Chapter 62
The phone call that would never come arrived just after noon Saturday, as Chelsea was walking the Clayburn family schnauzer around the Bethesda neighborhood where she had lived for the first eighteen years of her life.
She had just nodded to a neighbor without speaking, which was easier these days because most of them really didn’t want to talk.
It was Agent Lon Dyer, and she at first thought No.
She was not in the mood for another useless report that was being passed along only out of someone’s tired version of protocol.
But Lon had been a steady and trusted voice from the beginning, and it was a Saturday, a bit unusual. So she said, “Hello.”
Then she screamed and dropped the phone.
By the time Dyer arrived fifty minutes later, Fritz and Linzy were there, along with Sam. They had been crying for almost an hour. The first bottle of champagne was empty.
Dyer hugged them all and felt like crying himself.
Details were scarce but trickling in. It had been a rescue operation, one planned by the “team” for months, and things had gone almost perfectly.
He didn’t mention the CIA or Rae Claire, or the fourth hostage, and he certainly didn’t mention the ransom.
Paul, Alan, and Jason had been located and rescued somewhere in the Algerian desert.
They were now being flown to the U.S. Naval Station in Sicily.
From his phone, he showed a video of Paul, no longer a friar but looking quite fit in army garb and black boots.
In fact, he looked absolutely perfect, though a bit on the thin side.
The whiskers were gone and he rubbed his head as he promised Chelsea the hair would grow back.
He told her he loved her at least five times.
When the video was over, Dyer handed Chelsea the phone and she called her husband.
—
The first medical exams were quick; indeed, they took no longer than the hot showers.
Not surprisingly, the three asked for steak and potatoes.
Beer was not permitted in the small clinic, but somehow a few bottles were smuggled in from the officers’ club.
The doctors warned them not to overeat, but they happily did so anyway.
All vitals were good, though they were about twenty pounds underweight.
“Where’s Peacock?” Paul asked, cutting into a thick sirloin.
“In the clinic,” a captain replied. “They’ll keep him there overnight. He’s still a bit on the cold side. Trying to heat him up.”
“When do we get a debrief?” Alan asked.
The captain shook his head and said, “Too far above my pay grade, fellas. I’m just the hotel manager.”
“Great. How about another round of, what is this, Peroni?”
“It’s an Italian beer. Seems to be going down well.”
After dinner, they called their wives again and talked forever.
Not far away, in the clinic, Stuart was fairly roasting in a hospital bed lined with heat pads. He promised the nurse he felt fine, all chills were long gone, and so on. She had just agreed to dial things down when Nyall Leblanc entered the room with a smile. The nurse left and he closed the door.
Stuart said, “You got here in a hurry.”
“Yeah, I was in Paris the day after you disappeared. Nice work, Nash. The boys are safe.”
“Where’s Rae Claire?”
“If only we knew. No word since Wednesday.”
“What’s today?”
“Saturday. You went to bed Wednesday night in Paris and disappeared. We’re assuming they gassed the room, dragged you next door, then smuggled you out. You were gone before we knew there was a problem.”
“I wish I could remember. Pretty slick, huh?”
“It’s quite an embarrassment, which will only be compounded if something happens to her. If she’s okay, then the entire operation will be hailed as a success and maybe nobody gets the axe. How are you feeling?”
“I’m okay.”
“I don’t see any bruises. They slap you around?”
“Not much. Did the waterboard thing, though.”
“And how was that?”
“Once is enough.”
“You wanna talk or you wanna sleep? The doctors are okay with both.”
“I want to talk about Rae Claire. What’s happening right now?”
“Oh, the usual full-blown search but nothing so far. There’s something you should know.”
“There are a lot missing blanks, Nyall. When do I get the full story?”
“Let’s find her first and we’ll have a long happy debrief. We paid the money, big money.”
“Ransom?”
“Yep. They were threatening to kill her at noon today, London time. The White House finally caved and wrote the check. The gang got the money and then abandoned the camp. Disappeared, vanished.”
“How much, if I may ask?”
“Two hundred million.”
“Wow, I’ve never felt so valuable.”
“We have reason to be cautiously optimistic. So far no blood has been shed. They have the cash and we have our people, all but her. What’s the benefit of doing something stupid and living on the run for the next thirty years?”
Nash closed his eyes and tried to breathe. He opened them and said, “I’m dying here. Please call the nurse before this bed catches on fire.”
The nurse was preoccupied and the bed continued to bake.
Leblanc said, “The other three will leave for Germany in the morning, Ramstein Air Base, our main military hospital. They’ll get checked out, spend a few days, go through a debrief, see their wives and families, and so on.
You don’t need to see them. They’ll eventually be told about the operation and your role, but it’s still classified.
They don’t know your name and have no idea how you got there.
Maybe one day, say a year from now, you guys can get together and have a few laughs. I’m sure they’ll wanna say thanks.”
“Rae Claire is the one to thank. It’s her operation.”
“I know.”
—
At daybreak Sunday morning, the small VW rental rolled to a stop on a narrow street in the village of Gardanne, a half hour northeast of Marseille. The passenger in the front seat sat low under a large straw hat, her eyes blinded by blackened sunglasses.
When the engine died, the driver said softly, “Do as you’re told and you will be free in a matter of minutes.” Native French, probably from the north. Brittany was her best guess.
“When I say so, you will open the door, step outside, remove the glasses, and start walking straight ahead. Do not look back. Take the first street to your right, then walk until you see the police station. There is a bench outside. Sit there for five minutes, then go inside. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Here is your purse. Everything is there. Passport, wallet, cash, keys. Even his condoms.”
She swallowed hard and tried to catch her breath.
“On three, open the door. Do not look back.”
“Okay.” She clutched her purse, counted with him, then opened the door, removed the glasses, and began walking.