Authors: Thomas Kirkwood
The idea had been to sell the whole undercover job as an SDECE assignment. If it hadn’t been, Michelet would not have agreed to it. Claussen was never supposed to know the identity of his employers. That lack of knowledge was to be their security.
Well, now Claussen knew. The names, the addresses and God knows what else about all three of them!
Delors, whom Michelet could hear coming into the room, had a lot of explaining to do. A lot.
Which he began to do almost immediately. “We have a problem, Georges. The problem is not Claussen, and it is not our risk of exposure. Though you might not understand this yet, we are in no way compromised by the letter.”
“Oh?”
“The reason we are not compromised is that we did not plan to kill Claussen. Now, we will simply take even better care of him. So Claussen’s knowing who you are, and who Albert is, is not, per se, a problem.”
Michelet spun around, his face twisted in fury. “Excuse me for my stupidity, Paul. What
is
the problem?”
“Albert is the problem. He’s refusing to pay. As you know, Claussen is to be paid at our next meeting. I’ve spoken with him, explained to him there were some logistic delays. He has agreed to accept a forty-eight hour postponement. But if we don’t have the money by then, there
will
be a problem.
“Therefore, I suggest that you and I have it out. You don’t look pleased. I can understand that. So let’s get on with it, then bury our differences. Because, Georges, if we do not, we won’t to be able to present a united front to Albert.
“And we must present a united front on Wednesday night. We must convince him that the letter changes nothing, which it does not
unless we allow it to
.
“If we fail, if Albert remains blockheaded in his refusal to pay, we shall be forced to go elsewhere for Claussen’s fee. You know what that means, Georges. We will have left a footprint in the sand, our first.
“We might get away with it, we might not, but we will be at risk. That must be avoided.”
“Really? Sit down.”
Michelet ground out his cigar, lit another, paced furiously, then stopped beneath a second portrait of his father.
“How could you have let this happen?” he shouted. “I want to know exactly how, Paul. I want an answer NOW.”
“I don’t know how he found out,” Delors said. “He’s a master of his trade, as you can deduce from his work in the States. I am perfectly willing to admit he bested me on the secrecy issue.
“The important thing, however, is that his little victory does not damage our position – as long as you and I are successful in convincing Albert.”
“You and I!” Michelet boomed. “What do you mean, you and I? You’d better work on convincing me before you speak of you and me in the same breath. You certainly haven’t done it yet.”
***
Frank Warner slept for the first night in weeks. He awoke to the smell of toast and coffee coming from the kitchen.
He got up, showered and went out on the terrace. Claire had set the table for breakfast and squeezed fresh orange juice. He gave her a quick kiss and sat down. He hadn’t realized how much he had missed her.
It was a glorious fall day, not hot, not humid. The sky had more blue in it than haze, and several of the big trees in his back yard were showing subtle changes of color.
He watched Claire move with graceful efficiency between the kitchen and the terrace. Toast, smoked salmon, butter – she even remembered the toast. When you grew up in Winnemucca, Nevada, you ate toast, not bagels.
She poured his coffee, sat down, put her elbows on the table and looked into his eyes. “Thanks,” she said.
“Thanks?”
“For being you. For not doing some defensive male ego thing because I left.”
He smiled. His face felt almost stiff. He realized it had been many days since he had smiled. “My male ego might react more conventionally the next time. I don’t blame you for going, but I was jealous as hell.”
“There won’t be a next time,” Claire said. She brushed her blonde hair from her forehead, and held a piece of toast and salmon in front of his lips. He took a bite.
“I haven’t changed,” he said. “Let’s be clear on that. It’s crazy around here, and it’s going to get worse.”
“I know, Frank. It’ll be miserable. I’ll want to be with you and you’ll be far away, totally absorbed in your work.”
“Why did you come back, Claire?”
She smiled that sexy, ironic smile he adored. “Why did I come back? Because I made a great discovery on this most recent voyage of the liberated woman.”
“Oh? Care to let me in on it?”
“They’re all jerks out there, Frank. The choice is, a lot of them or a little of you. I’ve made my choice.”
The phone rang, the emergency phone. “Goddammit, not now,” Warner groaned.
“Frank, the world needs you, I need you. I come second. I’ve accepted that. Go answer your telephone.”
***
It was Simmons. “Frank, we’ve had another one, right up there with the Atlanta disaster. Osaka, Japan, All Nippon Airways. A Seven Six on Instrument Landing came down a couple of miles short of the runway. It took out a shopping center.”
“Jesus. What are they doing flying 767s? Didn’t they get the packet of information on the FAA’s groundings here? What about the Air Worthiness Directives? Larsen assured me Boeing would fax them out last night.”
“They got everything, Frank, but the only foreign carrier to pull its planes off the line was SAS. They’ve been seeing these crashes differently overseas.”
“How can you see a crash differently? Stop speaking in tongues.”
Simmons remained calm. “I’m not talking about the technical people, Frank, I’m talking about the flying public abroad. They’ve been avoiding the U.S. carriers, yes, but not the Boeing aircraft operated by their own domestic airlines.
“I think it’s in their minds at some subliminal level that American carriers are the target of whatever’s going on. It was probably put there by those who stood to make windfall profits on international routes if our airlines were shunned.
“That’s the only positive aspect of this crash, Frank. At least that false perception abroad will change now. Whoever’s been making all the money off it will get rightly stiffed.”
“Dammit, Tim, I don’t want to ever hear you say anything like that again. There are no positive aspects to an airline disaster. Never. Period. Got it?”
“Sorry, Frank. I was using a metaphor – ”
“
Got it
?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Warner glanced at Claire, who was clearing the breakfast table. He saw his salmon and toast make its trip back to the kitchen with a single bite missing.
Welcome home, darling, he thought.
“Look, Tim, we can discuss peripheral items later. Give me the barest essentials on the crash. Are you at home?”
“Yes, just getting ready to leave.”
“Then come by and come pick me up. We’ll drive to National together. I know Nikasuno is going to want us in Osaka as soon as we can get there.”
“You’re wrong, Frank. I’ve just spoken with someone in their Air Transport Ministry. The tail broke off, just like it did in Atlanta. They’ve got the black box and CVR. They’re going to send them over with one of our military jets as soon as they run backups of the data so they have something to work with.”
“They don’t want us at the crash site?”
“Politics, Frank. Perceptions of American incompetence. You know how they feel about the riveting job on the tail of that JAL 747 that went down in ’eighty-five.”
“For Christ’s sake, we discovered the cause of that crash. It had slipped right by them.”
“But we, meaning we Americans, were also the ones they hold responsible for the faulty riveting job. Look, I don’t know the whole story. All I know is, they don’t want us over there yet. We simply can’t just show up without an invitation.”
“All right. Have they got any ideas on cause?”
“They’re convinced the Autopilot is at fault. They think you’ll agree when you examine the material.”
“They’re missing something, Tim, unless this crash is entirely unrelated to the others. Bendix manufactures the Autopilot.”
“I know, Frank. Bummer, huh?”
“I assume they’re wrong about the cause.”
“I don’t believe so, Frank. I heard some of the CVR tape over the phone. I’ve talked them into faxing us transcripts of the relevant portions. I think the Autopilot did fail.”
“Which breathes new life into the theory that we are dealing with random manufacturing defects rather than sabotage. Sloppy American workmanship and quality control. No wonder they don’t want us over there.”
“It could also be more broadly based sabotage.”
“That’s hard to believe.”
“It’s all hard to believe. What do you want me to do now?”
“Jesus,” Warner repeated. “You can’t win for losing. Set up a communication line with the Japanese Air Transport people working the crash site. See if you can find someone there who speaks the kind of English it doesn’t exhaust you to listen to. Call me back. I’ll be at home. If the line’s busy, keep trying.”
Claire came in with a grave look on her face. Warner shrugged his shoulders. “Osaka. Two thousand dead, maybe more. It sounds like the world is at war, doesn’t it?”
“Do you have to go?”
“Not immediately, but I have to make some confidential calls.”
“I understand.” She went out, softly closing the door.
It took a half hour to track down FBI Director Bill Daniels. “What about the Atlanta hypothesis, Bill?” Warner said. “Do you have answers yet? Did anyone happen to die around that time who might have been in a position to slip that bad engine mount onto the aircraft?”
“Delta hasn’t responded to our inquiries regarding their work force yet. You know how the South is. Some critical person in the chain of command has probably gone fishing. I’ll get on them right away.”
“What about Pratt and Whitney?”
“We’ll be starting a new investigation into the cause of Dave Melchior’s death. The state and local authorities seemed pleased to have us aboard, for a change. They’re understandably desperate to find something that will exonerate one of Connecticut’s largest employers and tax payers. You know, given the cancelations from Europe.”
“What cancelations?”
“Engines for new Airbusses. The European Consortium has decided to switch manufacturers, even though this will result in delays and lawsuits.”
“I see. This must be recent.”
“Yesterday. I’m told the decision will cripple Connecticut’s economy. I don’t think I was fully aware of the magnitude of this disaster.”
“You still aren’t. None of us are. We’re about to find out the hard way just how important the aircraft industry is to our country’s health. I assume you’ve been briefed on Osaka?”