David Morrell - Assumed Identity

“But what does Drummond want from the person he’s blackmailing?” Buchanan said. “Obviously not money. Drummond’s so rich, it’s hard to imagine that money alone would motivate him, especially the comparatively small amount that even a wealthy Mexican politician could give him. You’re a reporter. Do you recognize the man on the tape?”

Holly shook her head. “Mexico isn’t my specialty. I wouldn’t know one of its politicians from another.”

“But we can find out.” Buchanan stood.

“How?”

“We’re going back to Miami.” His voice was like flint against steel. “Then we’re flying to Mexico City.”

“This is Buttercup.” Clutching the phone, speaking urgently, the husky-voiced woman used the code name she’d been assigned.

On the other end of the line, a man’s sleep-thickened voice was tinged with annoyance. “What time is. .? Lord, it’s almost five in the morning. I got to bed only an hour ago.”

“I’m sorry. This was the first chance I had to call.”

“They’ve been looking everywhere for you.” The man had said his name was Alan, although he was probably using a pseudonym.

“That’s what I was afraid of. Is it safe to talk?”

“This call is being relayed from another phone,” Alan said. “The two phones are linked by scramblers. Why are you calling me? I told you it had to be an emergency.”

“I’m with Leprechaun.” The woman used the code name they’d agreed upon.

“Yes. I assumed.”

“You have to understand. He’s been telling the truth. What he’s doing has no involvement with. .” She tactfully didn’t mention Scotch and Soda.

“I assumed that as well. I believe he genuinely wants out. It’s his superiors who need reassurance.”

“But how? ”

“It’s a little late to ask that,” Alan said. “You’re part of the problem, after all. If you’d stayed away from him. .”

“But in Washington, he came to me. ”

“Same difference. You’re together. Guilt by association. His superiors believe that the two of you reneged on your bargain not to publicize their activities.”

“This has nothing to do with their activities. How do I get that across to. .? Should I phone them? Give me a number to call and. .”

“No,” Alan said sharply. “You’ll only make things worse. They can instantly trace any call you make. You’d be guiding them to you.”

“ Then what do I do? ”

“Sever ties with Leprechaun,” Alan said. “Go to ground. Wait until I tell you it’s safe to reappear.”

“But that could take months. ”

“True.”

“Damn it, I wish I’d never listened to you. When you approached me, I should have told you I wasn’t interested.”

“Ah, but you couldn’t,” Alan said. “The story was too good to ignore.”

“And now it might get me killed.”

“Not if you’re careful. Not if you stop making mistakes. There’s still a way to salvage things.”

“You son of a bitch,” she said. “You’re still thinking of the story.”

“I’m thinking of approaching another journalist who might be interested in telling your story. That would draw so much attention to you that they wouldn’t dare make a move to have you eliminated. I could bring you in. The two of us could still get what we want.”

“What you want. All I want is a normal life. Whatever that is. Lord, I’m not sure anymore.”

“You should have thought of that before you accepted my information,” Alan said. “But I repeat, if you’re careful, if you do what I tell you, I think I can eventually bring you in safely. For now, go to ground. Assume another identity.”

“And what about Leprechaun?”

Alan didn’t answer.

“I asked you, what about Leprechaun?” Holly said.

“Sometimes we can’t get everything we want.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I never wanted this to happen. Really. I’d hoped that. . He’s a soldier. He’d understand more than you. Sometimes there are. .”

“What?”

“Casualties.”

As Holly turned from staring at the phone in the booth down the lane from her room in the Key West motel, she saw a man’s shadow next to ferns in the predawn gray. In the numerous palm trees, birds began to chirp.

“I can’t talk anymore,” Holly said into the phone.

“Trouble?” Alan asked.

“Let’s just say I didn’t win the Publisher’s Clearing House Sweepstakes.”

Holly set down the phone.

Buchanan stepped out of the shadows. Despite a predawn breeze off the ocean, the air was humid.

“I thought you were taking back the wet-suit gear,” Holly said.

“I was. I paid the motel clerk to return it for me when the dive shop opens.” Buchanan stopped before her. “Who were you calling?”

She glanced away from him.

“At least you’re not trying to lie,” Buchanan said. “And at least you had brains enough not to make the call from the motel room, where there’d be a record on the bill. Not that it matters. The area’s so small that automatic tracing equipment will tell our hunters we’re in Key West.”

“No,” Holly said. “The number I called is private. Your people wouldn’t know about it.”

“So you say. In my business, I don’t take anything for granted unless I do it myself. All phones are suspect. It must have been really important for you to make the call.”

“I did it for us.”

“Oh?”

“I was trying to get us out of at least part of the mess we’re in,” Holly said.

“What part is that? Right now, it seems we’ve got plenty of mess to go around.”

Holly bit her lip. “Shouldn’t we talk about this when we’re back in our room?”

“And give you time to think up believable answers? No, I think we ought to keep talking.” Buchanan grasped her arm. “Exactly what part of the mess were you trying to get us out of?”

He guided her along the lane. The sky was less gray. The breeze was stronger. Birds scattered into the sky.

“All right, I’ve been wanting to tell you since we were in New York,” Holly said. “God, I’m so relieved to. . At the start, the reason I knew you were in Cancun, the reason I was able to get to Club Internacional ahead of time and watch you talk to those two. .” She almost said “drug distributors,” then looked around the shadowy lane and chose other language, wary of being too specific before she reached their room. “. . businessmen. The reason I. .”

“Someone in my unit set me up.” Buchanan opened the squeaky door to their room.

Holly spun in surprise. “You knew that?”

“It was the only explanation that made sense. Someone on the inside. No one else could have known where I’d be. The same person who told you about Yellow Fruit, Seaspray, the Intelligence Support Activity, and Scotch and Soda. That information could have come only from one of my superiors.”

Still grasping Holly’s arm, Buchanan led her into the room, turned on the light, closed the door, locked it, and guided her to the bed. He set her down firmly. “Who?” he asked.

Holly fidgeted.

“ Who? ”

“What will you do? Beat it out of me?”

“No.” Buchanan studied her. “Cut my losses.” He put his toilet kit into his travel bag, glanced around the room to make sure that he hadn’t forgotten anything, and walked toward the door. “There are buses that’ll take you back to Miami.”

“Wait.”

Buchanan kept walking.

“Wait. I don’t know his real name. I only know him as Alan.”

Buchanan paused. “Medium height. Chubby face. Short brown hair. Early forties.”