“Trudy Wellington has disappeared,” Luke said.
Something else appeared in Don’s eyes, and this time it stayed there. If it lingered, it meant Don wanted him to see it. Luke couldn’t tell if it was an emotion, a memory, or some piece of knowledge. He was good at reading people, but Don was an old spy. His mind and his heart were closed books.
“You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you, Don?”
Don shrugged, offered half a smile. “The Trudy I knew was very smart. She had her ear to the ground. If I had to guess, she heard a distant rumble that disturbed her, and she ran away before it could come closer.”
“Did you speak to her?”
Don didn’t answer.
“Don, there’s no sense thinking you’re going to stonewall me about anything. I can make a phone call and find out who you’ve talked to, who’s written to you, and what was in the letter. You have no privacy. Did you talk to Trudy or didn’t you?”
“I did, yes.”
“And what did you tell her?” Luke said.
“I told her that her life was in danger.”
“Based on what?”
Don looked at the ceiling for a moment. “Luke, you know what you know, and that’s good. You also don’t know what you don’t know. If you have any limitations, that’s certainly one of them. What you don’t know in this case, because you don’t involve yourself in politics, is there’s been a quiet war going on behind the scenes for the past six months. The attack at Mount Weather? A lot of high-profile people died that night. And a lot of low-profile people have died since then. I’d say at least as many who died in the original attack. Trudy wasn’t involved in the plot against Thomas Hayes, but not everyone believes that. There are people out there seeking retribution.”
“So she ran on your say-so?”
“I think so, yes.”
“Do you know where she is?”
Don shrugged. “I wouldn’t tell you if I did. One day, if she wants you to know where she is, I’m sure she’ll be the first to tell you.”
Luke had the urge to ask if she was okay, but he controlled himself. He wasn’t going to give Don that kind of power – it would be just what the old man wanted. Instead, another pause stretched out between them. The two men sat in the tiny space, staring into each other’s eyes. Eventually Don broke the silence.
“So who are you working for, if not the SRT? I have trouble picturing Luke Stone out of work for very long.”
Luke shrugged. “I guess you’d say I’m a freelancer, but I only have one client. I work directly for the President, on the rare occasions she calls me. Like she did earlier today, asking me to come out here and see you.”
Don raised an eyebrow. “A freelancer? Do they still pay you your salary and benefits?”
“They gave me a raise,” Luke said. “As a matter of fact, I think they gave me your old salary.”
“Government waste,” Don said, taking on his agency administrator persona and shaking his head. “But it suits you. You never were the Monday to Friday type.”
Luke didn’t answer. From this angle, he could see the view that the window afforded. Nothing – the cinderblock wall of another wing of the building, with a sliver of dark sky visible above.
It was an insidious design. The facility was located in the Rocky Mountains – when Luke arrived tonight, beyond the guard towers and the concrete and the razor wire, he was struck by the vista of the tall peaks that surrounded this place. The air was cold and the mountains were lightly salted with early snow. Even at night, you might say the location was beautiful.
The prisoners would never see it. Luke would bet five dollars that every cell in this prison enjoyed the same vista as every other – a blank wall.
“So what do you want, Don? Susan told me you’ve got a piece of intelligence you’re eager to share, but only with me. I’ve got a lot going on in my life at this moment, but I came out here because that’s my duty. I’m not sure how you obtained this intel, given your current circumstances…”
Don smiled. His eyes were completely divorced from whatever emotion his mouth tried to convey. They seemed like the eyes of an alien, lizard-like, with no empathy, no concern, not even any interest. The eyes of something that might eat you or run from you, but feel nothing while doing so.
“There are some very clever men in here,” he said. “You wouldn’t believe how intricate the communication system is among the prisoners. I’d love to describe it to you – I think you’d be fascinated – but I also don’t want to jeopardize it or put myself at risk. I will give you an example of what I’m talking about, though. Did you hear the man screaming before?”
“Yeah,” Luke said. “I didn’t catch what it was all about. The guards told me he had gone insane…” His voice trailed off.
Of course. The man had been saying something, if you had the ears to hear it.
“Right,” Don said. “The town crier. That’s what I call him. He’s not the only one, and that’s not the only method. Not even close.”
“So what do you have?” Luke said.
“There’s a plot,” Don said, his voice dropping to just above a whisper. “As you know, many of the men in here are affiliated with terrorist networks. They have their own ways of communicating. What I’ve heard is there’s a group in Belgium targeting the old Cold War nukes stored there. The warheads are lightly guarded on a Belgian NATO base. The security is a joke. The terrorists, I’m not sure who, are going to try to steal a warhead, or perhaps a missile, or more than one.”
Luke thought about it for a moment. “What good would that do? Without the nuclear codes the warheads aren’t even operational. They must be aware of that. It’s like risking your life to steal a giant paperweight.”
“I’d assume they have the codes,” Don said. “They either have access to the codes themselves, or they’ve discovered a way to generate them.”
Luke stared at him. “They have no way to launch a warhead. Without the delivery system, they’ll never generate the energy to detonate. This isn’t Bugs Bunny. It’s not like you can hit the thing with a hammer.”
Don shrugged. “Believe what you want to believe, Luke. All I’m telling you is what I heard.”
“Is that everything?” Luke said.
“It is.”
“So why are you choosing to share it? If someone found out you were passing secrets you picked up in here… well, my guess is that communicating isn’t the only thing these guys can do.”
Anger flashed across Don’s face now, like a brief summer squall on the high seas. Everything became dark for a moment, the storm appeared, then passed. He took a deep breath, apparently to calm himself.
“Why wouldn’t I share intelligence that I have? I’m concerned you’ve got me all wrong, Luke. I’m a patriot, as much as you are, if not more. I was risking my life for the United States before you were even born. I did what I did because I love my country, and not for any other reason. Not everyone agrees it was the right thing to do, and that’s why I’m in here. But please don’t question my loyalty, and don’t question my courage, either. There isn’t a man in this facility who frightens me, and that includes you.”
Luke was still skeptical. “And you don’t want anything in return for this?”
Don didn’t say anything for a long moment. He gestured at the messy desk. Then he smiled. There was no humor in it.
“I do want something. It’s not a lot to ask.” He paused, and looked around the tiny cell. “I don’t mind it in here, Luke. Some men really do go crazy – they’re the uneducated ones. They have no access to the life of the mind. But I do. To you, it seems like I’m locked away behind cinderblock walls, but to me, it’s almost like I’m on sabbatical. I was running for forty years straight, without a chance to take a break. These walls don’t imprison me. I’ve lived enough life for a dozen men, and all of it is still up here.”
He tapped himself on the forehead.
“I’m thinking a lot about the old times, the old missions. I’ve started working on my memoirs. I think it will make for fascinating reading one day.”
He stopped. A faraway look entered his eyes. He stared at the wall, but he was seeing something else. “Remember the time in Delta, when they sent us into the Congo to go after the warlord calling himself Prince Joseph? The one with all the child soldiers? Heaven’s Army.”