“I hear my wife paging me but …” he indicated the woman’s bags, “I can’t leave my luggage.” He pulled out a ten-dollar bill and handed it to the man. “Would you please go over to that white telephone and tell her I’ll pick her up at our hotel in an hour? I’d really appreciate it.”

The man looked at the ten-dollar bill in his hand. “Sure.”

Robert watched him walk over to the courtesy telephone and pick it up. He held the receiver to his ear and said, “Hello … hello …?”

The next moment, four large men in black suits appeared from nowhere and closed in, pinning the hapless man to the wall.

“Hey! What is this?”

“Let’s do this quietly,” one of the men said.

“What do you think you’re doing? Get your hands off me!”

“Don’t make a fuss, Commander. There’s no point …”

“Commander? You’ve got the wrong man! My name is Melvyn Davis. I’m from Omaha!”

“Let’s not play games.”

“Wait a minute! I’ve been set up. The man you want is over there!” He pointed to where Robert had been standing.

There was no one there.

Outside the terminal, an airport bus was getting ready to depart. Robert boarded it, mingling with the other passengers. He sat at the back of the bus, concentrating on his next move

He was desperate to talk to Admiral Whittaker, to try to get answers about what was going on, to learn who was responsible for killing innocent people because they had witnessed something they were not supposed to have seen. Was it General Hilliard? Dustin Thornton? Or Thornton’s father-in-law, Willard Stone, the man of mystery? Could he be involved in this in some way? Was it Edward Sanders, the Director of NSA? Did it go as high as the President? Robert needed answers.

The bus trip into Rome took an hour. When the bus stopped in front of the Eden Hotel, Robert disembarked.

I’ve got to get out of the country, Robert thought. There was only one man in Rome he could trust. Colonel Francesco Cesar, head of SIFAR, the Italian Secret Service. He was going to be Robert’s escape from Italy.

Colonel Cesar was working late. Messages had been flashing back and forth among foreign security agencies, and they all involved Commander Robert Bellamy. Colonel Cesar had worked with Robert in the past and he was very fond of him. Cesar sighed as he looked at the latest message in front of him. Terminate. And as he was reading it, his secretary came into the office.

“Commander Bellamy is on line one for you.”

Colonel Cesar stared at her. “Bellamy? Himself? Never mind.” He waited until the secretary left the room, then snatched up the telephone.

“Robert?”

“Ciao, Francesco. What the hell is going on?”

“You tell me, amico. I’ve been getting all kinds of urgent communiques about you. What have you done?”

“It’s a long story,” Robert said. “And I haven’t time. What have you heard?”

“That you’ve gone private. That you’ve been turned, and are singing like a canary.”

“What?”

“I heard you’ve made a deal with the Chinese and …”

“Jesus Christ. That’s ridiculous!”

“Is it? Why?”

“Because an hour later they’d be hungry for more information.”

“For God’s sake, Robert, this is nothing to joke about.”

“Tell me about it, Francesco. I’ve just sent ten innocent people to their deaths. I’m scheduled to be number eleven.”

“Where are you?”

“I’m in Rome. I can’t seem to get out of your fucking city.”

“Cacatura?” There was a thoughtful silence. “What can I do to help?”

“Get me to a safe house where we can talk, and I can figure out how to get away. Can you arrange that?”

“Yes, but you must be careful. Very careful. I will pick you up myself.”

Robert breathed a deep sigh of relief. “Thanks, Francesco. I really appreciate it.”

“As you Americans say, you owe me one. Where are you?”

“The Lido bar in Trastevere.”

“Wait right there. I’ll see you in exactly one hour.”

“Thanks, amico.” Robert replaced the receiver. It was going to be a long hour.

Thirty minutes later, two unmarked cars coasted to a stop ten yards from the Lido bar. There were four men in each car and they were all carrying automatic weapons.

Colonel Cesar got out of the first car. “Let’s do this quickly. We don’t want anyone else to get hurt. Andaente al dietro, subito.”

Half the men silently went around to cover the back of the building.

Robert Bellamy watched from the rooftop of the building across the street as Cesar and his men raised their weapons and charged into the bar.

All right, you bastards, Robert thought grimly, we’ll play it your way.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Day Sixteen

Rome, Italy

Robert placed a call to Colonel Cesar from a phone booth in the Piazza del Duomo. “Whatever happened to friendship?” Robert asked.

“Don’t be naive, my friend. I’m under orders, just as you are. I can assure you, there is no use in your running. You’re at the head of every intelligence agency’s most wanted list. Half the governments of the world are looking for you.”

“Do you believe I’m a traitor?”

Cesar sighed. “It doesn’t matter what I believe, Robert. This is nothing personal. I have my orders.”

“To take me out.”

“You can make it easier by turning yourself in.”

“Thanks, paesano. If I need more advice, I’ll call Dear Abby.” He slammed down the receiver.

Robert was aware that the longer he was at large, the greater the danger he was in. There would be security agents closing in on him from half a dozen countries.

There has to be a tree, Robert thought. The line came from a legend about a hunter who was relating an experience he had on safari. “This huge lion was racing toward me, and all my gun bearers had fled. I had no gun, and there was nowhere to hide. Not a bush or a tree in sight. And the beast was charging straight at me, coming closer and closer.” “How did you escape?” a listener asked. “I ran over to the nearest tree and climbed it.” “But you said there were no trees.” “You don’t understand. There has to be a tree!” And I have to find it, Robert thought.

He looked around the piazza. It was almost deserted at this hour. He decided it was time to have a talk with the man who had started him on this nightmare, General Hilliard. But he would have to be careful. Modern electronic phone tracing was almost instantaneous. Robert observed that the two telephone booths next to the one he was in were both empty. Perfect. Ignoring the private number General Hilliard had given him, he dialled the switchboard of NSA. When an operator answered, Robert said, “General Milliard’s office, please.”

A moment later, he heard a secretary’s voice. “General Hilliard’s office.”

Robert said, “Please hold for an overseas call.” He dropped the receiver and hurried into the next booth. He quickly redialled the number. A different secretary answered, “General Hilliard’s office.”

“Please hold for an overseas call,” Robert said. He let the receiver hang and walked into the third booth, and dialled. When another secretary answered, Robert said, “This is Commander Bellamy. J want to speak to General Hilliard.”

There was a gasp of surprise. “Just a moment, Commander.” The secretary buzzed the intercom. “General, Commander Bellamy is on line three.”

General Hilliard turned to Harrison Keller. “Bellamy is on line three. Start a trace, fast.”

Harrison Keller hurried over to a telephone on a side table, and dialled the Network Operations Centre, manned and monitored twenty-four hours a day. The senior officer on duty answered. “NOC. Adams.”

“How long will it take to do an emergency trace on an incoming call?” Keller whispered.

“Between one and two minutes.”

“Start it. General Hilliard’s office, line three. I’ll hang on.” He looked over at the General and nodded.

General Hilliard picked up the telephone.