Assumed Identity

3

At a safe-site apartment five blocks north of the Washington Post, the phone barely rang before the colonel stopped pacing and grabbed it off its hook. “Home Video Service.”

“Looks like it’s a no-show,” a man’s voice said. “Whoever this Mike Hamilton is, he was supposed to meet her at twenty after two. But now it’s quarter to three, the drizzle’s turning to rain, and she’s making moves as if that park bench she’s sitting on is awfully cold.”

“Keep watching until she goes back to work and our man in her department can take over watching her,” the colonel said.

“Maybe that’s what she’s doing now. Working,” the man’s voice said. “Just because the guy at the desk next to hers never heard her talk about anybody named Mike Hamilton, that doesn’t mean Hamilton still can’t be a source for a story she’s working on. Hell, for that matter, he might be a friend she knew when she worked in California.”

“Might be, Major? I don’t like my officers to make assumptions. The tapes of the conversations don’t mention California or anything else. She and Hamilton talk as if they’ve got some kind of relationship. But what? It’s all smoke.”

“Well, most people don’t review their life history when they phone somebody for lunch.”

“Are you being sarcastic, Major?”

“No, sir. Definitely not. I’m just trying to think out loud and analyze the problem. I’m guessing that if this meeting with Hamilton has anything to do with us, she wouldn’t be doing it in plain sight. Besides, we checked our computer records. No one named Hamilton was ever associated with our operations.”

“No one named Hamilton?” the colonel said. “Doesn’t it seem relevant to you that one of our specialties is pseudonyms? Damn it, what if Hamilton isn’t his real name?”

The line became silent for a moment. “Yes, sir, I get your point.”

“Since she came back from New Orleans, everything she’s done has been routine. Now, for the first time, she’s doing something that can’t be fully explained. For her sake, I hope it doesn’t involve us. I want to believe what she told Buchanan, that she’s given up the story. But I also want to know who the hell Mike Hamilton is.”

“Colonel, you can depend on me to. . Hold it. I’m getting a report from the surveillance team. . Somebody’s approaching the woman.”

The colonel stopped moving, stopped blinking, stopped breathing. He stared at the opposite wall.

“False alarm, sir,” the voice said. “It’s a black guy with a sign about needing a job. He’s trying to beg from everybody in the park.”

The colonel exhaled and seemed to come out of a trance. “Maintain surveillance. Keep me informed. I want to know what that woman’s doing every second.” With force, he terminated the connection.

From a chair in the corner of the room, Alan studied him. “Why don’t you give it a rest? Whatever happens will happen regardless if you’re staring at the phone.”

“You don’t seem to take this seriously.”

“Oh, I take it very seriously,” Alan said. “To me, this is a sign of how out of control this operation has become. Instead of taking care of business, you’re wasting all your resources worrying about Buchanan and this reporter.”

“Wasting?”

“As far as I’m concerned, both problems are solved. Let Buchanan keep digging a hole to bury himself. He’s gone-and I say fine. He’ll act his way into oblivion. About the reporter-hey, without Buchanan she doesn’t have a story. It’s as simple as that. If she breaks her agreement, we’ll deny everything she says, accuse her of putting her career ahead of the truth, and challenge her to produce this mysterious man she claims was God knows how many people.”

“Maybe she can.”

“What are you talking about?” Alan asked.

“She’s the reason Buchanan walked away from us,” the colonel said. “But maybe it’s not just professional. He tried to protect her, after all. Maybe there’s something personal between them.”

Alan frowned.

“One of Buchanan’s talents is changing his voice, imitating other people,” the colonel said. “Hasn’t it occurred to you that no matter what this guy sounds like on tape, Mike Hamilton could be Buchanan?”