Sea of Fire

Chapter Fifty-Two

The phone beeped, and Hood snapped it up. He had just finished talking to Stephen Viens, who was rushing to the office. In his absence, weekend surveillance staffer Mary Timm was starting up the GPS sweep. It was not a complex operation, and the exchange officer was from the Communications Security Establishment of Canada's Department of National Defence. That was the branch of government that analyzed and catalogued intercepted radio and various electronic emissions from other nations. The CSE liaised closely with both the United States and Great Britain's SIGINT services.

"R. Clayton Herbert," said the deep and smoky voice on the other end of the phone. "That's Bob Herbert. He's on your staff, isn't he?" There was a hint of a Louisiana accent.

Hood did not like calls that opened with questions. Especially when the voice was not familiar. But the caller had access to Hood's direct line. That meant he had high-level security clearance.

"Who is this?" Hood asked.

"Bruce Perry," the caller replied.

Perry was the special assistant to the president for democratic elections. It was a post that monitored voting activities in foreign nations. Hood could not understand what Special Assistant Perry wanted with Herbert, or why he used that form of Herbert's name. He did a GovScan search of Perry's name. Those personnel files were little more than glorified resumes. They were available to officials who might need assistance in highly specialized areas.

"I don't believe we've ever met," Hood said, stalling while he scanned Perry's file.

"You may be correct," Perry replied. "But then, it isn't my job to keep track of peoples' activities."

Oh, Hood thought. It's going to be one of those kinds of conversations. And then he spotted the reason Perry was calling. The sixty-four-year-old was a former ambassador to Australia.

"All right, Mr. Perry," Hood said. "Yes, Bob Herbert is an officer here. You already knew that, or you wouldn't be asking. What's on your mind?"

"Mr. Herbert has just been to see Mr. Jervis Darling at his home," Perry said. "You've heard of Jervis Darling?"

"I read newspapers," Hood said. Darling had obviously wasted no time getting his puppets onstage.

"Newspapers do not tell the full story of this man," Perry said.

"I'm sure of that."

"Mr. Darling has put a substantial portion of his personal fortune into countless unheralded charitable activities, which include democratic advocacy programs," Perry went on. "He is a rock in that region, and Mr. Herbert had no right to call on him."

"In a democratic society we have all kinds of rights," Hood pointed out.

"The right to privacy is chief among those," Perry replied.

"Fair enough. I assume Mr. Darling called you. Did he say what Mr. Herbert was after?"

"He said there was some nonsense about misplaced nuclear waste," Perry said, chuckling. "The idea that Mr. Darling would know anything about that is completely ridiculous."

"Why?"

"Because, for one thing, Mr. Darling believes absolutely in the rule of law," Perry said. He was no longer chuckling. "He also happens to be an extremely moral man."

"Who may have had his wife murdered," Hood said.

"Oh, Jesus Lord!" Perry said angrily. "Don't tell me you believe that old smear!"

"Who would smear him?"

"He spent a great deal of money to find out," Perry replied. "He discovered that the Singaporeans had spread that rumor to try to keep him from investing in liberal political causes over there. God, Hood. I was with Mr. Darling when he received word of his wife's death. He was despondent. So was his daughter. The idea that he would have arranged it is frankly insulting."

"Mr. Perry, I'm not going to dispute what you've told me," Hood said. "Our information differs from yours."

"Then you are misinformed."

"You know something, Mr. Perry? I really hope so. I hope we're wrong about everything from the homicide to the nuclear trafficking. I hope you're doing this from deep conviction and a sense of honor."

"Mr. Hood, in the presence of God himself I would swear to everything I told you."

"You didn't tell me anything other than your beliefs, not fact," Hood pointed out. "But I thank you for sharing your perspective."

"You're welcome, Mr. Hood. I'd like to share this as well," Perry went on. "If Mr. Darling is bothered again without overwhelming evidence, charges will be brought against Mr. Herbert and yourself. Legal charges in Australia, ethics violations here."

"Bruce, you should have quit before you trotted out the threats," Hood said. "They always stink of guilt."

"I wouldn't know," Perry told him. "You collect intelligence, Mr. Hood. This is intelligence. Use it."

Perry hung up. Hood shook his head slowly as he replaced the phone. He jabbed the Delete key on his computer. That removed Perry's file from his monitor. That was the problem with government dossiers. They gave you plenty of data but not the man.

Of course, what intelligence services called 2DD — two-dimensional data, facts without body or analysis — was only one of the problems with government service. What bothered Hood more was how officials had to battle the enemies without while fighting the enemies within even harder. The longer he stayed in public service, the more Hood became convinced that leaders were a burden to society. If they all went away, the people would do just fine. A leader could not be ambitious and still serve others. People were fortunate when the ambitions of a leader, like Lincoln, like Franklin Roosevelt, happened to coincide with the general good.

Hood took a moment to check with Mary Timm. She was already on her second sweep of the region. If someone was on the run, she was willing to bet that they were not using the GPS.

"Which could mean what?" Hood asked.

"That the subject is either very near to land and can sail by eye or compass. Or else they have no intention of going near land, in which case a navigational aid would be extraneous," Mary replied.

That was not what Hood wanted to hear. He relayed the information to Herbert. The intelligence chief was unfazed.

"Any intelligence is useful," Herbert replied. "Even if it eliminates possibilities."

And there again was the paradox of government. Within just a few minutes, Hood's enemy and his ally had both said virtually the same thing.

And they were both right.