The Italian Divide (25 page)

“That sucks.”

“I also agreed we wouldn’t question Lin Yu any further.”

Craig was dismayed. “I’m the victim. I was attacked.”

“That may be, but my job is to avoid embarrassment for the United States and keep American citizens out of jail in Singapore. Now I don’t know who you really are, but I’m confident you’re an American citizen.”

“Thank you for helping me out of this.”

“Just doing my job.”

Before boarding the plane to Washington, Craig stopped in the men’s room. He looked like hell, he thought as he glanced in the mirror. His face had multiple cuts and bruises.

He lifted his shirt. His back and side were black and blue and lots of other colors that nasty bruises display.

He was also exhausted. He slept all the way to Washington.

When he got off at Dulles Airport, he saw he had a message from Elizabeth to call her.

He called her back. “We need to talk,” she said.

“Where are you?”

“Milan.”

“I want you to go to the American Consulate and wait in the reception area. In about an hour, I’ll call you.”

*     *     *

When Craig walked into Betty’s office at CIA headquarters, she looked at his face and said, “Same old Craig.”

“Thanks Betty.”

“Was it worth it?”

“I’ll give you the details later, but in a word, ‘no’ I didn’t learn a damn thing from Yu.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

“I have Elizabeth standing by in our consulate in Milan waiting for me to call her. Can you hook us up on a secure phone?”

“Will do.”

Moments later, Craig and Betty were seated at Betty’s desk; Elizabeth was in the communications room in the Milan consulate on a secure line.

“I’m in Langley with Betty. You can talk freely now.”

“Hi, Elizabeth,” Betty said.

“Good to hear your voice. Are you keeping Craig out of trouble?”

“I failed. He was bloodied and bruised in Singapore.”

“So what else is new,” Elizabeth said.

“And all for naught,” Craig added.

“Oh, that’s too bad—at least one of us learned something.”

“Don’t gloat. Just tell me.”

“I think you’re right, Craig, about Zhou and Parelli.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

Elizabeth continued, saying, “I don’t have any hard evidence. When I interviewed Parelli, I pressed him about Chinese support. He denied it, but he was so defensive. I’m convinced by his demeanor and the sudden influx of funds that he must have gotten money from Zhou. Still, that’s not enough for me to use to support an article for the paper. And I can’t believe Mei Ling knows what Zhou is doing.”

“What difference does that make?” Craig said. “She’d never be able to stop him.”

“She is the President of China.”

“Look, Elizabeth. I know you like Mei Ling, and I do, too. However, I think Zhou will run all over her.”

“Don’t underestimate her. She may be able to stop him. At any rate, she has a right to know what’s Zhou’s up to.”

“And how do you propose to let her know? By flying to Beijing to tell her?”

“That’s exactly what I had in mind,” Elizabeth replied.

“Are you crazy? That’s the sort of stupid thing I would do. For God’s sake, Zhou had you watched for a year. Once he finds out you’re in China—and he will because their security people scrutinize the names of all arriving journalists—you’ll be dead meat. They’ll make you suffer torture you can’t even imagine.”

“Not if I come in under the radar.”

“How?” asked Craig.

“As a French tourist with a false name and papers. I know people in Paris who can prepare them. Also, I’ll change my appearance.”

“But when you call Mei Ling’s office to meet her, he’ll get wind of that. He must have spies there.”

“I won’t do it. I’ll tell Ned, my Beijing Bureau Chief, to arrange a secret meeting. He knows Mei Ling.”

“This is ridiculous.” Craig looked at Betty. “Tell her she’s being foolish.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Betty asked. “With the risks Craig warned you about?”

“Absolutely. Between Ned and Mei Ling, I should be able to get a positive ID for the Chinese man who was in Parelli’s suite in Venice. Hopefully, he’ll be somebody on Zhou’s staff. Also, if I can persuade Mei Ling to shut down Zhou’s Italian operation, we’ll all be a lot better off.”

“It’s your call,” Betty said.

“Thanks for the support.” Craig grumbled.

“It will take me a little while to get the papers together. I’ll go as soon as I can. I’ll report to you when I get back.”

“
If
you come back,” Craig added.

After the call, Craig said to Betty, “She’s insane to do this.”

“She spent a lot of time with you. She learned by example.”

Fearful for Elizabeth, he ran his hand through his hair. “You want to know about Singapore now?”

“Before you arrived, I received a call from President Worth. He wants to hear your report, too. Let me call and get on his calendar. We can go to the White House together.”

*     *     *

When Craig followed Betty into the Oval Office, he saw two other men standing in the living area with President Worth. One was Winston (“Win”) Tyler, the Secretary of the Treasury whom Craig recognized from pictures in the media. The other was Clyde Jones, the Secretary of State with whom Craig had clashed years ago when Craig was working in the Middle East for the CIA.

At the time, Jones, an African American from South Central LA and a top graduate of West Point, was a general in the Army who had achieved his rank after a meteoric rise. Jones had vetoed a couple of daring operations Craig had planned to hit terrorists at bases inside of civilian areas. Craig was dismayed by the General’s super-cautious approach, afraid to take the kind of risks that were necessary to prevail in warfare. With his CIA colleagues, Craig referred to Jones as “General No.”

Listening to the president introduce him, using his real name, Craig cringed. At the end, Worth said, “Craig is a true American hero. Our super spy. Recipient of the Medal of Freedom. Twice. He’s changed his appearance and his name, but he’s still the same Craig Page.”

Jones replied, “Craig and I know each other,” in a frosty tone.

Betty added, “Craig was just battered and bruised in Singapore serving his country.”

“I hope you gave as good as you got,” Worth said.

“Unfortunately, I didn’t, Mr. President. Not this time. There will be another, I’m sure.”

“Good to meet you,” Tyler said.

As they sat down, Worth said, “I wanted Clyde and Win to be here because this has foreign policy and financial implications. Now Craig, why don’t you begin by telling us why you went to Singapore, for their benefit, and what happened there.”

Craig began by talking about Federico’s murder and the sale of shares in his bank, laying out the facts that lead to Craig’s conclusion that Zhou Yun was the mastermind of the whole affair. While speaking, he glanced at Jones and Tyler. The secretary of state was leaning forward, listening intently. The treasury secretary was squirming in his chair and looking uncomfortable.

He decided to leave out the Parelli discussion because Elizabeth had obtained the facts, and she was dealing with that by going to Beijing to meet Mei Ling. Craig didn’t want Worth to take independent action that might jeopardize Elizabeth.

However, he described everything that happened in Singapore. At the end he said, “Your ambassador, Jennifer Nelson, was extremely helpful, Mr. President. Unfortunately, I made an error by not involving her when I went out for what I thought would be a midnight meeting with Lin Yu, the head of the Singapore Bank.”

“Thanks for telling me about Jennifer. She’s very impressive and competent. But the bottom line is you didn’t learn anything in Singapore.”

“Correct,” Craig said.

“Let’s try another tack,” the president said. “Suppose I fly to Europe to meet with the leaders of England, France, and Germany. I’ll tell them what you’ve learned. That Zhou Yun and the Chinese are trying to gain a foothold in Europe, starting with Italian banks. Then they can take some action to respond.”

Tyler immediately pounced. “With all due respect, Mr. President, I’m sure Craig Page has done wonderful things for this country, but his claims of the involvement of Zhou Yun and the Chinese are nothing but rank speculation.”

Craig responded, “Zhou owns the Hong Kong bank that’s trying to take over a controlling interest in Alberto Goldoni’s bank, Turin Credit, the largest bank in Italy.”

“So what? International companies are constantly making acquisitions in foreign countries. That’s what globalization is.”

“First, the Milan bank, now the Turin Bank.”

“You have zero evidence tying Zhou Yun to the transaction with Federico’s bank in Milan. That’s what you went to Singapore to get and you failed.”

“That’s why I was attacked in Singapore. Because I was getting too close to that critical information.”

Tyler snarled. “You have no idea why you were attacked. And you don’t have a shred of evidence to support your wild conjecture that Zhou Yun, one of the most respected Chinese business leaders and their treasury minister, wanted the Singapore bank to complete the acquisition so badly that he arranged a murder to get it done.”

“Zhou is ruthless. He’ll do whatever it takes to get his way.”

“Sounds to me,” Tyler said raising his voice, “that you and Zhou have a history.”

“We do, but—”

“And that’s coloring your judgment, leading you to unjustified conclusions.”

The vehemence of Tyler’s objections stunned Craig. “I don’t think so.”

“Oh, c’mon, Craig. Look at what you have. Every officer in Federico’s bank told you and Giuseppe that Federico wanted the transaction, for which he stood to make a fortune.”

Craig bit his lip and held his voice. He had promised Federico’s secretary that he wouldn’t disclose what she had told him, and he intended to honor that.

Tyler wasn’t finished with his diatribe. “You may not like the Chinese, and I have problems with them from time to time over financial issues, but they’re still the second most powerful nation in the world. We have to get along with them. And unfounded accusations of murder directed at their finance minister will poison our relationship with Beijing for years. I don’t think you want to do that.”

“I just want to see us take a stand for what’s right and just.”

The secretary of state broke in. “I must say, Mr. President, Win is right. We don’t know enough at this point to set off alarms in Europe. In addition, you know how the Europeans are. They’ll say we’re trying to intervene in their internal matter.”

Thanks a lot, General No,
Craig thought.
I’m happy to see that you haven’t changed your super cautious, gutless approach.

Worth leaned back and closed his eyes for a minute. Then, he said, “I think the two of you have a point. Still, Craig could be right, and if he is, I hate to see us doing nothing in response to a Chinese move into Europe.”

Craig saw his opening. “I have another idea, Mr. President. As I said, Victoria Bank of Hong Kong, which is a subsidiary of Zhou’s bank in China, is trying to acquire the stock of Alberto Goldoni, the dominant shareholder in the Turin bank. Goldoni, does not want to sell. Threats were made against him with a reference to Federico Castiglione.”

“How do you know this?” Tyler asked. “More guesswork on your part.”

“Giuseppe, the Director of EU Counterterrorism, told me. He heard it directly from Goldoni. I doubt if either of them is lying.”

“That’s outrageous,” Worth said.

“Exactly, Mr. President. What I propose to do is go to Italy under a false identity as Barry Gorman, the head of a US-based private equity fund.”

“That was the identity you used in Argentina,” Worth said.

Craig was surprised Worth knew and impressed that he remembered.

“Betty told me about it,” Worth added.

Craig continued, “Barry Gorman will make a competing and higher offer for Alberto Goldoni’s stock. Put it into play.”

“And what do you hope to accomplish with that?” Tyler asked in a hostile tone.

“To smoke out Zhou. If he really wants Alberto’s bank, and if he thinks he’s at risk of losing it, he’ll attack Barry Gorman. These attacks will be attributed to him, and this will expose his effort to gain a foothold in Italy by taking over some of its banks.”

“So you’d be putting yourself in the line of fire,” Worth said.

“That’s right, Mr. President.

“I like the idea—as long as you’re willing to take the risk.”

“I am.”

“What do the rest of you think?”

Betty responded first. “Excellent idea.”

“I don’t like it,” Tyler said.

“Why not?” Craig asked.

“It puts this country in a bad position. We’d be interfering with the free market.”

“There is no free market if a buyer uses murder as a weapon,” Betty said.

“Suppose you outbid Victoria Bank,” Tyler said angrily. “Would you expect the US Treasury to put up the money to buy Goldoni’s stock?”

“It will never come to that.”

The president turned to the secretary of state. “Clyde?”

“It’s your decision, Mr. President.”

“Okay. Let’s do it. I’ll trust Craig’s instincts.”

“But I don’t think that …” Tyler said.

Everyone was looking at the treasury secretary. Continuing to argue after the president had decided was a breach of protocol.

“It is your decision, Mr. President,” he reluctantly said.

As they filed out of the Oval Office, Craig was pleased he had gotten the president’s approval for his counteroffer. Beyond the president’s line of vision, Craig caught Tyler’s eye. In a short rapid motion, he gave the treasury secretary the finger and smiled.