The Hadrian Memorandum - Allan Folsom [120]
“Praia da Rocha. The back office of a used-book store.”
In ninety seconds Marten told him everything. Recovering the photographs. Striker’s massive oil find in Bioko and Moscow’s knowledge of it. That Anne was still with him. Kovalenko’s arrival with Franck and subsequent killing of him. That Franck had been working for the CIA. His own fear that a huge police dragnet would be put out for him once Franck’s body was found. Everything, that was, but the business about Kovalenko and the camera’s memory card. That was something that could wait for later.
“What about Joe Ryder?” Marten asked at the end.
“He’s left Iraq and is on his way to Rome and then Lisbon, where he’ll meet you,” the president said. “He’ll be at the Four Seasons Ritz, but not until tomorrow morning at the earliest. He has a dinner tomorrow night with Lisbon’s mayor. The whole thing has been played as a courtesy call on his way back to Washington. The mayor’s wife and Ryder’s support the same international charity, so it’s a logical cover. It’s a long way from Iraq to Portugal, so you should have more than enough time to get to Lisbon even if you have to slow it down. The question is, police or not, can you do it? Can you get there?”
“What about a safe house?”
“One has been set up for you in Lisbon, a small apartment in the old part of the city, the Bairro Alto”—Harris picked up a notebook from the table and opened it—“number seventeen Rua do Almada. Ask for a woman named Raisa Amaro. She lives in a flat on the first floor. She knows you’re coming. It’s not fancy, but it’ll do until Ryder arrives. Go there and stay there. He’ll know where you are and how to get in touch. So again, can you get there? If you don’t think so, I’ll try to arrange something else.”
“We’ll get there.”
“Good. Call me the minute you’re safe. I’ll take the information you gave me and work on it. If the oil field is what you say it is, the find is hugely strategic. No matter what you think of them, Striker’s done a great job of keeping it quiet. Still, the handling of the rest from here on in, your end to mine, has to be done with extreme caution. None of this can get out.”
“Cousin,” Marten warned, “don’t go near the CIA. Something is still very wrong.”
“The Lisbon station chief already knows Ryder’s coming. But that’s all he knows. Ryder will be under the protection of the State Department’s Regional Security Office. The RSO will coordinate his movements, but they won’t know about you or Ms. Tidrow. Joe Ryder’s pretty resourceful. He’ll find a way for you to meet him alone.”
“Thank you, my friend,” Marten said quietly, gratefully.
“You’re the one to thank, cousin. Take damn good care of yourself. Good luck and Godspeed.”
2:06 P.M.
Marten clicked off just as Logan’s door opened. Anne came in, followed by Stump Logan.
Anne looked at the cell phone in Marten’s hand, then at Marten. “Are we disturbing something?”
“An old girlfriend.”
“An old girlfriend? Right now, in the middle of all this?”
“Well, yes . . .”
“How old?”
“Let’s just say—from a long time ago.”
“And she still has your number?”
“And how.” Marten grinned a little, then slid the cell into his jacket. Abruptly the grin faded, and he looked to Logan. “Please close the door.”
He waited until Logan did, then looked at him directly. “A Berlin policeman followed me here investigating the murder of Theo Haas. He was killed at Cádiz’s home by a man who was with him and who later drove off with the body in the trunk of his car. Once it’s found the police will blanket this whole area, thinking I killed him. As I said earlier, all of this has to do with the civil war in Equatorial Guinea. Ms. Tidrow and I have a meeting tomorrow in Lisbon that hopefully will—”
“We do?” Anne interrupted him in surprise. Her look told him everything. She knew what the phone call had been about, that he had somehow arranged for them to meet with Joe Ryder in Lisbon. It was clear, too, that she realized she had little choice but to go through with her promise to meet him. At least for now.