The Matarese Countdown (Matarese Dynasty 1)

"The pig of the world!" Guiderone's voice was guttural and barely audible.

"I'm afraid there's more, which is why we must discuss tactics," said Matareisen quietly yet with a hint of strength.

"We know it was Scofield who broke into McDowell's office in Wichita, but we don't know what he learned, if anything. However, the fact that he zeroed in on McDowell tells us a great deal, and combined with the news from London-" "What happened in London?" asked the son of the Shepherd Boy icily.

"I had the Brewster house in Belgravia wired."

"Was that necessary?" Guiderone interrupted, his voice once again cold.

"Yes, it was. Lady Alicia reacted violently against my entreaties, protesting that the Matarese was no part of her life nor ever would be.

She made it clear that there were others who felt the same way, those who devoted their lives and their riches to repay the sins of their ancestral wealth. That statement led us to the heir of the Scozzi-Tremontes, the so-called playboy, Giancarlo, who was actually an international attorney opposed to us."

"He was killed on a polo field in America. So what? No traces."

"So your enemy, Beowulf Agate, was called in by the Central Intelligence Agency. He knew-knows-more about us than anyone on earth. God knows why or how, but he was recruited."

"The pig of the world!" Guiderone spat out again.

"That's why we had to know what transpired at the Brewster house in Belgravia. We compromised her idiot husband to act as our surveillance, finally ordering him to kill her when the damn fool stole millions.

Accidents will happen and he was a disaster, though a temporary one.

We took care of him. Again, no trail."

"We stray," said Guiderone curtly.

"So you had Belgravia wired-" "The bugs were discovered."

"Surely that was a given from the start. The people who service the Brewsters are not fools, they're highly paid stewards who can't afford to be careless. One slip and a truckload of debugging paraphernalia would be at the front door-which it obviously was. To our detriment."

"It's more complicated than that, but I assure you, there's no traceability. The man who did the installation has been eliminated, and his receiving post in Lowndes Street cleaned out, all the tapes removed."

"I commend your efficiency," said the Shepherd Boy's son, who years ago was about to occupy the White House.

"But I'm sure there's more. You didn't fly down in the middle of the night from Amsterdam to impress me with your efficiency." Guiderone paused, his hostile glare returning.

"You mentioned something about moving up the schedule, which I'm unalterably opposed to. There's far too much to do, too many operations to be refined. There can be no interruptions, no changes!"

"With respect, I disagree. Through your outstanding efforts and my minor contributions, the major chess pieces are in place throughout Europe, North America, and the Mediterranean. We must strike while our machine is primed, before any obstacles suddenly appear."

"What obstacles? It's the boy, isn't it, the Montrose son!"

"Gone, vanished, disappeared," said the Dutchman quickly.

"He's in the past and is irrelevant. What have we lost? The obedience of a mother who's no longer important to us? She's in London now with Scofield's associate, a man named Pryce, deadly by reputation. To stem any conceivable progress they might make, both will be killed within days, perhaps hours, and that is important to us."

"Why is it? I have no objection, but there must be things you're not telling me."

"Forgive me, sir, but those 'things' are self-evident."

"Be careful, young Matareisen. Remember whom you're talking to."

"My apology, but with respect, I must make my case clear.. .. How, we don't know, but McDowell was uncovered in Wichita. How? How did Scofield know? Everything in McDowell's office was shipped to us;

the files under spectrograph indicated recent tampering; the decoder as well, and we know an attempt was made to use the computer because that is what set off the alarms. What did your Beowulf Agate learn, or did he learn anything?"

"What could he learn?" asked Guiderone quietly, pensively.

"McDowell was as cautious as he was brilliant. He'd never leave anything in his office pertaining to us. It's unthinkable."

"He may have felt safer in his suite at Atlantic Crown. His marriage was sour, his wife a jealous alcoholic-with good reason. Don't you see, sir, we just don't know!"

"Certain lapses granted, it's no reason to alter schedules. To achieve the results we seek, everything's in the timing. It must be flawless, the successive shocks catastrophic. Our progress is sound. There'll be no changes."

"Then I'll try to be clearer," said the frustrated man from Amsterdam.

"And you're right, there are things I haven't told you, for they were under control and there was no point in bothering you.

However, when the news about Scofield's kills reached me, I knew it was time to meet you face-to-face."

"In order to convince me?"

"In order to convince you," agreed the grandson softly.

"Then try harder, Jan," said Guiderone, alarmed, his concentration now absolute.

"You've accomplished a great deal-extraordinary leaps, to be sure. I can't dismiss you. Go ahead, what haven't you told me that you think is so vital?"

"It's not simply one thing, it's when you put them all together.. ..

We must go back to the trawler in the Caribbean, the Swedish captain who escaped. He made his way to Puerto Rico by way of Tortola-" "Yes, yes," interrupted Guiderone impatiently.

"You funneled money to him to fly back to Amsterdam, I know all about it."

"He never arrived. He was spotted on the plane by a Swedish businessman, met at Heathrow by the police, and flown back to Stockholm to face charges in the Palme assassination."

"Unfortunate for him, but how does it concern us?"

"He's pleading for his life. We could be part of a deal."

"He doesn't know that much."

"He knows enough. He was under orders, no matter how obscured."

"I see. Go on."

"Prior to closing down the Lowndes Street listening post, our informer reached London control with the news that Pryce, the Montrose woman, and an Mi-Five officer were on their way to Westminster House-" "The Brewsters' private bank, for all intents and purposes," broke in the son of the Shepherd Boy.

"If you recall, to make a casual inroad or two, I used the same accounts man who serviced her ladyship, a fellow named Chadwick. Had several pleasant lunches, but I didn't learn much."

"That's why he had to be killed," said Matareisen, his voice flat.

"We could have no idea what transpired between the two of you, but we understood that there could be no possible linkage. Our control himself took care of the job and removed your file from Chadwick's office. It was fortunate that he did."

"Why is that?"

"Among Mr. Chadwick's comments were, and I quote, "Mr.

Guiderone is inordinately interested in the Brewsters of Belgravia.

Another rich American social climber no doubt."

" "The dirty bastard," said Julian, chuckling; and then he was abruptly serious.

"Again, I commend your efficiency, Jan, and I'm sincerely grateful. It was a stupid and unnecessary risk on my part.. .. But you're talking about what-ifs and all-too-possible events that do not necessarily lead to the consequences that so disturb you."

"Substitute 'possible' with 'conceivable." Only a shade of difference, Mr. Guiderone."

"Neither is strong enough to interrupt the operations now being developed and refined. The Persian Gulf, the Mediterranean, the North Sea-progressive strategies that will paralyze the fuel of the financial world, my young friend. Done with the sweep of a Gotterdammerung!

Irresistible.. .. You'll have to come up with something much stronger, Jan."

"I think I can, if you'll give me another minute."

"You have it."

"The progressive financial madness in the Euro-AmericanMediterranean markets is all to our benefit, exactly as we planned. The current economic analyses project a loss of over eighty million jobs, again to our benefit, for we are prepared to fill the vacuums and restore stability, with us as the mentors-" "All to the good, Jan, all to the good! Perception is everything, reality only secondary. We shall control the economies, and therefore the governments, of sixty-two countries, including the seven most influential national capitals. Our goal will be reached, the Matarese agenda complete! Everything legal under the laws, or beyond the laws into the spatial continuum of legal theory. We are invincible!"

"You still do not understand, Mr. Guiderone," shouted Matareisen.

"You do not see!"

"See what? The fulfillment of a legend as vital as the search for the Arc of the Covenant? The answer for our planet!" "Sir, I implore you, face that reality you consider secondary, for it so easily becomes perception!"

"What are you babbling about?"

"Through my inheritor in Lisbon, a man of enormous influence matched only by his deviousness-" "The fellow who corralled the Azores, taxes and all?"

"The same, also the man who had our enemy, Dr. Juan Guaiardo, eliminated in Monte Carlo."

"Yes, what about him?"

"He's very close to corruptible elements in the nearby Spanish government, by and large the remnants of the old Franco crowd, including Madrid intelligence. He wasn't sure what it all meant, but it so stunned him that he reached me this afternoon-yesterday afternoon-and faxed me up what materials he could get his hands on. They weren't complete, but they're frightening."