Tracks (42 page)

Sam meant to disclose
everything short of involving his main supporters.

“Sir, the Center is a
non-profit organization that survives on contributions from many organizations
and private people.”

“Name one organization,” the
American insisted.

“The
United Nations.”

“Are they aware of what you’re
up to?”

“For
the most part, yes.
  We regularly report most of our
activities to relevant people.  Otherwise we get no money.”

“Most activities you say, but
not all.”

“Sir, this is the first time
we ever ran into this much trouble.  No one in our organization ever came
close to being thrown in prison or having his life threatened.  In those
cases we choose to pursue we deal with legitimate organizations.  We are in
very high demand and we run quite an elaborate process to decide which cases we
can pursue. Once we choose, we inform all the relevant organizations and secure
funds to do the work.  Most of the work is classified for obvious
reasons.  We do not report our each and every move and, for the most part,
we manage on our own.  We have dealt with most police organizations in the
world, secret services, military, and governmental offices.”

“What about the organization
that sprung the American?” the Israeli Foreign Office representative queried,
eyeing Devlin.  “Are they legit?”

“In some circles they are,”
the British Military Attaché intervened.

There was awkward silence
around the room.  The British government had obviously made a choice to
protect Harley’s crew.

“If the Egyptians decide to
press, the UN might take it up,” the Israeli insisted.

“We’ve denied any involvement
until now, no reason we should admit anything later,” the British Military
Attaché stated.

Sam decided it was the right
time to disclose what Jack had learned and shift the balance of the discussion
to more practical terms.

“Ten years ago,” he began and
all eyes turned to him, “my wife was murdered and my son disappeared from our
house in Los Angeles…” 

It was the first time he had
ever revealed his personal tragedy to anyone outside his immediate family, his
colleagues at the Center and a few of the Center’s contributors.

Sam described in detail the
circumstances of the kidnapping and murder, his personal transformation, and
his long hard losing battle for abused children.

He then revealed what Black
Jack had discovered while in the Sharm hospital.  “It seems my wife and
son were victims of an outrageous plot to turn American babies into Arab spies
and who knows what else,” he concluded, surveying the shocked stares around the
table.    

The three diplomats were
shaking their heads. “How reliable you think this information is?” asked the
American Attaché, looking bewildered.

“Coming from a dying man, it
could be farfetched,” remarked the British diplomat.

“I admit it’s farfetched,” Sam
said.  “Had this been under any other circumstances, we would probably
have written it off as a hoax and not bothered with it.”

He took a deep breath and
continued.

“But since I am personally
involved and I’ve been pursuing this for over ten years, I will tell you it is
probably the only evidence I ever got that made any sense.  My son, Sammy
Jr., disappeared as if the ground swallowed him.  We have investigated
every possible angle and have come up empty every time.  As preposterous
and pretentious as this sounds, it is one angle we never even dreamed existed
which probably makes it the right one and as much as I dread what I find, this
is a matter of
  National
Security for all of us,
because if this is true, we could have Arab spies aiming to infiltrate, or
already have infiltrated, some very high places not only in the US but at its
allies as well.”

There was a knock on the
door.  A waitress came in to refresh everyone’s drinks.  All three
diplomats ordered scotch.

“Could Jack have been set up?”
Kessler asked after the waitress shut the door behind her.

“I doubt that,” Sam
answered.  “Jack never talked and what are the chances a dying man in an
Egyptian hospital could come up with a story like that?”

“The French mother Clair may
have talked and they could have made the connection through Ortega who did
divulge the fact you guys were looking for kidnapped children all over the
world.”

“Still, why would the
authorities in an Arab country which is part of the Arab League come up with a
setup that could blow up in their face?”

“To
cover up something even grander?”
  Kessler suggested.

“What could be grander than
this?”  Sam questioned, getting exasperated.

There was an awkward silence in
the room for a few seconds, everyone staring at Sam.

“We will need further
confirmation of such a plot if we’re to do anything about it,” the American
Attaché finally said, breaking the silence.

“Where do we start?” Sam
queried.

“This is a matter for counter-intelligence,
  FBI
, MI5, the Shabac!” the British Attaché
remarked worriedly.

“We can help,” Sam said. 
“We’ve got files of missing babies tracing back thirty years. We can draw some
profiles similar to my Sammy.”

“I’ll need to take this up
with my Government,” the Israeli Foreign Office representative declared.

“We all would,” the British
Attaché agreed. “Question is: do you guys stay involved?”

“I think it best,” Kessler
suggested.  “If this is true, those people have managed to avoid all your
ordinary under-cover organizations for years now.  Sam’s crew can operate
virtually undetected.”

“Our spooks won’t like it!”
the Israeli diplomat pitched in.

Everyone looked at
Kessler. 

“They may not like it but
they’ll cooperate if ordered to.  Spooks don’t decide policy. 
Besides, I’m sort of a spook and I’d work with these guys.”

“Well, nothing’s going to be
decided in this room,” the American Military Attaché
recapitulated.  “We’ll have to report back and see what happens.  For
my part I will recommend denying any involvement in the Jack Preston affair and
suggest we further investigate this plot of yours.  I am sorry to hear of
your personal situation and I hope we find your boy.”

The three diplomats got up in
unison. 

“I guess we are at even odds
regarding the Egyptians now,” the British Attaché remarked.  “My
recommendation will be the same as that of my colleague. Good day to you
all."

All three shook everyone’s
hands and hurried out.  The rest fell back on their seats in relief.

“Are we off the hook?” Devlin
asked.

“Not sure," Kessler
remarked, "you see, we’re all involved here. If one country is blamed or
takes responsibility, the rest will have to follow.  They can’t avoid
responsibility so they figure they might as well deny it all and save the embarrassment.”

“They can still punish us,”
Mai-Li spoke for the first time.

“If they do that, they once
again risk exposure.  Even if they punish us internally and word gets out,
the leaders will be accomplices and the country will be blamed.  It’s well
understood that such activity, in one form or another, had to be sanctioned by
our governments.  The ramifications of such activity could almost be
considered an act of war and none of us can afford to shake the delicate
balance achieved with Egypt.”

“So will they take action?”
Sam asked worriedly. 

“They might,” Kessler offered.
“They obviously can’t overlook the threat but it may be a long time before they
take practical steps to eliminate it.”

“How
long?”
  Sam pressed.

“Could be years,” Kessler
observed.  “They’ll need enough proof and a modus operandi before they can
act.  A sick man’s confession is not enough to go on, especially now that
the man is dead.”

“By that time Sammy could well
be
away from his family in some terrorist training
facility.”

There was silence in the
room.  Even Kessler was at a loss for words.  Finding his son was
Sam’s life endeavor.  For years he had held on to the belief Sammy was
alive while everyone around him remained skeptical.  Now as he had gotten
second wind, it seemed he might be barred from taking any action.  Their
supporters would not be as lenient the second time around. 

“I won’t just sit around and
wait,” Sam said to no one in particular.  “I need to act and I need to do
it quick.  I don’t need any more proof.  It’s my last chance. 
Hell, we’ve tried everything else.  If he’s there, alive, I’ll find him or
die trying.”

He looked around the
room.  They all stared at him.  No one doubted he meant what he
said.  It was now a question of who would join.

“Sam, if you fail, you realize
this could take down the Center and everything you and we have built,” Mai-Li
cautioned.

“I’ll have to distance myself
from the Center.  I’ll resign and you folks can continue.” 

“You’ll have no foundation,
money, or manpower to do it then,” Mai-Li persisted.

Sam looked at Devlin. 

“I can do it if you help me,”
he stated simply.

Devlin moved uneasily in his
seat.  He got up and drained a half glass of scotch left by one of the
diplomats.

“With Harley gone, we’re in as
much disarray as anyone,” Devlin reminded them.  “This is not a decision I
can make on my own but I’ll be willing to present it to the boys and see what
they say.”

“It’s all I ask,” Sam
said.  “I’ve got some money stashed away if you agree.”

“I doubt we’ll ever be able to
function in the same format we did with Harley,” Devlin speculated.  “It’s
going to be a decision each of us will have to make on his own.  I need to
give it some thought myself but I am definitely inclined to join you,” he
concluded, surprising the group.

“We should also have the right
to choose,” Mai-Li said. “I’d like to be in on this and I imagine Jack would,
too, when he gets better.”

“Mai-Li, I think you should
seriously consider this matter before you make a decision,” Sam advised. 
“I know you are extremely upset by Harley’s death.  We all
are,
which is why you should take some time to think it over
before you jump into this.  My considerations are obvious, but yours, I’m
not so sure. As for Jack, in his condition, he could be out of action for a very
long time.”

“Sam, I have a meeting in
Jerusalem,” Kessler interjected, straightening up from his seat.  “I have
to get going.”

“Where do you stand on all
this, David?”  Sam inquired, as the Israeli Intelligence man gulped what
was left of his now cold espresso, standing up.

“I, too, will give it some
thought,” Kessler offered.  “I make no promises but I’ll be in touch,” he
said as he shook everyone’s hands and quietly left the room.

The waitress came in again to
clean up.  They all got up to leave.  Devlin phoned reception asking
them to fetch his and Mai-Li’s trolleys from storage.  They were traveling
to Scotland together.  Mai-Li needed to gather her belongings left at the
camp.  She confided in Sam that mainly she needed to properly disentangle
herself from Ali and the men she had grown attached to.  Secretly she
needed to come to terms with the loss of Harley and thoughts of what might have
been.  Specifically she needed to go back to the tree where Harley had
kissed her…

They agreed to meet in New
York in a week’s time.  Sam was going to try and move Jack back home.

CHAPTER
THIRTY NINE

The woman looked
inconspicuous.  She walked along the Beirut pier, her head and face
covered, such that only her eyes were visible.  She looked like any of the
Muslim women hurrying about in the bustling Middle Eastern city just recovering
from another round of fighting as rival factions retreated each to his sector
and called a truce which no one expected to last more than a day or two, but
was actually lasting almost a year.

On close inspection, the woman
was not Arab though her black hair, dark eyes, dark eyelashes and brown skin
easily could have passed as such.  She could see the commercial airplanes
landing and departing from the airport as she headed south along the beach.