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“Yes, Chairman,” the night-duty supervisor answered at once.
“What’s the status of Max Hanley’s radio ID chip?”
Each member of the Corporation had a locator microchip surgically embedded in the leg that beamed a faint signal to the constellation of communications satellites circling the globe. Powered by the nervous system, with an occasional transdermal boost of electricity like with a pacemaker, the devices allowed Juan to know where any member of his team was at all times.
“I’m not getting a signal. Hold on. Here we go. The computer says his transponder stopped working eleven minutes ago, about two miles from the hotel where he was staying with his son. Eddie’s is working fine. I show him in central Rome, about a quarter mile from the Colosseum.”
“Thank you.” Juan released the intercom and spoke into his desk telephone, a modern instrument disguised to look like a Bakelite phone from the 1930s. “Max’s transponder’s out.”
“I already figured it would be,” Eddie replied.
“That’s how they tracked you to Rome, isn’t it? Kyle Hanley was chipped when he was in Greece. And they took the precaution of sweeping Max in case we did the same thing.”
“They probably carved it out of his thigh, in whatever vehicle they used to make their getaway.”
“But even the best chips can only give you a rough approximation, they aren’t as powerful as GPS,” Juan said.
“That’s why I think Kyle helped them. When they ambushed us in the hotel’s elevator they brought Max and me back to the suite. Kyle didn’t look all that drugged to me. I think he came to during our flight from Crete and was faking it for the last part of our trip. He was left alone for a few minutes in one of the bedrooms while we spoke with Dr. Jenner. Supposedly, he was unconscious, but if he was awake he could have called Kovac, or someone else in the movement, and given them the name of the hotel and the room number.”
“So Kovac tracked him to Rome using a radio tag and Kyle guided him to the exact location.”
“That’s the only way it makes any sense.”
“Just spitballing here, but what about Jenner? He could have blown our location to the Responsivists.”
“He could have,” Eddie agreed, “but I could tell he hates them the way a drug counselor hates crack. Also, you didn’t see the way Kovac pistol-whipped him. No, Jenner’s definitely on our side on this.”
“Like I said, just throwing it out there.”
“You know, Juan, they took a hell of a risk to get the kid back. Doesn’t make any sense if Kyle’s just some low-level believer.”
“Then he’s somehow involved in whatever they’re planning.”
“Or at least exposed to the information at the retreat,” Eddie said.
“They snatched him back to keep operational security absolutely airtight.”
“If they’re at this level of paranoia, there’s no way they will let Linda into that compound.”
“I already scrubbed her mission. We learned that Kovac was aboard the Golden Dawn and was most likely responsible for those murders. She’s going to babysit Kevin Nixon until he can make contact with Donna Sky.”
Eddie thought about this for a moment before saying, “I was with Kovac for only a minute before I escaped, but I could see that. The guy looks like Boris Karloff, with crazier eyes. I just thought of something. Kovac said that Severance gave him explicit orders not to kill Jenner. I don’t understand the reasoning behind that, but why would they leave Jenner behind and snatch Max?”
“They don’t know if
Kyle talked to him during the time he was with us.”
“No. What I mean is, why not simply kill them both? They had the opportunity, and it would have been a lot easier.”
“Same reason. They need to know if Kyle talked.”
“Max is in for a rough time, isn’t he?”
“Yeah,” Juan said softly. “Yeah, he is.”
“What do you want me to do?” Eddie said after a lengthy pause, as both men thought about the implications of Cabrillo’s answer.
“Meet the Oregon in Monaco. I’m putting you in charge of the eavesdropping job.”
