Stuart Woods - Iron Orchid

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From Publishers Weekly
Having ditched her Orchid Beach, Fla., police chief post, returning supersleuth Holly Barker opts for a CIA career in Woods's by-the-numbers thriller, the fourth in the Barker series (Blood Orchid). Barely through basic training at a highly regimented CIA "training farm," Barker's class is suddenly enlisted to track down calculating killer (and opera buff) Teddy Fay (first seen in Woods's Capital Crimes). An ex-CIA agent himself, Fay uses insider information to continue assassinating international political figures who also happen to be enemies of the U.S. Barker stakes out the Metropolitan Opera House, and narrowly misses Teddy in disguise in several contrived set pieces. The narrative accelerates from a somewhat sluggish first half when CIA operatives' solid deliberation moves Barker ever closer to nabbing the elusive Fay-who, by the way, lives mere blocks away from her. But Fay dupes the CIA again, with the help of a Santa Claus costume, and assassinates a Saudi prince before vanishing. Woods's latest lacks the urgent plotting and bracing thrills needed to make it truly memorable, and though Barker is a tough, formidable protagonist, the question remains why she, after absconding with over $5.5 million in untraceable drug money, bothers to clock in at all. Only Barker's dog, Daisy the Doberman, knows for sure.

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“It just is,” she said. She turned out her light, fluffed her pillow and turned away from him.

“I suppose this terrible news means you’re not in the mood for…”

“I didn’t say that,” she said, turning back to him.

Late the following morning, Kate convened a meeting in her conference room. Attending were Hugh English, the DDO; his deputy, Irene Foster; Ian Thrush, the DDI; his deputy, George Weaver and, by television conference hookup from New York, Lance Cabot,

“All right, Lance,” Kate said, “give us the whole thing.”

“Good morning, Director,” Lance said.

“Good morning from all of us.”

“One of my officers, a new one named Holly Barker, while looking for Teddy Fay at the opera a week ago yesterday, found him, quite by accident. He walked up to her and invited her to join him for La Boheme. He was heavily disguised, and she didn’t recognize him, and she thought it might be a good idea to look around inside, so she accepted. He told her his name was Hyman Baum and that he was the retired owner of a dress business in the garment district.

“After the opera, he invited her to join him. She declined, saying she would be traveling, and they said good night. Part of his disguise was a cane, ostensibly because he had had a recent knee replacement, but after they parted, Holly saw him sprinting for a cab. On the way home, she realized that she might have spent the evening with Teddy. Her suspicions were reinforced by the fact that our investigation determined that Mr. Baum did not exist.

“He told her that he had the same seats every week; accordingly, last night we staked out the Met in large numbers, pulling people off other assignments. Teddy had exchanged his tickets three times with other operagoers, leading us on a wild goose chase around the hall. While we were chasing Teddy at the Met, he was dispatching Mr. Said, at the apartment of his girlfriend. We questioned her, and she said all she saw was a man in a ski mask with a small gun. She phoned the police, and one of our consultants, Lieutenant Dino Bacchetti, of the NYPD, called me. That’s it.”

“There are two things that concern me here,” Kate said. “One: if Teddy didn’t show and went to the trouble of exchanging his tickets three times, he must have made Ms. Barker as one of us. How?”

“Holly introduced herself, using her own name, but that would have meant nothing to Teddy, and she cannot think of any other reason he would know who she was. Neither can I or anybody else who has addressed the issue.”

“Two,” Kate said. “Said has only been in the country for four months, and we have only been interested in him for that long. Since Teddy retired from the Agency more than a year ago, how would he have been aware of Said’s existence, let alone his presence in New York?”

“I think that is an issue best addressed at your end of this hookup,” Lance said.

Irene Foster half-raised a hand. “That information had to have come from inside,” she said, glad to be the one to point it out.

“Or from someone on the New York task force,” Kate said. “Lance, question everyone there who knew about Said. While you’re at it, I want you to wring out Ms. Barker and figure out how he made her.”

“Will do,” Lance said.

“Hugh,” she said, addressing her DDO, “I want your people to make a list of everyone in this building who knew we were surveilling Omar Said and put every one of them through the ringer- polygraphs, the works.”

“Yes, Kate,” English said. He turned to his deputy. “Irene, this will be your baby; get on it as soon as we’re out of this meeting.”

“Certainly, Hugh,” Irene replied.

“Director,” Lance said from New York.

“Yes, Lance?”

“Holly Barker is with me, and she may have figured out how she was made.” Lance introduced an attractive woman to the group. “Tell them, please.”

“Good morning,” Holly said. “A couple of days before I first met Teddy at the opera, my FBI partner and I checked out a record store called Aria, on the West Side, at Lance’s suggestion. My partner went in alone, and when he identified himself as an FBI agent, the clerk behind the counter refused to talk to him and told him to get out. The day after I met Teddy, I went back to the shop, looked around and bought a CD. I mentioned to the clerk that I had seen La Boheme the night before and that I wanted the recording, and she suggested a version.”

“Did you identify yourself, Holly?” Kate asked.

“No, ma’am, not in light of my partner’s experience. I thought I would go back after establishing myself as a customer and see what I could learn. My point is, at the opera I gave Teddy absolutely no reason to think I was Agency, and the only other point of contact could have been at the record shop.”

“Do you think he might have been in the shop?”

“No, I was the only customer, but I think it’s quite possible that he saw me either enter or leave the shop, or both.”

“But why would seeing you there make him think you were Agency? You were just a woman buying a copy of La Boheme , for all he knew.”

“Unless he followed me from the shop,” Holly said. “From there, I walked to Sixth Avenue and took a cab back to the Barn. If he followed me, he would know where the building is.”

“But Holly, we’ve only been in the building for a couple of weeks; it’s brand new. How could he associate it with us?”

“Maybe he saw someone he knew at the Agency going in or out,” Holly said.

“Or,” Lance said, interrupting, “maybe he researched the address on the Agency’s computers.”

“But we’ve locked him out of the computers,” Irene Foster said. “We’ve changed all the log-in codes.”

“Then I think that puts the ball back in your court at Langley,” Lance said. “Maybe the codes should be changed again.”

“Thank you, Lance,” Kate said, “and thank you, too, Holly; you’ve been a great help.”

“Thank you, Director,” Holly said.

Kate turned back to the group. “Call Technical Services and change the codes again. Irene, there are still a lot of people down there who knew Teddy. That would seem a logical place to start your internal investigation.”

“Yes, Director,” Irene said.

THIRTY-THREE

LANCE CABOT AND KERRY SMITH were in a meeting in the twelfth-floor conference room when a call came in. Lance picked up the phone. “Yes?”

“Director Robert Kinney for you or Agent Smith,” the operator said.

Lance pressed the speaker button. “Director, this is Lance Cabot; I’m here with Agent Smith.”

“Afternoon,” Kerry said. “Something has come up. Kerry, you remember the hangar at Manassas Airport where Teddy Fay had his workshop.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes, sir,” Kerry replied.

“This morning we had a call from the airport manager down there. Apparently, Fay had a second hangar, where he kept the Cessna he blew up, and the manager found it on a routine check this morning. There’s a lot of stuff in the hangar, but the man says he didn’t touch anything. I’d like you-and Lance, if he likes-to take a couple of people, fly down there and process the scene, see what you can come up with.”

“All right,” Kerry said. “I’m on my way. Will you send a tech team from there to meet us? I suppose it will be about… three hours, before I can get there.”

“Director,” Lance said, “if it’s all right, I’m going to let Kerry handle this; I have a lot on my plate here.”

“Yeah, I heard about the Said thing,” Kinney said. “Send whomever you like.”

“Thank you, sir.” Lance punched off the call. “Kerry, why don’t you take Holly and Ty with you?”

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