State Of The Union

“Are the calls from different people?” asked Harvath.

“No the same man,” said Leydicke.

“What did you tell him?”

“At first, I told him Alice didn’t live here anymore. Then when Gary dropped off his bags, the next time I got the call I said Alice had gone out and should be back soon.”

“Can you tell if the calls are local or long distance?”

“With the German phone system, you never know, but I don’t think they originated inside Berlin.”

“Why not?”

“There was a pause on the line.”

“You mean like a delay?”

“Yes, a delay.”

“So, there’s a delay and it’s the same person calling you. Did you recognize the voice? Could it be one of the team guys?”

“According to you,” answered Leydicke, “all but two of the team members are dead. So if Gary’s alive, who would that leave?”

“Frank Leighton,” said Harvath. “Is it his voice?”

Leydicke paused a moment as he tried to remember his old customer. “It could be, but it has been a very long time.”

“When does he usually call?”

“It varies.”

“There must be some pattern to it. He would know that somebody from his team would be here at a set time if he needed to call in.”

Leydicke smoothed down the few loose strands of hair on his bald pate and thought about it a moment. “It was strange to hear a call like that after all these years. At first, I thought it was one of the old guys making a joke, but when I tried to talk to him, he just hung up.”

“Do you always answer the phone here?”

“Of course I do. It’s my bar.”

“Okay. Now I need you to think. Is there any pattern to when the calls come in?”

“No,” said Leydicke. “Except-”

“Exceptwhat?” prompted Harvath.

“There seems to be one last one in the evening. He’ll call right as we’re about to close.”

“And what time do you normally close?”

“In about half an hour.”

“Good,” said Harvath. “That gives us just enough time to get ready.”

Chapter 23

Harvath knew it was Frank Leighton on the other end of the line when Leydicke responded to the caller’s inquiry with, “Alice? Alice? Who the fuck is Alice?” and then handed the phone to him. The next several seconds were going to be very tricky and though he had spent the last half hour trying to figure out what to say, Harvath needed to tread very carefully. For all intents and purposes, Leighton was quite literally a walking time bomb. The last thing the United States needed was for that bomb to go off before they were ready.

“Mr. Saritsa,” said Harvath, using Leighton’s alias, “I want you to listen to me very carefully. I have a message from Goaltender. He needs you to hold. I repeat. He needs you to hold.”

“Who is this?” said Frank Leighton after a brief pause.

“For the moment, you can call me Norseman,” replied Harvath using the call sign that he had acquired in the SEALs and which had followed him through the Secret Service. It had been given to him not so much because he looked like a Viking, though he was as ferocious a fighter, but rather because of a string of Scandinavian flight attendants he had dated during his SEAL days. “You need to listen me. The person who should have taken this call has gone missing. Goaltender sent me to find him. Until I do, you need to remain in place.”

“Why should I believe you?”

“Because there’s been a death in Alice’s family. In fact, most of the family has tragically passed on. Do you understand what I am saying? You’re the only one left who can run the family business. In memory of Alice, we’d like to put some people in place at some of her other offices, but it is going to take a little time to do that.”

“How much time do we have?”

“Not much.”

“If you are who you say you are, you’ll know how to execute the emergency contact plan. You’ve got twenty-four hours, or else I roll,” said Leighton, who then promptly hung up.

Harvath handed the phone back to Leydicke. He knew Leighton wouldn’t call back. As he sat back in his chair and massaged his temples, he wondered how the hell he was going to figure out what the emergency contact plan was between Gary and his operatives.

“So?” asked Herman. “How’d it go?”

“Just great. We’ve got a whole twenty-four hours.”

“And after that?”

“After that, is after that. Let’s focus on what’s in front of us now,” said Harvath, concerned that he may just have pushed Leighton beyond recall.

Herman was about to make a comment when his cell phone rang. “Ja?” he answered after flipping it open. He talked back and forth with someone for several moments. Looking at his watch he said, “in eine halbe Stunde,” then closed the phone and put it back in his pocket.

“What’s up?” asked Harvath.

“That was Sebastian.”

“Did he and Max get the footage?”

“Yes, we’re supposed to meet them in a half hour,” said Herman, standing up from his chair.

After gathering up Gary Lawlor’s suitcase and PDA, Scot and Herman followed Leydicke to the front of the bar where he unlocked the door, shook their hands and watched the two men disappear into a steadily falling snow.