LITMIR.BIZ

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away near the end of the hallway. The matronly receptionist looked up from her computer as Roe entered.

      ‘May I help you?’ the woman asked politely.

      ‘Yes. My name is Linda Ford and I’m with the FBI.’ Roe offered her credentials for the woman’s inspection. The forged identity card was flawless and had been expensive, but worth the price. ‘I’m here to see Mr Gerty.’

      ‘I’ll see if he can be disturbed,’ the woman said with a hint of nervousness.

      Lou Gerty ran a small one-man operation and appeared to make a decent living at his work. Several matted and framed photographs of D.C. monuments and historic sites graced the walls of the reception area. The lower-right-hand corner of each carried the signature L. Gerty; the man did more than take compromising pictures of adulterous spouses. If Gerty’s eye for composition was as good with the dirty pictures as it was with these, he had a good shot at a grant from the National Endowment for the Arts.

      ‘Agent Ford,’ a baritone voice called out pleasantly, ‘I’m Lou Gerty. How can I help you?’

      Gerty was middle-aged, somewhere around fifty. He was a few inches taller than Roe, but he carried almost twice her weight on a once-muscled body that had long ago declined. All that remained of his Afro was a fringe of gray that ran from ear to ear; the top of his head was bare and leathery.

      ‘I need to discuss a case of yours in private.’

      ‘By all means. Please step into my office.’

      Gerty closed the door after she’d entered, then seated himself behind his desk.

      ‘Which case are we talking about?’

      ‘It’s a divorce case from about a year ago. You were hired by Barbara Cole to investigate her husband. In the course of your work, you uncovered something about Michael Cole that was so damaging that he gave his wife everything. I need to know what you discovered about Michael Cole.’

      ‘Frankly, Agent Ford, I’d like to help you, but I’m afraid I can’t.My work for Mrs Cole was a delicate family matter. The Coles have settled their differences and the issue is behind them both.’

      ‘Under normal circumstances, I’d be inclined to agree with you. Unfortunately, the situation I am dealing with is not in the realm of normal circumstances.’ Roe feigned a touch of irritation, then composed herself. ‘Are you aware of who employs Michael Cole?’

      A sour look crossed Gerty’s face, his lips pursing tightly beneath his mustache. ‘Yeah, I know who he works for. The CIA.’

      ‘That’s where my concern lies, Mr Gerty. I investigate cases of espionage committed within the United States.’

      ‘Is Cole spying for someone?’

      ‘He’s one of several suspects in an ongoing investigation.’

      ‘Damn, I hate traitors.’ Gerty’s disgust was genuine. ‘I thought they cleaned the last of those rotten bastards out a couple years ago.’

      ‘Unfortunately, no,which brings us back to my request. I need to know what you know about Michael Cole.’

      Gerty considered her request carefully, and Roe could almost hear the debate raging in his head.

      ‘I am sorry,Agent Ford, but I can’t help you. The court ordered that everything I found out about Cole be turned over to him as part of the settlement.’

      ‘I appreciate your position, but let me try to explain mine to you.’ Roe took a slow deep breath and steeled herself. ‘I am investigating a matter of national security. You are in possession of information that I believe is vital to that investigation. If you do not provide this information to me, you will be guilty of obstruction of justice. In connection with an espionage investigation, such a charge would require jail time in a federal penitentiary. I will have your cooperation in this matter; it’s your choice whether your cooperation is granted voluntarily or under the threat of legal action.With one phone call, I can have a search warrant delivered here in twenty minutes. So, are you sure that you turned over everything from your investigation?’

      Gerty swallowed hard, his poker face cracking. ‘But what if Cole’s not the one you’re after? The things I found out about him weren’t criminal, just something that neither of the Coles wants aired in public.’

      ‘I assure you that ifMichael Cole is cleared as a suspect, whatever I learn about his private life will never see the light of day.’

      ‘This goes against what I feel to be right, but I don’t see that I have much choice.’

      Gerty unlocked a high five-drawer file cabinet and pulled out a thick file.

      ‘Mrs Cole’s attorney asked me to stash this away for her, as an insurance policy should her client ever need it.’

      Roe opened the file and skimmed over the investigation report. Gerty’s prose was clear, precise, and unemotional; it read almost like a legal document, except for the clinical descriptions of the sexual acts Gerty had witnessed. Cole’s secret finally sank in when she reached the exhibits marked A through H. The photographs depicted Michael Cole engaged in a variety of homosexual acts.

      ‘So that’s what she had on him,’ she mumbled to herself, ignoring Gerty’s presence.

      ‘Yes, she nailed him to the wall. The bastard didn’t even use a condom. Good Lord, with AIDS and who knows what else running around out there, I figure this guy just took double portions of dumb when they passed out brains.’

      Roe closed the file and softened her stern, authoritative stance with Gerty. ‘Thank you. This is an immense help to our investigation.’

      Roe slipped the file into her briefcase.

      ‘Say, aren’t you supposed to leave a receipt for that?’

      Whatever consideration Roe had shown Gerty a moment earlier was now replaced with a withering stare. ‘Only if I was officially here, which I am not. This conversation never took place, Mr Gerty.’

      Gerty understood the implied threat in Roe’s tone and nodded in agreement.

      ‘You said it yourself, Mr Gerty: According to the terms of the Coles’ divorce settlement, all materials from your investigation were to be turned over to Michael Cole. Officially, this file doesn’t exist, so there’s nothing for me to sign for. Good day, Mr Gerty.’

      Roe’s visit left the grizzled private investigator seated behind his desk, speechless.

       8

      NEAR THE SOUTHERN COAST OF HAITI

       December 6

      Kilkenny checked his dive watch and punched a button on the global positioning satellite receiver mounted into the curved console of the swimmer delivery vehicle. He matched up the longitude/latitude figure from the GPS with the nautical map that he’d memorized over the last few weeks, then verified that they were on target, on schedule.

      After launching from the submarine USS Columbia, Kilkenny led the SEALs on a six-mile submerged approach to Haiti’s southern coast. When they reached the ditch point, the squad shut down the swimmer delivery vehicles and set them on the seafloor half a mile from shore and under enough water that only a major storm could disturb them.

      The squad NCO, Chief Max Gates, unhooked the roll of camouflage netting from his SDV and began unfolding it. The other SEALs each grabbed an edge and pulled the fabric over the two SDVs and staked the corners into the seafloor. After a quick check on equipment and air, Kilkenny led the squad on a half-mile swim to the beach.

      Once ashore, the SEALs stripped off their scuba gear, wrapped the equipment in weatherproof bags, and buried it. Kilkenny recorded the location of the buried gear from

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