The Hadrian Memorandum

98

6:50 A.M.

Marten woke with a start. Anne was still asleep, looking as if she hadn’t moved since she’d put her head down. Immediately he got up, pulled on the shirt and jeans he’d been wearing since Berlin, then found his jacket and took the dark blue throwaway cell phone from it. Another glance at Anne and he picked up the Glock from the bedside table and left, carefully closing the door behind him.

He was crossing the front room on his way to the kitchen when something made him stop and go to the window. It was just dawn, and the morning light was beginning to expose the shadows in the park across from them. A truck rumbled past on the street below; seconds later someone went by on a bicycle. The park itself was empty.

Or was it?

He could just make out the figure of a man on the far side of the benches where he and Anne had been yesterday afternoon. He was alone and standing back under a tree. Marten’s first thought was that he was watching the building. Immediately he wondered if either he or Anne had somehow been seen and followed back to the apartment, if whoever had done it had reported in and been ordered to wait and watch and follow in the event either of them left.

Ordinarily he would have dismissed it, telling himself that maybe he was overdoing it. That there was no reason to be alarmed by a lone man standing in a public park, a lone man who might well be waiting to meet someone, say, for a ride to work. But he had to remember that only hours earlier he had been all but face-to-face with Conor White and Patrice. Had to remember that Anne had been very quickly traced to the Hotel Chiado Lisboa. Had to remember the men in the blue Jaguar. Meaning White or someone else, quite possibly the CIA, would have immediately put assets on the streets looking for them.

One last glance at the man in the park and he left the window and went into the kitchen.

It was now almost seven o’clock in Lisbon, approaching two in the morning in Washington, and President Harris would be sleeping. It made no difference; it was imperative he know what was going on. Moreover, Marten needed him to get in touch with Joe Ryder right then. Whoever the man in the park was or wasn’t, White knew they were in the city and probably somewhere in the vicinity of the hotel. The minute Ryder landed he would be under heavy surveillance. Wherever he went someone would be right on top of him. And if White’s people were already here watching the apartment, there was no way he and Anne and Ryder could go anywhere without being followed. Moreover, if they were going to meet with Ryder they would be physically carrying the evidence with them-Anne’s copy of the memorandum and the photographs in her purse, the camera’s memory card tucked unseen into his jeans. If they were caught, all of it would be gone in an instant.

He lifted the phone, started to punch in the number of the president’s throwaway cell phone, then stopped. If White’s men or CIA assets were watching the apartment, they might very well have sophisticated listening devices that would pick up any phone conversation coming into or going out of the building. Not only would his conversation be heard, it wouldn’t take long for them to analyze the voices and realize who he was talking to. Still, the president needed to know what was happening, and he needed to know now. What he had to do was assume the people outside were indeed White’s men or CIA and take the chance they had only recently come on-scene and as yet hadn’t received the kind of complex electronic gear they would need to monitor calls.

He punched in the number of the president’s phone. It rang once, then twice, then-

“What is it? Something wrong? Have you spoken with Ryder?” the president said quickly, almost as if he’d been waiting for the call.

“The CIA,” Marten said. “Anne Tidrow hacked into a secure Web site and pulled up a memo from the deputy director. He made a deal with Striker Oil and Hadrian to provide backing for the insurrection in Equatorial Guinea as a way to help gain favor with the rebels and drive out President Tiombe, chiefly as a means to secure Striker’s leases for years to come.” Marten took the note he’d scribbled earlier from his pocket. “I wrote down part of it, what I could remember, something like-‘a plan to secure unimpeded drilling access and petroleum rights for the U.S. in Equatorial Guinea,’ ” he read. “ ‘This initiative is part of a bigger national obligation to achieve energy independence from other world sources of crude oil.’ ”

“Are you absolutely certain what you have is authentic?”

“Anne photographed the entire memorandum off a hotel room TV screen. It’s film, 35 mm negative. The quality may not be great, but it’s all there, every page of it. You worried that the attorney general would have little to work with. Add the memorandum to the photographs and Anne’s testimony and you’ll have enough for a major firestorm.

“But that’s putting tomorrow ahead of today. I haven’t yet heard from Joe Ryder and have no way to reach him, but I have to talk to him, and soon. Conor White and his soldiers know we’re here. They saw me and came after me. I had to kill two of them. White is very well connected. He may be CIA himself or closely tied to them, I don’t know. There’s a very good chance they know where we are and are watching the building right now.”

“They are watching the building.”

Marten looked up. Anne stood in the doorway, her hair twisted up in a bun, her robe pulled around her.

“Two men. Across the street in the park.”

“Two?” Marten said. “A few minutes ago there was only one.”

“Well, now there are two.” Anne was calm and very matter-of-fact. “Ryder needs to know where to meet us before he lands. We won’t be able to communicate once he enters the Lisbon cell phone grid. They’ll have every one of his lines monitored. If he tries to use a landline, they’ll have that covered, too.”

Marten turned back to the phone. “Could you hear that?”

“I assume it was Ms. Tidrow.”

“Hopefully Ryder’s left Rome and is en route here now. See if you can reach him and ask him to delay his landing until I can find a place and time where we can meet unseen. The best would be somewhere at the airport itself.”

“That won’t work. His itinerary has been laid out by the embassy. It means he’s got to at least start to play the game and go to his hotel. After that he can try to make his move. But you can’t just meet. You’ve got to get back to the airport, onto his plane, and out of Lisbon. We have to have Ms. Tidrow and every piece of evidence you’ve got in our custody and safely back in the States. Where you land and where she goes after that, I’ll take care of. Your job is to get you, her, and Ryder onto his plane and airborne as fast as possible.”

“We can’t do this alone. I’m going to need Raisa Amaro’s help. You said to trust her completely. I want to hear it from you again, just to be sure I didn’t get it wrong. Right now everything is going to depend on her.”

“You can trust her with anything, cousin. As I said, she is very smart and very gifted, and also very efficient. She and I go back a long way.”

“I’ll talk to her and get back to you, hopefully with a time and meeting place for Ryder. Then you can pass that information on to him before he lands. If Raisa can’t help, we’ll just have to figure out something else. With luck you’ll hear from me soon.” With that Marten clicked off.

“The old girlfriend,” Anne said with the faint hint of a smile.

“Yes.” Immediately he brushed past her and went to the front window to stand beside it and look out. The man he had seen earlier had moved closer to the edge of the park. Another was a little farther back standing by a decorative fountain, his eyes on the building. Several seconds passed, and he reached up and touched his ear as if he were listening to something. Abruptly he put his hand to his mouth.

“He’s talking to someone.” Anne moved in beside Marten. “If there are two there, there will be others watching the back.”

“You don’t think they’re police,” he said flatly.

“No, I don’t think they’re police.”

Marten crossed to the room phone, picked it up, and dialed 11, the extension Raisa had given him. She answered on the second ring.

“Good morning, Mr. Marten.”

“Good morning, Raisa. I know it’s early, but I wonder if you could come up here right away. Yes, now. It’s important. Thank you.” Marten glanced at Anne and hung up.

7:15 A.M.