. He didn't at all enjoy having this girl "running" him as a double agent. He especially didn't like the fact that she was on the case because of her looks, that the "cover" for their association was a supposed affair which, of course, was pure fiction. For all her sweetness, her syrupy Southern accent-and her stunning good looks! he grumped-Henderson knew all too well that Loomis viewed him as half a step above a microbe. "Just remember," she'd told him once, "there's a room waiting for you." She was referring to the United States Penitentiary- not "correctional facility"-at Marion, Illinois, the one that had replaced Alcatraz as the home.of the worst offenders. No place for a Harvard man. But she'd only done that once, and otherwise treated him politely, even occasionally grabbing his arm in public. That only made it worse.
"You want some good news?" Loomis asked.
"Sure."
"If this one goes through the way we hope, you might be clear. All the way out." She'd never said that before.
"What gives?" Agent Cassius asked with interest.
"There's a CIA officer named Ryan-"
"Yeah, I heard the SEC's checking him out-we they did, a few months back. You let me tell the Russians about that "
"He's dirty. Broke the rules, made half a million dollars on insider information, and there's a grand jury meeting in two weeks that's going to burn his ass, big-time." Her profanity was all the more vivid from the sweet, Southern-Belle smile. "The Agency's going to hang him out to dry. No help from anybody. Ritter hates his guts. You don't know why, but you heard it from Senator Fredenburg's aide. You get the impression that's he's a sacrificial goat for something that went wrong, but you don't know what. Something a few months back in Central Europe, maybe, but that's all you heard. Some of it you tell right off. Some you make them wait till this afternoon. One more thing-you've heard a rumor that SDI may actually be on the table. You think it's bad information, but you heard a senator say something about it. Got it?"
"Yeah." Henderson nodded.
"Okay." Loomis walked off to the bathroom. Butch's favorite coffee shop was too greasy for her system.
Henderson went to his bedroom and selected a tie. Out? he wondered as he knotted it partway, then changed his mind. If that were true-he had to admit that she'd never lied to him. Treated me like scum, but never lied to me, he thought. Then I can get out ? Then what? he asked himself. Does it matter?
It mattered, but it mattered more that he'd get out.
"I like the red one better," Loomis observed from the door. She smiled sweetly. "A 'power' tie for today, I think."
Henderson dutifully reached for the red one. It never occurred to him to object. "Can you tell me ?"
"I don't know-and you know better. But they wouldn't let me say this unless everybody figured that you paid some back, Mr. Henderson."
"Can't you call me Peter,