Jack Ryan 7 - The Sum of All Fears (77 page)

“What is this?” Cathy asked. “I don't have any appointments today.”

“Ma'am, I need a few minutes of your time.”

“Who are you? Are you going to ask me about Jack?”

“Ma'am, my name is
Clark
.” He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out the card-sized CIA photo-pass, attached as most were, to a metal chain that went around his neck. “There may be some things you need to know about.”

Cathy's eyes went hard almost at once, the anger taking over from the hurt. “I know,” she said. “I've heard it all.”

“No, ma'am, I think that you do not know. This isn't a good place to talk. May I invite you to lunch?”

“Around here? The streets aren't all that—”

“Safe?”
Clark
smiled to show just how absurd her observation was.

For the first time, Caroline Ryan applied a professional eye to her visitor. He was about Jack's height, but bulkier. Whereas she had once found her husband's face manly,
Clark
's was rugged. His hands looked large and powerful, and his body language proclaimed that he could deal with anything. More impressive was his demeanor. The man could have intimidated almost anyone, she realized, but he was going out of his way to appear gentlemanly, and succeeding, like the ballplayers who sometimes came here to see the kids. Teddy bear was what she thought. Not because he was, but because he wanted to be.

“There's a place right down
Monument Street
.”

“Fine.”
Clark
turned and lifted her overcoat from the clothes tree. He held it almost daintily for her to put it on. Chavez joined them outside. He was much smaller than
Clark
, but more overtly dangerous, like a gang kid who was trying to smooth off his edges. Chavez, she saw, took the lead as they walked outside, preceding them up the sidewalk in a way that was almost comical. The streets here were not what she thought safe—at least not for a woman walking alone, though that was more a problem at night than during the day—but Chavez moved like a man in battle. That, she thought, was interesting. They found the small restaurant quickly, and
Clark
steered everyone into a corner booth. Both the men had their backs to the wall so that they could stare outward at any incoming threat. Both had their coats unbuttoned, though they both seemed outwardly relaxed.

“Who exactly are you?” she asked. The whole affair was like something from a bad movie.

“I'm your husband's driver,” John replied. “I'm a field officer, paramilitary type. I've been with the agency for almost twenty years.”

“You're not supposed to tell people stuff like that.”

Clark
just shook his head. “Ma'am, we haven't even started breaking laws yet. Now I'm mainly a Security and Protective Officer, an SPO. Ding Chavez here is also an SPO.”

“Hello, Doctor Ryan. My real name is Domingo.” He held out his hand. “I work with your husband also. John and I drive him around and protect him on trips and stuff.”

“You're both carrying guns?”

Ding almost looked embarrassed. “Yes, ma'am.”

With that, the adventurous part of the meeting ended, Cathy thought. Two obviously very tough men were trying to charm her. They had even succeeded. But that didn't change her problem. She was about to say something, but
Clark
started off first.

“Ma'am, there seems to be a problem between you and your husband. I don't know what it is—I think I know some of it—but I do know that it's hurting the guy. That's bad for the Agency.”

“Gentlemen, I appreciate your concern, but this is a private matter.”

“Yes, ma'am,”
Clark
responded in his eerily polite voice. He reached into his pocket and pulled out Xerox copies of the Holtzman articles. “Is this the problem?”

“That's not any of your . . .” Her mouth clamped shut.

“I thought so. Ma'am, none of this is true. I mean, the sexual impropriety part. That's definitely not true. Your husband hardly goes anywhere without one of us. Because of where he works and who he is, he has to sign out for every place he goes to—like a doctor on call, okay? If you want, I can get you copies of his itinerary for as far back as you want.”

“That can't be legal.”

“No, it probably isn't,”
Clark
agreed. “So?”

She so wanted to believe, Cathy thought, but she couldn't, and it was best to tell them why. “Look, your loyalty to Jack is very impressive—but I know, okay? I went through the financial records, and I know about that Zimmer woman, and I know about the kid!”

“What exactly do you know?”

“I know that Jack was there for the delivery. I know about the money, and how he tried to hide it from me and everybody else. I know that he's being investigated by the government.”

“What do you mean?”

“A government investigator was here at
Hopkins
! I know that!”

“Dr. Ryan, there is no such investigation at CIA, and no investigation at the FBI, either. That's a fact.”

“Then who was here?”

“I'm afraid I don't know that,”
Clark
answered. It wasn't entirely true, but
Clark
figured this lie was not pertinent to the matter at hand.

“Look, I know about Carol Zimmer,” she said again.

“What do you know?”
Clark
repeated quietly. The response he got surprised him.

The answer almost came out as a scream. “Jack's playing around, and she's the one! And there's a kid involved, and Jack is spending so much time with her that he doesn't have any time for me and he can't even—” She stopped, at the point of sobbing.

Clark
waited for her to settle down. His eyes didn't leave her face for an instant, and he saw it all as clearly as though it had been printed on a page. Ding merely looked embarrassed. He wasn't old enough to understand.

“Will you hear me through?”

“Sure, why not? It's over, the only reason I haven't just walked out is the kids. So go ahead, make your pitch. Tell me that he still loves me and all that. He doesn't have the guts to talk about it to me himself, but I'm sure he had something to do with this,” she concluded bitterly.

“First of all, he does not know we are here. If he finds out, I'll probably lose my job, but that's no big thing. I have my retirement. Besides, I'm about to break bigger rules than that one. Where do I begin?”
Clark
paused before going on.

"Carol Zimmer is a widow. Her husband was Chief Master Sergeant Buck Zimmer, U.S. Air Force. He died in the line of duty. As a matter of fact, he died in your husband's arms. I know. I was there. Buck took five rounds in the chest. Both lungs. It took him five or six minutes to die. He left behind seven children—eight, if you count the one his wife was carrying. Buck didn't know about that one when he died. Carol was waiting to surprise him.

“Sergeant Zimmer was the crew chief on an Air Force special-operations helicopter. We took that aircraft into a foreign country to rescue a group of U.S. Army soldiers who were conducting a covert mission.”

“I was one of 'em, ma'am,” Ding announced, somewhat to
Clark
's displeasure. “I wouldn't be here if the doc hadn't put it out on the line.”

The soldiers had been deliberately cut off from support from this end of the operation—"

“Who?”

“He's dead now,”
Clark
answered in a way that left no doubt at all. “Your husband uncovered what was an illegal operation. He and Dan Murray of the FBI set up the rescue mission. It was a bad one, really tough. We were very lucky to get it done. I'm surprised you haven't noticed something—nightmares, maybe?”

“He doesn't sleep well—well, yes, sometimes he . . .”

“Dr. Ryan missed having a bullet take his head off by . . . oh, maybe two inches, maybe three. We had to rescue a squad of soldiers off a hilltop, and they were under attack. Jack worked one machinegun. Buck Zimmer had another one. Buck took hits as we lifted out, went down hard. Jack and I tried to help him, but I don't even think you Hopkins guys could have done very much. It wasn't real pretty. He died—”
Clark
stopped for a moment, and Cathy could see that he wasn't faking the pain. "He was talking about his kids. Worried about 'em, like any man would be. Your husband held Zimmer in his arms and promised him that he would look after them, that he'd see they were all educated, that he would take care of the family. Ma'am, I've been in this business a long time, back before you learned how to drive a car, okay? I've never seen anything better than what Jack did.

“After we got back, Jack did what he promised. I mean, of course. I'm not surprised he kept it a secret from you. There are aspects to the total operation that I do not know myself. But this much I do know: that man gives his word, he keeps it. I helped. We got the family moved up here from
Florida
. He set them up a little business. One of the kids is already in college, at
Georgetown
, and the second-oldest is already accepted into MIT. I forgot to tell you, Carol Zimmer—well, Carol ain't her name. She was born in
Laos
. Zimmer got her out when everything went to hell there, married her, and they started punching out kids like movie tickets. Anyway, she's a typical Asian mom. She thinks education is a gift from God Himself, and those kids really study hard. They all think your husband's a saint. We stop in to see them at least once a week, every week.”

“I want to believe you,” Cathy said. “What about the baby?”

“You mean when it was born? Yeah, we were both there. My wife was the coach for the delivery—Jack didn't think it was right for him to be in the room, and I've never been there for one. It kind of scares me,”
Clark
admitted. “So we waited in the usual place with all the other wimps. If you want, I can introduce you to the Zimmer family. You can also confirm the story through Dan Murray at the FBI, if you think that is necessary.”

“Won't that get you into trouble?” Cathy knew at once that she could trust
Murray
. He was straight-laced on moral issues; it came from being a cop.

“I will definitely lose my job. I suppose they could prosecute me—technically, I have just committed a federal felony—but I doubt it would go that far. Ding would lose his job, too, because he hasn't had the sense to keep his mouth shut like I told him to.”

“Shit,” Ding commented, then looked embarrassed. “Excuse me, ma'am. John, this is a matter of honor. 'Cept for the Doc, I'd be fertilizer on some Colombian hilltop. I owe him my life. That counts more than a job, 'mano.”

Clark
handed over an index card. “These are the dates of the operation. You may remember that when Admiral Greer died, Jack didn't make the funeral.”

“Yes! Bob Ritter called me, and—”

“That's when it was. You can verify all of this with Mr. Murray.”

“God!” It all hit her at once.

“Yes, ma'am. All the garbage in these articles. It's all a lie.”

“Who's doing it?”

"I don't know, but I am going to find out. Doctor, I've been watching your guy come apart for the past six months. I've seen it happen before, in combat—I spent quite some time in Vietnam—but this has been worse. That Vatican Treaty, the way the
Middle East
is settling down. Jack had a big part in that, but he isn't getting any credit at all. Exactly what part he played, I'm not sure. He's pretty good at keeping secrets. That's part of his problem. He keeps it all inside. You do that too much and it's like cancer, like acid or something. It eats you up. It's eating him up, and this crap in the papers has made it a lot worse.

“All I can say, doc, is this: I don't know a better man than your husband, and I've been around the block a few times. He's put it on the line more than the times you know about, but there's people around who don't like him very much, and those people are trying to get him in a way that he can't deal with. It's typical, dirty, underhanded crap, but Jack's not the kind of guy who can deal with that. He plays by the rules, you see. So, it's eating him up.”

Cathy was weeping now.
Clark
handed her a handkerchief.

“I figured you should know. If you think it's necessary, I want you to check it out as much as you think you have to. That's your decision, and I want you to make the call without worrying about me or Ding or anybody else, okay? I'll take you to see Carol Zimmer and the kids. If I lose my job—the hell with it. I've been in the business too damned long anyway.”

“Christmas presents?”

“For the Zimmer kids? Yeah, I helped wrap them. Your husband can't wrap presents worth a damn, but I suppose you know that. I even delivered some of my own. My two are too grown for fun presents, and they're great kids, the Zimmers. It's nice being an uncle,” John added, with a genuine smile.

“All a lie?”

“I don't know about the financial stuff, just the other things. And they tried to get at him through you, judging by what you just said.”

The tears stopped at that moment. Cathy wiped her eyes and looked up. “You're right. You said you don't know who's doing this?”

“I'm planning to find out,”
Clark
promised her. Her demeanor had changed completely. This was some broad.

“I want you to let me know. And I want to meet the Zimmer family.”

“When do you get off work?”

“I have to make a few phone calls and some notes—say an hour?”

“I can squeeze that in, but I may have to leave early. They have a 7-Eleven about ten miles from your place.”

“I know it's close, but not exactly where.”

“You can follow me down.”

“Let's go.” Cathy led them out, or tried to. Chavez beat her out the door, and held the point all the way back to the hospital. He and Clark decided to stay outside and get some air, then spotted two youths sitting on their car.

It was strange, John Clark thought as he crossed the street. At the beginning Caroline Ryan had been the angry one, angry and betrayed. He'd been the voice of understanding. Now she was feeling much better—though worse in another way—but he had absorbed all of her anger. It was a little too much to bear, and there in front of him was an outlet for it.

“Off the car, punk!”

“Christ, John!” Ding said behind him.

“Says who!” the youth said, hardly turning to see the man approaching. He got his head around just in time to see the hand grasp his shoulder. Then the world rotated and the brick wall of a building approached his face very rapidly. Fortunately, his boom-box absorbed most of the impact, which, however, had a negative effect on the boom-box.