Mounting Fears

"SO?" THE DIRECTOR ASKED.

Kerry told him how the interview had gone. "I'm sending Shelly Bach to Tijuana to interview Pedro Martнnez," he said. "I've authorized a jet for her."

"You go, too," Bob Kinney replied. " 'Assistant director' will look better on the passenger manifest. We're not in the habit of authorizing Citations for special agents."

"Yes, sir," Kerry said, surprised, but he could not regret spending ten or twelve hours in a small jet with Shelly Bach.

MARTIN STANTON WAS BACK in his family-quarters office and reaching for his throwaway cell phone.

"Hello!" her surprised voice said.

"Hello."

"You don't sound so good."

"I'm a little tired. I've just spent three hours with two FBI agents who are exploring every nook and cranny of my life."

"How'd it go?"

"Pretty well. You remember when we were in San Diego last summer, when I was speaking at that thing?"

"Yes."

"You met an old family friend from Mexico?"

"Yes."

"I want you to find him and talk with him as soon as possible."

"Why?"

"You remember the story about my birth?"

"In the backseat of the car? Sure."

"Get him to tell you that story, and make sure he states clearly that I was born on the U.S. side of the border. And get it on tape."

"You want me to do this myself?"

"I wouldn't trust anybody else with this job."

"I think I'm getting the picture here-geography is important?"

"You're getting the picture. Call the Coke plant and get his address. Go by private airplane and pay cash. You know where to get the money. Don't use your own name, except with immigration."

"I understand. I'll go down this weekend."

"Go tomorrow, and as early as possible."

"As you wish."

"Tell the old man some other people may visit him, and it's important that he tell them the right story."

"I understand."

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

Stanton broke the connection.

HALF A MILE from the White House, Felix Potter pulled the tape from the recorder and tucked it into his shirt pocket. This was the second recording of these two people, and it wasn't much better than the first. He called Marlene.

"Hey," she said.

"I got those two people on tape again," he said. "I think either from the White House or the Executive Office Building, next door."

"Did you get everything this time?"

"No, it's a lot like the last recording. Get this, though-they said something about a coke plant."

"You're thinking drugs?"

"What else?"

"You think someone in the White House or the EOB is doing drug deals?"

"Shit, I don't know, but there's always the possibility. Do you have any idea where the woman in the conversation is?"

"I assume in D.C., but she could be anywhere."

"Still no caller ID came through?"

"Nah, they're probably talking on throwaways."

"Well, if they're going to those lengths to not be identified, there must be something weird going on."

"Yeah, I thought it was just two people fucking on the sly, but if they're talking about a coke plant, then I don't know."

"When I get home from work, we'll listen to both tapes together and see if we can figure out what's going on."

"See you at home, then." Felix hung up. As he did, a blue light started flashing in his rearview mirror, and a whooper went off. He pulled over and checked out the car in the mirror: black and apparently unmarked. He spread an unfolded city map over his radio installation and set his camera on the dash to anchor it, then rolled down his window.

A man in civilian clothes walked up to his car, holding out an ID. "Federal officer," the man said. "Step out of the car, please."

Felix got out and reached for his wallet.

"Easy," the officer said, grabbing his arm.

"I thought you'd want to see my license," Felix said.

"Slowly," the man said.

Felix retrieved his wallet from a hip pocket, fished out his license, and handed it to him.

The man looked at it, then produced some sort of electronic device and appeared to scan the license. "You've been driving around and around the White House for over an hour," the officer said. "What are you doing?"

"I'm a photographer," Felix replied. "Freelance. I get shots of people visiting the White House, when I'm lucky."

"What's in your camera now?"

"Nothing. I haven't been lucky today. I was about to go home when you stopped me. I'm not breaking any laws."

The officer handed back his license. "See that you don't," he said.

"But you'll see me around here again, doing the same thing. I'd appreciate it if you'd pass the word that I'm harmless."

The agent snorted, got back in his car, and drove away.

Felix breathed a sigh of relief. He was going to have to work on concealing the equipment in his car.