The Last Line by Anthony Shaffer Read Free Book Online Page B

we’ve recalled our last four case officers because we think Nicholas compromised them.”
    â€œHe fucking blew their covers,” Wentworth said, “and now we’re deaf, blind, and stupid down there.”
    Within the Central Intelligence Agency, an agent was a local person recruited to spy for the CIA. A case officer, on the other hand, was an American employed by the Agency to recruit and “run” agents from the local population.
    â€œSo you’re looking to rebuild your Mexican network,” Procario said.
    â€œYes,” Larson said, “but there is a … complication.” He looked at Wentworth, who nodded.
    â€œWe were tracking a possible Trapdoor package to the Yucatán,” he said.
    â€œJesus!” Teller said. “Confirmed?”
    â€œNo,” Larson admitted. “Not confirmed. But we’re ninety percent on it.”
    â€œDave is with WINPAC,” Wentworth explained.
    WINPAC was the CIA’s Weapons, Intelligence, Nonproliferation, and Arms Control Center, a department under the Directorate of Intelligence concerned with monitoring nuclear weapons and the threat they posed to the United States. “Trapdoor,” Teller knew, was a code name for loose nukes—atomic weapons or nuclear materials that had gone missing, particularly during the break-up of the Soviet Union and in the chaotic aftermath of civil war, breakaway republics, and Muslim unrest during the nineties.
    â€œWe believe,” Larson continued, “that two of Lebed’s missing suitcases were purchased in 2011 for twelve million dollars—a real bargain. Informants placed them in Karachi this past February. We were attempting to organize a strike force to go in and neutralize them. Unfortunately, they disappeared.”
    Teller felt a cold chill sweep up the back of his neck. This was nightmare stuff. Lebed was Russian general Alexander Lebed, who’d announced to the world in 1997 that 132 so-called suitcase nukes produced for the KGB were unaccounted for and might be headed for the open market. There were plenty of groups and governments in the world who would like to acquire one or more of the devices and become an overnight nuclear power.
    â€œDisappeared? How?”
    Larson shrugged. “We’re talking about two devices about yea big.” He held up his hands three feet apart, indicating something the size of a large briefcase. “Fifty, maybe sixty pounds each. Karachi is a very busy port, the Pakistanis don’t particularly like us right now, and not all of the ships there are well documented. We thought the weapons were on board a Syrian freighter, the Qahir. Navy SEALs deploying out of Diego Garcia intercepted the Qahir in the western Indian Ocean and performed a VBSS. They came up empty-handed.”
    VBSS was the military acronym for “visit, board, search, and seizure.” Teller wondered how that one had been covered up, since he hadn’t heard anything about it either on the news or through official channels. Possibly the State Department had been working overtime smoothing things over back-channel, convincing the Syrians that it was in their best interests to help find two missing nuclear weapons. Or possibly the Qahir had simply been reported as lost at sea. Those waters were well known to be the hunting grounds for pirates, and dangerous.
    â€œSo we went back to the drawing board,” Larson continued. He tapped on the tabletop, bringing up fifteen photographs of different ships. “All of these vessels were reported as departing from Karachi during the last week in March, the time period when we thought the weapons left Pakistan. We were also following up rumors that the ISI had stepped in and secured the devices for themselves.” Inter-Services Intelligence, the ISI, was Pakistan’s equivalent of the CIA. “The destinations of those ships were scattered all over the world—Jakarta, Sidney, Los