The Hadrian Memorandum - Allan Folsom [76]
“You also said you wanted the photos so you could threaten to turn them over to the Ryder Commission if your friends at Striker and Hadrian and SimCo didn’t stop arming the insurgency.”
“Yes.”
“How do I know your real goal isn’t simply to protect Striker? Get the pictures and destroy them.”
“It’s not.”
“How do I know?”
Anne glared at him. “I’ll ask you what I did yesterday. How much do you want for the photos? Name your price, anything you want.”
“Anything?”
“Yes.”
“I want you.”
“Me?”
“Yes,” he said quietly.
Anne was astounded. “For Christ’s sake, Nicholas, after everything this is about sex? You want to fuck me? Is that your price? Jesus God!”
“I don’t want to fuck you,” he said as quietly as before. “I want you to fuck your company.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“Conor White is prominent in a number of the photos.”
“So. You’ve actually seen them.” Anne smiled lightly as if she’d just achieved some sort of cruel victory.
“Some, not all.” Marten stepped closer to her, as if to underscore the gravity of what he was telling her. “The point is Conor White is easily identifiable. Maybe you don’t want to destroy the pictures, but he does because he’s got a helluva lot to lose if they’re made public. Who he kills or how he gets them doesn’t seem to make much difference. One way or another he’s already responsible for the deaths of Father Willy and his brother, to say nothing of my Spanish friends. If you have the photos, Striker board member or not, CIA or not, he’ll kill you as quickly as he will me.”
Anne’s eyes darted over his face. “I still don’t know what you want me to do.”
“If I bring you with me and we get the pictures, we take them to Joe Ryder himself. You tell him who you are and who Conor White is and that you want to do anything you can to stop the flow of weapons to the rebels, hoping that the State Department can then pressure Tiombe into ordering his fighters to stand down.
“Of course, that will lead to his wanting to know more, and you’ll tell him about SimCo as a front company for Hadrian, which in turn will make him go after the Striker/Hadrian enterprise even harder than he already is. If he can prove Hadrian and SimCo are providing arms to the rebels at Striker’s behest, your Mr. Sy Wirth and the other decision makers at Striker, as well as Conor White and the people running Hadrian, will be in for a very ugly time. Prison wouldn’t be out of the question for anyone, you included. You said ‘anything,’ Anne. That’s the price, otherwise—”
Abruptly there was a knock at the door. Erlanger’s voice came through it. “I have coffee. Should I leave it outside?”
“Give us a minute, Hartmann,” Anne said and looked back to Marten. “Otherwise, what?”
“Otherwise I’ll think you want the photos to protect your company and its investments in Equatorial Guinea. I’ll assume they sent you because you’re a very attractive woman and you might use that against me—the way you already have, taking off your robe in the hotel, kissing me in the middle of the street with the police watching, sitting in nothing more than panties and a T-shirt with your nipples showing through as you told me the story of your life. And because you were CIA you would know better than most what the hell you were doing and how to do it. You would have been trained for it.”
For a moment Marten thought he was going to get slapped, but it didn’t happen. Anne just stood there, breathing softly, staring at him in silence.
“That’s the deal,” he said finally. “Understand it?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me you agree.”
“How do you know you can trust me even if I do?”
“Because you just might be telling the truth about doing this for your father—for his memory, for the reputation of the company he built, and because you loved him. And because there’s always Hauptkommissar Franck if you’re not.”
He could feel her nails come up. Her stare cut him in two, but she said nothing. Finally, she nodded almost imperceptibly.
“No, say it,” he pressed her.
“I agree.”
“To everything.”
“To everything.”
He looked at her for a long moment, judging