Nelson Demille - Wild fire

“Edward Wolffer. You know who he is?”

“Yeah, he played center field for the-”

“He’s the deputy secretary of defense. Very hawkish guy, pushing for the war in Iraq. Very close to the president. He’s on TV a lot.”

“That’s probably the guy who someone here recognized.”

“Yes, and here’s another one on the same flight-Paul Dunn. He’s a presidential adviser-”

“On matters of national security, and a member of the National Security Council.”

“Right. How did you know that?”

“It’s always a Jeopardy question.”

“Why do you like to play stupid?”

“It’s a good cover for when I really am stupid.” I said, “So, Wolffer and Dunn arrived Saturday, plus two other guys, according to Betty, and they all got into the van to the Custer Hill Club.”

Kate looked again at the passenger manifest for the 11:00 A.M. Saturday flight from Boston and said, “There were nine other men on that flight, but none of these other names ring a bell, so we don’t know who these other two guys were who got into the van.”

“Right.” I continued flipping through the passenger lists. “Wolffer and Dunn left on the first Boston flight yesterday, connecting to Washington.”

She nodded thoughtfully, then asked me, “Does this mean anything?”

“Well, on the surface, it doesn’t mean much. A lot of rich and powerful guys got together on a three-day weekend at a mountain lodge owned by an oil billionaire. It’s like one of those Renaissance weekends, or a gathering of the Carlyle Group, where some people, and the media, speculate that all kinds of devious things are going on-oil-price rigging, financial and political deals, conspiracies to take over the planet, and that kind of thing. But sometimes, it’s just a bunch of rich guys getting together to relax, play cards, talk about women, and tell dirty jokes.”

Kate thought about that. “Sometimes it is,” she said. “But someone in the Justice Department ordered a surveillance of this gathering.”

“ That’s the point.”

She went on, “And it’s not every day that the Justice Department wants to keep an eye on the deputy secretary of defense, a presidential adviser, and who knows who else in this club.”

I commented, “This is getting good.” I scanned the passenger manifests. “We need to do a background check of everyone who arrived here by commercial aircraft in the last few days, and see what, if any, connection they have to one another-then try to find out what Harry was supposed to find out on his surveillance: who went from here to the Custer Hill Club.”

Kate replied, “I don’t think that’s our job. Tom didn’t mention that.”

“It’s good to show initiative. Tom appreciates that, and by the way, fuck Tom.”

The waitress came by, and one of us ordered a double bacon cheeseburger, and the other ordered a Cobb salad, whatever the hell that is.

My beeper went off, and I looked at the number. Not surprisingly, it was Tom Walsh. “I’ll call him.”

“No, I’ll call him,” Kate said.

“Let me handle this. He likes and respects me.” I dialed Tom’s cell phone, and he answered. I asked, “Did you page me?”

“Yes, I paged you, and Kate, and I called you both. You were supposed to call me when you landed.”

“We just got in. Headwinds.”

“According to the pilot, you’ve been there almost an hour.”

“There was a long line at the car rental. More important, what’s the word on Harry?”

“Nothing yet.” He briefed me on nothing, then said, “I want you to drive to the regional headquarters of the state police in Ray Brook. That’s a few miles from Saranac Lake. Make contact with a Major Hank Schaeffer, commander of B Troop, and coordinate the search operation with him. You can offer your services and expertise, such as they are, and offer to participate in the search.”

“Okay. That’s it?”

“For now. Meanwhile, we’re going through channels to see if we can get a few hundred troops from Fort Drum to participate in the search. That will speed it up considerably. Tell Schaeffer we’re still working on that.”

“Will do.”

“Call me when you’ve spoken to Schaeffer.”

“Will do.”

“Okay, is Kate there?”

“She’s in the ladies’ room.”

“Tell her to call me.”

“Will do.”

“What are you doing now?”

“Waiting for a double bacon cheeseburger.”

“Okay… don’t hang around the airport too long, and don’t ask anyone there any questions.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just get over to the state trooper headquarters ASAP. And don’t even think about going to the Custer-”

“I understand.”

“All right. Nothing further.”

I hung up, and Kate asked me, “What did he say?”

I sipped my coffee and went back to the printouts. “He wants us to go to the Custer Hill Club and see if Bain Madox is there, and talk to him, and see who else is there.”

“He said that?”

“Not in so many words.”

“Did he want me to call him?”

“At your convenience.”

She was getting a little impatient with me and said, “John, what the fuck did he-?”

“Here’s the deal. Nothing new on Harry, Walsh wants us to make contact with the state police, help in the search, and not snoop around the airport.” I noted, “Too late for that.”

“I didn’t hear anything about going to the Custer Hill Club.”

“Why don’t you go see the state police? I’ll go to the Custer Hill Club.”

She didn’t reply.

I said to her, “Kate, we were sent here as a pro forma response to the disappearance of one of our guys from the Task Force. We’re here to get the bad news, or the good news, if and when Harry is found. This is just protocol. You know that. The question for you is, Do you want to take a reactive, or pro-active, role here?”

“You have a way of putting things… let me think about it.”

“Do that.”

The food came, and the double bacon cheeseburger looked like it could give you a heart attack if you touched it. The Freedom Fries had a little American flag stuck in them.

Kate asked, “Do you want some of this salad?”

“I found a slug in a salad once.”

“Thanks.”

Before I could get my minimum daily requirement of fat, the guy from Enterprise came into the café and handed Kate a stack of photostated car-rental contracts. He said to her, “I get off-duty at four, if you want me to show you around. Maybe we can have dinner. I put my cell-phone number on my card.”

“Thanks, Larry. I’ll call you later.”

He left.

I said, “You put him up to that.”

“What are you talking about?”

I didn’t reply and called for the check so we could get moving as soon as Max showed up.

I took another bite of my cheeseburger, and Max came into the café, spotted us, and came over. She said to Kate, “Here’s all the contracts from Thursday to tomorrow, including returns. There’s, like, twenty-six. It’s a big weekend.”

Kate replied, “Thank you. And please don’t mention this to anyone.”

“Sure.” She looked at me and said, “You’re a lucky guy to have a wife like this.”

My mouth was full of burger, and I grunted.

Max left, and I swallowed. “You put her up to that.”

“ What are you talking about?”

I shoved some Freedom Fries in my mouth, stood, and said, “Okay, let’s go.”

Kate put the papers in her briefcase, I put twenty bucks on the table, and we left the café. I said, “If you’re not coming with me, go to Hertz and get yourself another car. The state police headquarters is in someplace called Ray Brook, not far from here. Ask for Major Schaeffer. I’ll call you later.”