Pipeline (34 page)

“What they intended to do with that control is anybody’s guess. But what we do know is that when Senator Luis Matta found out about Russia’s control of the sham company that was about to win control of his country’s gas, he was assassinated. Shot.

“If this isn’t interesting enough,” said Hardaway, the Pacific
Ocean’s wind whipping through her auburn hair, “there is more. The plot gets thicker.

“As we reported a few nights ago, Martha Packard, the U.S. national intelligence chief, tendered her resignation, ostensibly for personal reasons. But CNN has now learned that, at the very moment Luis Matta was discovering Volga Gaz’s deceit here in Lima, General Martha Packard was in Moscow negotiating a secret deal with Volga Gaz to expand Russia’s supply of gas to the United States. Nobody knows exactly what was happening in those negotiations, but there are two questions that need answering.

“Why was the CIA negotiating in Moscow for gas with an entity that clearly had the intention of doing harm to the United States? And why did the CIA not know about what was going on here in Lima?”

Tony looked over at Tolberg. His eyes were glued to the television, but his face had contoured into a sly smile. His fist was clenched into a punch. It occurred to Tony that he was imagining his own uppercut landing on Packard’s jaw.

“We will explore those two questions in the next half hour,” Hardaway said, turning to face the camera. Suddenly, her pacing stopped. For the smallest of pauses, she seemed to hesitate. Television magnified even the slightest of mannerisms. And, for that split second, Anna Hardaway looked as if she didn’t want to continue.

“But first we should be clear.” Hardaway’s delivery suddenly lost its luster. She slowed to a monotone. It was so unusual for her that it left the impression that something important was coming.

“It is CNN’s policy to protect sources. There is, however, an exception to that rule. If another news organization is reporting the same story with a name attached to it, it is our obligation to give you, our viewers, the widest-angle view possible.

“We must report, therefore, that the
New York Times
Web site is tonight running a story sourced to unattributed CIA officials for publication in tomorrow’s newspaper that central intelligence di
rector Martha Packard was not alone in Moscow. According to the
New York Times,
with her in Russia was Anthony Ruiz, a White House official presently under questioning by his superiors for illicitly passing official information to Russian government officials.”

The four persons in Isaiah J. Tolberg’s office sat in stunned silence, eyes glued to the television. It didn’t matter anymore what Anna Hardaway was saying. None of them was listening.

Tony Ruiz looked from the president to Tolberg and back again to the president. Gene Laurence’s hand was in his hair, holding on to the firmament of his scalp. Tolberg never raised his eyes from the floor.

Tony had warned them, begged them. It had been obvious that a story this big couldn’t be locked away in a box. Not when Martha Packard was the enemy. But they had refused to listen. What was it about this city that made powerful people believe they were impregnable?

The only one not surprised was Tony Ruiz. He had come prepared. Tony got up and went to his briefcase, parked on the floor next to Tolberg’s office doorway. He took out the red folder and tossed it on the coffee table. Without another word, he turned and walked out, leaving Blaise Ryan in the office with the two men.

Tony ambled down the hallway toward his office. In a strange way, he was relieved; a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. But he felt sorry for Tolberg and the president.

They would be the ones to deal with this mess, Tony thought as he followed the cubicle-lined passage to his office. They would be the ones to fight the energy battle with Congress. And with this scandal hanging over the White House, Gene Laurence’s effort to liberate America from its dependency on the fossil fuels of hostile outsiders would become hell on earth. Hand-to-hand combat.

No, thought Tony. The energy wars were far from over. A new Cold War had just begun. And as Tony made his way toward the White House’s east elevator, he wondered how long he could really stay out. In the past months, he had learned that the coin of leader
ship had two sides—the beautiful and the unsightly. But Tony Ruiz had now been bitten by the bug of politics. He was hooked. As he smiled at the uniformed Secret Service guard overseeing the traffic at the black-painted, wrought-iron gate, he knew that somehow his role in all this was far from finished.

Jacket design by T.H. Nicholas

Jacket photographs of Washington D.C. by IT Stock International/Jupiter, flag by Jupiter Images