The Day After Tomorrow_ A Novel - Allan Folsom [158]
McVey was different. That he was aging and maybe a little overweight meant nothing. Von Holden saw instantly what it was that had enabled him to kill Bernhard Oven. There was a sense about him ordinary men didn’t have. What he had seen and done in his long career as a policeman was in his eyes, and Von Holden knew instinctively that once he got hold of you, figuratively or physically, he would never let you go. Spetsnaz training had taught him there was only one way to deal with a man like McVey. And that was to kill him the moment you saw him. If you didn’t, you would regret it forever.
Entering his room, Von Holden locked the door behind him and sat down at a small table. Opening a briefcase, he took out a compact shortwave radio. Clicking it on, he punched in a code and waited. It would take eight seconds before he had a clear channel.
“Lugo,” he signed on, identifying himself.
“Ecstasy,” he said. Code name for the operation that had begun with Albert Merriman and was now focused on McVey and Osborn.
“E.B.D.”—European Bloc Division—he followed. “Nichts.”—Nothing.
Von Holden punched in his sign-off code and clicked off. He’d just informed the Organization’s European Bloc Division that there was no confirmation on liquidation of the Ecstasy fugitives. Officially they were still “at large,” and all operatives within the E.B.D. were to be alerted.
Putting the radio away, Von Holden shut out the light and looked out the window. He was tired and frustrated. By this time at least one of them should have been found. They had been seen boarding the train and it had made no stops. Either they were still under the wreckage or they had vanished like magicians.
Von Holden sat down on the bed and turned on the lamp, then picked up the phone and placed a call to Joanna in Zurich. He hadn’t seen her since the night she’d run hysterical and naked from his apartment.
“Joanna, it’s Pascal. Are you better?” For a moment there was silence. “Joanna?”
“—I haven’t been feeling well,” she said.
He could hear distance and anxiety in her voice. Something had happened to her that night, of course. But she would have no real memory of it because the drugs he’d given her beforehand had been too complex. Her reaction afterward had been akin to a bad LSD trip and that was what she was remembering.
“I was very concerned. I wanted to call sooner but it wasn’t possible. . . . Frankly, you were acting a little crazy that night. Maybe too much cognac and jet lag don’t mix. Maybe too much passion, too, do you think?” He laughed.
“No, Pascal. It wasn’t that.” She was angry. “I’ve had to work very hard with Mr. Lybarger. All of a sudden he has to be able to walk without a cane by this Friday. I don’t know why, either. I don’t know what happened the other night. I don’t like working Mr. Lybarger so hard. It’s not s good for him. I don’t like the way Doctor Salettl treats me or the way he bosses people around.”
“Joanna, let me explain something. Please. I think Doctor Salettl is acting the way he is because he is nervous. This Friday, Mr. Lybarger has to make a speech to the major shareholders of his corporation. The wealth and direction of the entire company depends on whether or not they feel he is competent to resume his position as chairman once more. Salettl is on the spot because the supervision of Mr. Lybarger’s recovery has been his responsibility. Do you understand?”
“Yes— No. I’m sorry, I didn’t know. . . . But it’s still no reason to—”
“Joanna, Mr. Lybarger’s speech is to be given in Berlin. Friday morning, you and I, and Mr. Lybarger and Eric and Edward, will fly there on Mr. Lybarger’s corporate jet.”
“Berlin?” Joanna hadn’t heard the rest, only Berlin. Von Holden could tell by her response that the idea upset her. He could feel that she had