Алистер Маклин: Dead Halt

“What will happen to him?” Sabrina asked.

“He’s already been stripped of his rank and dismissed from the force. Who knows what will happen to him in the future? If the IRA ever got a whiff of what really happened they’ll have him killed without a moment’s hesitation. And that’s something he’ll have to live with for the rest of his life. I certainly wouldn’t want to be in his shoes.”

“And the good news?” Sabrina said.

“I met with one of the President’s senior aides earlier today. I explained our position to him and asked that he pass it on to the President. Well, I received a call from the President a short time ago. He assured me that UNACO will continue to operate, as before, under the auspices of the United Nations. So there’s no need for any of you to start preparing your CVs.”

“How did you manage to get him on our side, sir?” Whitlock asked in amazement.

“We came to an understanding. The President wanted the Scoby affair buried. I wanted an assurance that UNACO wouldn’t be sacrificed for what happened in Ireland. It means, however, that as far as we’re concerned, neither Scoby nor Tillman ever made a deal with the Colombians to import cocaine into this country. Nor did the meeting between Tillman and Navarro ever take place. Not even Melissa Scoby will know the truth. That’s how the President wants it and as no drugs ever changed hands on American soil, I’d say we got the better end of the deal.”

“What about Navarro and Varese? Are they just going to be allowed to walk?”

Philpott let Whitlock answer Graham’s question.

“Tony Varese’s made a deal with our old buddy, Frankie Grecco,” Whitlock told them. “The DEA have persuaded the DA to drop all charges against Varese in return for testifying against the Germino family. Carmine Germino and four of his senior lieutenants have already been taken into custody. The only stipulation Varese made was that he wouldn’t testify against Navarro. It’s a personal thing. But with the evidence against the others the DEA are confident that they can make a solid case against Navarro anyway. They’ll go down for a long time.”

“What about Tillman’s murder?” Graham asked.

“It’ll become another unsolved statistic on the books of the NYPD,” Philpott replied. “The videotape will be destroyed once Varese’s testified and been given a new identity under the Witness Protection Program.”

“There’s another interesting twist to the case,” Kolchinsky said. “We received a fax this morning from our contact in Medellin. Miguel Cabrera, Navarro’s inside man in the Medellin cartel, was killed in a car bomb explosion late last night. His murder was almost certainly ordered by Navarro to silence him after the deal went sour. It seems highly unlikely that his father could have found out that he was working for Navarro and had him killed.”

“If he had, he wouldn’t have been killed by a car bomb,” Graham said. “You can be sure Miguel Cabrera would have died a slow and agonizing death. The Colombians don’t take too kindly to informers.”

Philpott ran his finger down the list in front of him. “There is one last point which actually brings us back full circle to the arms which were found on Nantucket Island last week. Varese’s already told Grecco that the Germino family was one of the main suppliers of arms to the IRA. The cache of ArmaLite rifles on board the Ventura was destined for Sean Farrell. So Scotland Yard will now have ample evidence to nail Farrell on gun-running charges. Not that he’ll be much of a threat anymore. His liaison with Fiona Gallagher has not only destroyed his credibility but also his future within the IRA. Rumor has it he’ll go the same way as Brady.”

“That can’t be a bad thing, can it?” Whitlock said.

Philpott leafed through the papers in front of him until he found the one he wanted. “Now, about Fabio’s replacement.”

“I thought C.W. was being brought back into the field?” Graham said, looking at Whitlock.

“He is,” Philpott agreed. “But I’ll need a team leader when we come to rebuild Strike Force Seven. And C.W. is the perfect choice.”

“I thought I’d be back with Mike and Sabrina,” Whitlock said in surprise.

“In case you’ve forgotten, Mike was promoted to team leader when you came over on to the management side,” Philpott reminded him. “There can’t be two team leaders in one unit.”

“In that case I resign my leadership,” Graham said. “I know I speak for Sabrina when I say we want C.W. back in Strike Force Three. Let’s face it, UNACO are going to need to be at their sharpest over the next few months if we’re to regain our credibility amongst the other intelligence services around the world.”

“Mike’s right, sir,” Sabrina added. “It would be crazy to break up the team at a time like this. We need to consolidate our position amongst the intelligence community and we can’t do that by rebuilding another team. Recruit from the outside and, where necessary, promote from within. I can think of half a dozen operatives you could bring in to replace Dave Swain. And it would be good for morale.”

“Have you both quite finished lecturing me on the concepts of good management practice?” Philpott said, looking at each of them in turn.

They both nodded somberly.

“You obviously feel strongly about this. And, surprisingly enough, there is an element of common sense in what you both said. C.W., you’re reinstated as leader of Strike Force Three.”

“Thank you, sir,” Whitlock said, beaming.

“This doesn’t mean that you’ve pulled one over on the old fossil,” Philpott said, looking directly at Graham. “Just remember that.”

“Sir, you’re not suggesting that I call you–” Graham trailed off with a helpless shrug but when he turned to Sabrina for support she was looking down at her feet, struggling not to laugh.

“I’m sure it’s meant as a term of endearment,” Philpott said with a knowing smile. He closed the folder. “That’s all, thank you. You have the rest of the week off but just make sure you have your beepers with you at all times in case something should crop up. Mike, that includes taking it with you to the game tonight.”

“That goes without saying, sir,” Graham replied. “But how did you know I was going to the game?”

“The Giants against the Redskins at Meadowlands? I know you wouldn’t miss that for the world.”

“No, sir,” Graham said with a smile.

“But I still want those outstanding reports on my desk first thing in the morning. I can’t delay the Secretary-General any longer.”

“You’ll have them, sir,” Graham assured him. Philpott activated the sliding door then turned his attention to one of the folders on his desk.

Whitlock touched Graham’s arm as he turned to leave. “Frankie said to tell you he’d ring you sometime and arrange for the two of you to go to a game together.”

“Frankie’s always going to ring me and arrange for us to go to a game together,” Graham replied. “He never does though.”

“Why don’t you ring him today and see if he’s going to the game tonight?” Sabrina said to Graham. “Perhaps we can meet up with him there.”

“Why don’t you ring him?” Graham replied. “You’re a lot closer to him than I am.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she shot back.

“It’s no secret that you’ve been out with Frankie a few times since his divorce came through.”

“Sure I have. But it’s always been a purely platonic friendship.”

“That’s not what Frankie says,” Graham replied.

“Then Frankie’s a goddamn liar,” she snapped angrily. “And you can tell him that when you see him at the game tonight. It would be a shame to waste the spare ticket after all the trouble you’ve gone to to get it.”