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“Definitely. Bank accounts, an upscale apartment with a Porsche in the designated parking space, gym membership, utilities, food delivery accounts with long histories, and so on. It’d take a lot of scrutiny to find a crack. Well beyond the capabilities of the Syrian intelligence apparatus, I think.”
“What about the situation on the ground in Syria?”
She reclined, propping herself on one elbow to face him. “It’s a mess.”
“I was hoping for something more specific.”
“Me too. I used to have contacts there, but I haven’t been in touch with any of them in years. I suspect most are dead.”
“What about Irene?”
“She’s better connected, but still her resources on the ground are limited. She has a handful of reliable people, but for obvious reasons doesn’t want to expose them for the benefit of your new employer. If you get in serious trouble, she might change her mind, but remember thatreliablehas its own definition in Syria. An ally on Monday could be your worst enemy on Tuesday.”
“That’s more or less how I remember it.”
“The person with the most in-country resources is your new friend,” she said, avoiding the use of his name. “But don’t let him oversell you on his capabilities. His reach isn’t what it once was there, and he’s made a lot of enemies. There was a time when his network was useful to Damascus because it kept drug money out of the hands ofthe worst of the insurgents. Now the government mostly sees him as competition and they’ve done a good job of dismantling, absorbing, or chasing his network underground.”
“What about the European intelligence agencies?”
“They’re working on the Salerno attack, but at this point, they know less than you.”
“Were you able to find out how the Italian police knew about the shipment?”
“Interestingly, it was an anonymous tip.”
“Losa,” Rapp said under his breath.
“A strong possibility.”
“He says that the captagon in that container wasn’t the crap that gets sold in the Middle East. It’s actually a reengineered version of the original pharmaceutical-grade stuff.”
“As far as we know, the Europeans haven’t gotten around to analyzing the pills they recovered. I doubt they’d see it as a priority. If that’s what he’s telling you, though, you can rely on the information. In the field of narcotics, his chemists are the best in the world. Is that what he’s concerned about? The Syrian government moving in on his European operation?”
Rapp nodded.
“And what exactly does he expect you to do about it?”
“My sense is he isn’t sure. But I can tell you that he’s sweating. He can’t figure out their manufacturing process and he’s impressed by the product. Right now, he’s completely blind, so whatever information I can get will be an improvement.”
“Again, why you? What little experience you have with the narcotics trade is from the enforcement side, not the distribution side. And negotiations aren’t exactly your strong suit. You just proved that again in Afghanistan.”
Rapp scanned the widely spaced people in front of them as the symphony came back from break. “I think he’s more interested in my other traits.”
“Such as?”
“I don’t charge anything, I’m completely expendable, and if the Syrians interrogate me, I don’t know anything. Even if I catch a bullet ten seconds after I land in Damascus, that’s good information and he hasn’t lost anything.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better.”
“Me neither, but it is what it is. Hopefully, the Syrians will be smart and want to work with me. All they have to do is recognize that he’s got a lot to offer, and this should be quick and civilized.”
“And you can add supporting the Syrian government and the most powerful drug cartel in the world to your résumé.”
“Not the worst thing I’ve ever done,” he said, reaching for his champagne again. “Not even in the top five.”
CHAPTER 10
SOUTHWEST OF AL-QADR
