the name of the doctor from the embassy-"
"From the colonel, in fact," Drew clarified.
"You called back, asking the doctor for a private telephone. It was a long conversation."
"Again with Witkowski. He knows whom to reach and how to do these things."
"What things?"
"Like removing a body and holding it in isolation."
"Harry?"
"Yes. No one at the scene could have learned who he was after we left. That's when I put it together, somewhere between our getting out of there and my second call to the colonel. Harry was giving me those orders, he was telling me what to do."
"Please be clearer."
"I'm to become him, I'm taking his place. I'm Harry Latham."
Colonel Stanley Witkowski moved quickly, calling in old debts from the Cold War years. He reached a C deputy chief of the Paris [email protected], a former intelli-I gence officer who had headed up the French garrison in Berlin, and with whom a frustrated Witkowski, then a major in the U.S. Army G-2, had seen fit to go around regulations and exchange information. ("I thought we were on the same side, Senator!") As a result, the colonel had under his sole control not only the body of the slain Harry Latham, but also those of the two assassins. All three were stored under fictitious names in the morgue on the rue Fontenay. Further, in the interest of both countries, a fact readily accepted by the Sfiret6 deputy, a blackout was put on the terrorist act in the pursuit of additional information.
For Witkowski understood what Drew Latham only half perceived. The removal of his brother's body would create partial confusion, but along with the blackout, the disappearance of the killers made it total.
In a hotel room at Orly, prepared to take the three-thirty P.m. flight to Munich, the man in the steel-rimmed glasses paced nervously in front of a window, erratically distracted by the planes departing from and arriving at the field. The muted thunder of the jets served only to heighten his anxiety. He kept glaring at the telephone, furious that it did not ring,. delivering him the news that would justify his return to Munich, his mission completed. That the assignment could fail was unthinkable. He had reached the Paris branch of the Blitzkrieger, the elite killers of the Briiderschaft, so highly trained and skilled, so superior in the deadly crafts, they numbered less than two hundred instantly mobile predators operating in Europe, South America, and the United States. Catbird had been officially informed that in the four years since they had been sent to their posts, only three had been taken, two preferring their own deaths to interrogation and one killed in Paris in the line of duty. No details were ever revealed;
regarding the Blitzkrieger, secrecy was absolute. Even Catbird had to appeal to the second highest leader of the Brotherhood, the tempestuous General von Schnabe, to be permitted to enlist these elite assassins.
So why didn't the phone ring? Why the delay? The lethal surveillance had been in operation since the arrival of Harry Latham at 10:28 in the morning at De Gaulle airport and his departure by car at eleven o'clock. It was now past one-thirty in the afternoon!
Catbird couldn't stand the lack Of communication; he crossed to the bedside telephone and dialed the Blitzkrieger number.
"Avignon Warehouses," said the female voice on the line in French.
"How may I direct your call?"
"Frozen foods division, if you please. Monsieur "Giroux."
"I'm afraid his line is busy."
"I'll wait precisely thirty seconds, and if he's not free, I'll cancel my order."
"I see.. .. That won't be necessary, sir, I can ring him now."
"Catbird?" asked a male voice.
"At least I used the right words. What the hell is going on? Why haven't you called?"
"Because there's nothing to report."
"That's ridiculous! It's been over three hours!"
"We're as disturbed as you are, so don't raise your voice to me.
Our last contact was an hour and twelve minutes ago; everything was on schedule. Our two men were following Latham in a Renault driven by a woman. Their last words were "Everything's under control, the mission will be carried out shortly."
"That was it? An hour ago?"
"Yes.
"Nothing else?"
"No. That was the last transmission."
"Well, where are they?"
"We wish we knew."
"Where were they going?"
"North out of Paris, specifics weren't mentioned."
"Why not?"
"With frequency traffic, it would be stupid. Besides, those two are a prime unit, they've never failed."
"Is it possible they failed today?"
"It's extremely unlikely."
"Extremely unlikely is hardly an unequivocal answer. Have you any idea how vital this assignment is?"
"All our assignments are vital, or