Nelson Demille - The Lion's Game

"Right." I got back on the line and said to Mrs. Hambrecht, "Sorry. That was the Pentagon." Okay, Corey, give it a shot. I decided to be blunt and truthful and see what happened. I said to her, "Mrs. Hambrecht, let me be honest with you. I have your husband's personnel file in front of me. There is deleted information, and I'm having a difficult time accessing that information. I need to know what was deleted. I want to find out who killed your husband and why. Can you help me?"

There was a long silence, which I knew was not going to end. I said, "Please." I glanced up at Kate, who was nodding approvingly.

Finally, Mrs. Rose Hambrecht said to me, "My husband, along with General Waycliff, participated in a military operation. A bombing mission… Why don't you know this?"

All of a sudden I did know. What Gabe had said earlier was still in my head and when Rose Hambrecht said "bombing mission," it all came together like a key turning fifteen lock tumblers and opening a door. I said, "April fifteen, nineteen eighty-six."

"Yes. Do you see?"

"Yes, I do." I looked at Kate, who was sort of staring into space, thinking hard.

Mrs. Hambrecht further informed me, "There might even be a connection to that tragedy at Kennedy Airport, on the anniversary date, and what happened to the Waycliffs."

I took a deep breath and replied, "I'm not sure about that. But… tell me, has anyone else who was on that mission met with a misfortune?"

"There were dozens of men involved with that mission, and I can't account for all of them."

I thought a moment, then said, "But within your husband's unit?"

"If you mean his squadron, there were, I think, fifteen or sixteen aircraft in his squadron."

"And do you know if any of those men have met with a misfortune that could be viewed as suspicious?"

"I don't think so. I know that Steven Cox was killed in the Gulf, but I'm not certain about the others. The men in my husband's flight on that mission kept in touch, but I don't know about the rest of the squadron."

I was trying to remember Air Force terminology-flights, divisions, squadrons, air wings, and all that, but I was up in the air, so to speak. I said, "Forgive my ignorance, but how many aircraft and men are in a flight and a squadron?"

"It varies, according to the mission. But generally there are four or five aircraft in a flight, and perhaps twelve to eighteen in a squadron."

"I see… and how many aircraft were in your husband's flight on April fifteen, nineteen eighty-six?"

"Four."

"And these men… eight of them, correct?"

"Correct."

"These men…" I looked at Kate, who said into the telephone, "Mrs. Hambrecht, this is Kate Mayfield again. I'm wondering, too, about this connection. Why don't you tell us what you think so we can get quickly to the heart of the matter?"

Mrs. Hambrecht said, "I think I've said enough."

I didn't think so, and neither did Kate. She said, "Ma'am, we're trying to help solve your husband's murder. I know as a military wife that you're security-conscious, and so are we. I assure you, this is one time you can speak freely. Would you like us to come to Ann Arbor and speak to you in person?"

There was another silence, then Rose Hambrecht said,

"No."

We waited through yet another silence, then Mrs. Hambrecht said, "All right… the four aircraft in my husband's flight of F-111's had the mission to bomb a military compound outside of Tripoli. It was called Al Azziziyah. You may recall from the news at that time that one of the aircraft dropped a bomb on the home of Moammar Gadhafi. That was the Al Azziziyah compound. Gadhafi escaped, but his adopted daughter was killed, and his wife and two sons were injured… I'm only telling you what has been reported. You can draw any conclusions you wish."

I looked up at Kate, who was again banging away at her keyboard, looking at her video screen, and I hoped she could spell Al Azziziyah and Moammar Gadhafi, or whatever she needed to get into this. I said to Mrs. Hambrecht, "You may have come to some conclusions of your own."

She replied, "When my husband was murdered, I thought that perhaps it had something to do with his Libyan mission. But the Air Force positively assured me that all the names of those men involved with the bombing of Libya were top secret for all time and could never be accessed. I accepted this, but thought perhaps that some person involved with that mission had spoken too freely, or perhaps… I don't know. But I put it out of my mind… until yesterday, when I learned that the Waycliffs had been murdered. It could be a coincidence…"

It could be, but it wasn't. I said, "So, of those eight men who bombed… what's it called?"

Al Azziziyah. One died in the Gulf War, and my husband was murdered and so was Terry Waycliff."

I glanced again at Kate, who was printing out information. I asked Mrs. Hambrecht, "Who were the other five men on that mission? The Al Azziziyah mission?"

"I may not and will not tell you. Ever."

That was a pretty definite "no," so there wasn't any point in pursuing it. I did ask, however, "Can you at least tell me if those five men are alive?"

"They spoke on April fifteenth. Not all of them, but Terry called me afterward and said everyone he spoke to was well and sent their regards… except… one of them is very ill."

Kate and I made eye contact. Kate said into the phone, "Mrs. Hambrecht, can you give me a phone number where I can reach a member of the Waycliff family?"

She replied, "I suggest you call the Pentagon and ask for Terry's office. Someone there will be able to respond to your inquiries."

Kate said, "I'd rather speak to a family member."

"Then make that request through the Pentagon." Obviously, Mrs. Hambrecht had her protocols down pat and probably regretted this phone conversation. The military was, to say the least, clannish. But Mrs. Hambrecht apparently had some second thoughts on the subject of clan loyalty, and it had occurred to her that loyalty was supposed to be reciprocal. I had no doubt that the Air Force and other government agencies had juked and jived her, and she knew it-or suspected it. Sensing that I'd come as far as I was going to get, I said to her, "Thank you, ma'am, for your cooperation. Let me assure you that we're doing everything possible to bring your husband's killer to justice."

She replied, "I've already been assured of that. It's been almost three months since…"

I'm a softie sometimes, and I tend to stick my neck out in these situations, so I said, "I think we're close to an answer." Again, I glanced at Kate, and saw she was giving me a kind smile.

Mrs. Hambrecht took a deep breath, which I could hear, and I thought she was starting to lose it. She said, "I pray to God you're right. I… I miss him…"

I didn't reply, but I had to wonder who would miss me if I checked out.

She got herself under control and said, "They killed him with an ax."

"Yes… I'll keep in touch."

"Thank you."

I hung up.

Kate and I stayed silent a moment, then she said, "That poor woman."

Not to mention poor William Hambrecht being chopped up. But women have a different take on these things. I took a deep breath and quickly felt my tough-guy self again. I said, "Well, I guess we know what top secret stuff was deleted by executive order and DoD order. And it wasn't nuclear clearance, as someone told our esteemed boss."

I left Kate to draw the conclusion that perhaps Jack Koenig was telling us less than he knew.

Kate didn't or wouldn't get into that and said to me, "You did a good job."

"You, too." I asked her, "What did you find online?"

She handed me some sheets of printout. I flipped through them, noting that they were mostly New York Times and Washington Post stories, dated after the April 15,1986, raid.