Nelson Demille - Wild fire

“John, they can’t get credit-card information that fast… well… we can drive to Toronto tonight. There are lots of flights to New York and Newark from Toronto.”

“We are not crossing an international border.” I asked, “Okay, how’d you make out?”

She opened her notebook on the desk. “All right. First, as I said, I couldn’t reach Major Schaeffer. I called twice and left messages that I’d call him again. But I don’t think he wants to talk to me . You may have better luck.”

“I’ll call him later.” I lay on the couch and said, “There was no visible stakeout team at McCuen Pond Road.”

“Maybe they were concealed.”

“Maybe. But maybe Schaeffer pulled the plug on us.”

“But you went in anyway.”

“I carved a note on a birch tree.”

She continued, “I went through the flight manifests, airline reservation sheets, and car rental agreements. There were no startling names that popped out, except Paul Dunn and Edward Wolffer. And, of course, Mikhail Putyov.” She glanced at her notes and continued, “There were a few other names that sounded familiar, but maybe that’s because I’m reading into these names.” She added, “For instance, James Hawkins. Does that sound familiar to you? And don’t tell me he played third base for the Yankees.”

“Okay, he didn’t. Hawkins. Did you Google him?”

“I did. There is a James Hawkins on the Joint Chiefs of Staff. Air Force General. But I can’t tell if this is the same guy.”

“Well… if he went to the Custer Hill Club, it probably is. Did he rent a car?”

“No. He arrived from Boston on Saturday, at nine twenty-five A.M., and departed on the twelve forty-five P.M. flight back to Boston on Sunday, connecting to Washington.”

“Okay… if he went to Custer Hill, he was probably picked up by the van.” I added, “It’s interesting that Madox didn’t send his corporate jets for any of these VIPs. But I guess he and they probably didn’t want that direct connection between them. And that’s always a little suspicious.”

Kate replied, “Often, it’s just a matter of government officials not accepting costly gifts or favors from rich people. It’s an ethical issue.”

“That’s even more suspicious.” I said, “So, Madox may also have had a member of the Joint Chiefs of Staff at his gathering. Air Force general.”

“I wonder if these guests knew Harry was there, and what happened to him…”

I couldn’t imagine that people like that would be complicit in a murder. On the other hand, if the stakes were high enough, anything was possible. “What else on the airport info?”

“That’s it. As for the dozens of other names, we’ll need a team to work that list to see who these people are, and what, if any, connection any of them might have to Bain Madox.”

I said, “I hope our colleagues are already working on that. But we’ll never know the results.”

She didn’t comment on that and said instead, “Then, I went online and Googled Mr. Bain Madox, and there’s surprisingly little on him.”

“That’s not so surprising.”

“I guess not. Most of what I found were corporate facts-his position as CEO and principal shareholder of Global Oil Corporation. And not much on that. Also, very little in the way of biography, almost nothing personal-no mention of his ex-wife or children-only a half-dozen quotes from published sources, and not a single unpublished quote or comment from anyone.”

“Apparently, he’s able to get blogs and other third-party information deleted.”

“Apparently.” She glanced at her notes and went on, “The only thing vaguely interesting is that about fifty percent of his oil and gas holdings, and half his tanker fleet, are owned by unnamed interests in the Middle East.”

I thought about that, and what Madox had just said about his Iraqi oil-minister buddy during my chat with him. This meant that, like most Western oil executives, he had to kiss some ass in Sandland. But since Bain Madox did not seem like the ass-kissing type, he might be planning a way to eliminate his partners, forever and ever. Maybe that’s what this was about.

Kate continued, “I then went online and researched ELF.” She informed me, “There’s not much more than what John Nasseff told us, except that the Russians use their ELF system differently than we do.”

“Right. They have more letters in their alphabet.” I yawned and listened to my stomach growl.

“There’s another difference.” She looked at her notes again. “Listen to this-the U.S., as we discovered, sends ELF messages to the nuclear sub fleet as a bell ringer, but the Russians, during times of heightened tensions, send a continuous message to their nuclear submarines that, in effect, says, ‘All is well.’ When the positive message stops, that means there’s a new, urgent message on the way, and if that message doesn’t arrive within the time it would take for an ELF signal to reach the submarines, then the silence is taken to mean the ELF station has been destroyed, and the subs are then authorized to launch against their predesignated targets in the U.S., or China, or wherever.”

“Jeez, I hope they’re paying their electric bills on time.”

“Me, too.” Kate continued, “This is why our ELF receiver in Greenland was able to home in on the Russian ELF signal on the Kola Peninsula-because they were using this continuous ‘All is well’ signal during a period of heightened tensions, which, according to this article, we precipitated in order to get the Russians to switch to their continuous-message system, which, in turn, enabled us to find their ELF transmitter on the Kola Peninsula.”

“Wow. Aren’t we clever? And talk about nuclear brinkmanship. Aren’t we glad the Cold War is over?”

“Yes. But this got me thinking that Madox, who had once obtained American ELF codes, may have obtained the Russian ELF codes.” She informed me, “According to this article-written by a Swede, incidentally-Russian encryption software is not as sophisticated or impenetrable as ours, so it could be that Madox has changed his ELF frequency to the frequency used by the Russians, and he’s going to try to send false signals to the Russian sub fleet to nuke… China, or the Mideast, or whoever he doesn’t like these days.”

I thought about that. “I guess if the Russian codes are easier to penetrate than ours, that’s a possibility.” I added, “Same Custer Hill ELF transmitter, different nuclear submarines. Any more interesting ELF stuff?”

“Just that the Indians are looking to build an ELF station.”

I sat up on the couch and asked, “What the hell do they need that for? Launching tomahawks? They have the casinos, for God’s sake.”

“John, the India Indians.”

“Oh…”

“They’re developing a nuclear submarine fleet. So are the Chinese and the Pakistanis.”

“That sucks. Next, it’ll be the postal workers. Then we can kiss our asses good-bye.”

Kate informed me, “Actually, the world is becoming a far more dangerous place than it was during the Cold War when it was just us and them.”

“Right. What’s the median price of a house in Potsdam?”

She didn’t seem to recall and sat at the desk, lost in thought. Then she said, “I also discovered some… not good news.”

“Like, bad news?”

“Yes.”

“What?”

“I’m still trying to sort it out. Let’s finish the rest of what we need to discuss first so we have a context.”

“Is your mother coming to visit?”

“This is not a joke.”

“All right. What’s next?”

“Mikhail Putyov.”