CHAPTER 1
Westly Mapeler drove the Ford Taurus up Sepulveda Pass hill on I — 405. UCLA campus far off to the right and the Getty Museum on the left and Westly didn't care. His eyes were on the road. The traffic was murder, just as bad as Washington DC. His CIA partner Fred Codley was busy reading the files that were carried unopened from Dulles International to LAX, to the Avis rental desk and to the car. Westly is 38 and has eight years with the CIA. Fred, at 28 had only two years. As the car went over the hill into the San Fernando valley, Fred closed the last file.
Westly finally broke the silence, "Learn anything?".
"About John Roberts, not really. Volunteered for the war in San Salvador and got the Medal of Honor for rescuing that Sargent. An American hero, I saw the movie. He really did that stuff too, they didn't make it up for the movie." Silence. "I can't read on an airplane, it makes me sick" Silence. "But I see why they picked us for this mission. The junior guys, because we're expendable."
Westly, "What are you talking about. We're bringing him good news."
Fred, "Right, that his father, Andrew, is still alive and being held in a Russian prison."
Westly, "That's good news."
Fred, "And we've known about it for six months and said nothing. Look, I don't want to end up as a meal for the piranha in his brother's moat. We can disappear, you know."
Westly, "First of all, we didn't actually know six months ago. It was all unsubstantiated rumor from those Russian defectors that could have been lying. We had to reconfigure the satellite to fly over the camp and still wait for months to get a picture of the father in the yard. Now we know and we're here to report good news."
Fred, "Do you think John knows his father was CIA?"
Westly, "Of course, his step father would have told him. After all it was John's father that recruited Charles in the first place. And another thing, it's illegal to import piranha."
Fred, "So he knows Charles was CIA too?"
Westly, "John hired Ira and a half dozen other guys from the agency, didn't he. It stands to reason."
Fred, "Ira's a scary guy."
"An old man with one arm, my God. You big baby. Look if it makes you any happier, I'll do all the talking."
Fred, "They probably have alligators in the moat. Look, if they offer us a tour, just say no."
Westly wasn't sure what this mission was all about. When they gave him the assignment two days ago, they said everything was in the files. Give one file — with the defector reports and pictures of the father — to John, and, that's it. The other file was background. The CIA would give John updates as they were received but that was the extent of their involvement. Whatever John chose to do was up to him. And yesterday, Westly's assigned partner George Snow went to the hospital for an appendectomy and he gets this guy who is afraid of his own shadow. Westly was no fool. Something else was going on here. Oh well, two and a half hours to go. Over the Tejon Pass, take the left fork, south of Bakersfield and another left to the Los Padres National Forest. John's house and his brother's castle are atop a 200 foot granite cliff on the left. Their back yards adjoin a National Park. The town of Robertsville, population 4,521, is a mile farther. It's a small town, mostly farmers and JPR Enterprises employees. A gas station at each end, two bars, one shopping center, no Wal-Mart and mostly single family houses. The airport is north of town.
Westly, "You know Wayne has three kids. You think he would put alligators in his moat?"
Fred, "I went to John's final concert, you know."
"Which one?"
Fred, "Boston, the first. Absolutely fantastic."
Westly, "I went to the one in L.A."
Fred, "You're kidding. How did you get tickets, that was so sold out. You're making this up."
Westly, "My uncle's LAPD, a Captain." He waited a minute for Fred to brood. "I have all his albums."
Fred, "No you don't. You're so full of crap. The Japanese album was never released here. It was only released in Japan."
Westly, "I have friends. I have the CD with music only and the VCR tape."
After a few minutes of silence, Westly turned on the radio and found a news station. Twenty minutes later, they took the left turn, south of Bakersfield.
Fred, "What a desolate countryside. Ever stay at a JPR Hotel?"
Westly, "Way out of my league. With the government, we're lucky to get a Holiday Inn."
Fred, "Tell me about it. I think the turn is a couple of miles up. My last time out, I stayed at a Motel 6. Just as well, I'm an analyst. I don't do field work."
They spotted the castle turrets a couple of miles away. The cliff face is a half mile from the road and they saw a small waterfall cascading over the cliff. Reception faded so the radio was off and the windows were down. It was a pretty day. Next was John's house and they could see the tops of the two story sections, one at each end.
Fred, "Overflow from the moat. Can you hear it? Can you hear it?"
The music, coming from John's crescent shaped house was channeled towards the road and they both started singing along at the same time.
"I found my thrill, on Blueberry Hill...."
They turned left onto the two lane road, the only vehicle entrance. After a half mile, the road curves up to the left and straightens. They stop at the guard shack on top. The guard checked their ID, called the house and told them to go ahead. "Quarter mile up, first house, take the far end of the circular driveway."
They cross the fifty foot bridge over the shallow river, spot the house, turn in the second driveway and park in front of the house. It's an impressive house. Two hundred feet across the front, one story, and attached two story wings at each end that bend 45 degrees toward the cliff face. Twenty thousand square feet of main house with a detached garage of two thousand square feet set back in the woods on the exit side of the drive.
A uniformed guard meets them at the door, takes the keys to the car and tells them to go in. He will move the car off to the side. They close the heavy front door behind them and walked straight ahead to the massive kitchen with a large dining area to the left. Darcy, 30, white, tall, trim and attractive, is busy cooking. This is a working kitchen. Whatever she's making, smells good. Darcy gives them a smile and asks if they wanted anything. No? She points to the coffee already made and they both get a cup.
The band is set up at the left of the Olympic size pool that runs parallel to the main house. The whole back side of the kitchen area is sliding glass and the doors are open. John, 34, white, very fit, in a full size bathing suit is at the grand piano, Bobby Jo Goodwith, 45, white, average looking, marathoner, ex-army, one of Ira's fitness trainers and now a JPR bodyguard, is on the drums. She is wearing shorts with a thick leather belt and a sleeveless, sweat soaked t-shirt. On the saxophone is Thomas Crown, 39, Chinese, slight of built, martial arts expert who reports to Wayne Roberts. At pool side is Gloria, John's wife, 36, Virgin Islands black with a white Dutch father, super model good looks, an OG/GYN Doctor who gave up practicing medicine because a merit less lawsuit awarded millions to one of her patients. She sits at a pool side patio table with a built in umbrella. Four kids are singing and dancing along with the music and playing small drums, beating sticks, shaking tambourines or whatever they chose to do. Amber, Darcy's oldest and from her first and only marriage, takes the lead for the kids. The little ones watch her and copy. Amber is 11, white, pretty, skinny and the adopted daughter of John. Andy is 6, white and the natural son of John and Darcy. The twins, Steven and Susan are also 6, from John and Gloria and are light brown. All the kids are good swimmers.
Darcy, "The rest of the people will be here in about 20 minutes. You guys can relax or look around, whatever you want."
Westly and Fred walk to the open glass door as John was finishing "Searchin", first made famous by the Coasters. John started "Great Balls of Fire" (Jerry Lee Lewis) and Darcy walked over.
"Either of you two dance?"
Westly looked at Fred. Fred smiled, "A little." He was being modest.
"Then let's go." She walked him out to the concrete patio.
Fred considered himself a good dancer. He even won a dance contest back at Dartmouth. It took only a minute for him to realize he was way over his head. Darcy did a twist, then a double turn, then a triple. A flying split, then gave Fred a double spin.
Westly watched with his mouth open.
Darcy thanked Fred, took two steps towards the house and stopped. John started "Roller Derby Queen" (Jim Croce). She quickly spun, "One of my favorites, you don't mind"? She didn't wait for the answer and off they went. It was a dance of spins. They spun together, she did triples on her own and gave him double whirls. When it was over, she thanked him and bounced back to the kitchen. Fred was sweating profusely. He staggered over to a patio chair and fell down. Westly, calmly walked over and sat down.
Fred, "I thought I was in shape. The whole world is spinning." He looked at Westly, "Don't say a word."
John launched into "Kathmandu" (Pete Seger) and Gloria knew it was the last song, so she joined in dancing with the kids. It was the long version with two good saxophone solos. Even Gloria was sweating by the end. John got up, patted his back, Amber jumped up onto the piano bench and climbed onto John's back. Arms around his neck, legs wrapped around his middle and heads side by side. John took a deep breath and dove into the end of the 50 meter pool. He stayed underwater for 25 meters, sprang out of the water, onto the patio, in one smooth motion. Amber was still in place. John took her hands, lifted her in the air, turned her around and put her down. He bent over for a kiss and off she ran off to join the other kids.
Westly and Fred got up, introduced themselves and took turns telling John how good his music was. Westly stopped first. He remembered from the People's magazine article that John handled fawning very badly. People who agreed with him two times in a row in the board room were not invited back. John turned his back after the third compliment and walked to the house. Westly grabbed Fred, who was still talking, and signaled, with a finger across the throat, to shut up.
John was drinking a diet 7-up. Westly asked, "I notice you're doing your old stuff. The original songs."
John, "I tried some of the newer ones and the kids just sat there — staring. They like the bouncy stuff. Honky tonk."
Bobby Jo and Tom came in. Introductions all around as John excused himself to change. That's when Fred noticed the Glock in the middle of Bobby Jo's back. Tom had the same.
Fred looked at Bobby Jo, all hot and sweaty. Not a beauty queen but she looked like she could screw your brains out and then go outside and paint the house. "You like the Glock?"
Bobby Jo, "Yeah, doesn't jam. Lightweight. What do you carry?"
Fred, "We qualify with the Berreta."
Bobby Jo, "Good gun but it'll jam if you're not careful with the ammo."
Darcy asked them what they wanted for sandwiches and told them the soup was New England clam chowder and it was very good.
Tom, "It's better than very good. You guys are in the dining room, over there, behind that wall."
Darcy, "I'll bring it in."
Charles and Wayne walked in together. Followed by Ira, Merle and Bob. They all glanced at the kitchen and went straight to the dining room. Charles Lee, the stepfather since John turned twelve, is 60 years old and Chinese American. He's physically fit, like Ira, who just turned 55. Ira lost his right hand from an explosion during an operation for the CIA. Unhappy with the administrative work he was assigned to afterwards, he left the Agency. Ira has been with John for over 10 years. He has thinning blond hair and baby blue eyes. He wears an artificial hand with limited movement and it looks very real. Merle Trombore, 56, ex FBI, is a large man. Six feet four and 245 pounds with a five o'clock shadow one hour after he's shaved. He looks like Italian Mafia and was John's first hired bodyguard. Bob Krakowski, 52, ex Secret Service, was the second. Blond crew cut, blue eyes, six feet tall and a body building weight of 210 pounds. Both are Viet Nam veterans. They're tough guys and look it.
The formal dining room is 25 by 50. The mahogany table sits 18. The room is clean, efficient and very expensive. Charles sits at the end facing the sliding glass doors leading to the pool. To his left are Westly and Fred, then John. To his right are Ira and Wayne who sits across from John. Merle and Bob stand by the glass doors and close the drapes after everyone is seated. Introductions are made and Darcy brings the food in on a rolling table, leaves it and they help themselves.
Westly, "I'll get right down with it. Fred hand out the papers." He described what the CIA had assembled. "You know we get lots of information, much of which is just bull. We check it out, but without some independent verification, it doesn't go to the top of the list."
Charles, holding up a grainy photo, "But you think this is Andrew Roberts?"
Fred, "We have every reason to believe it is."
The Roberts team reads the documents and looks at the photos and blow up maps of Siberia.
Ira, "We know they never retrieved all of the bodies from the plane crash. And the Chinese final report had more holes in it than twenty year old Swiss cheese."
Fred, "Satellite photos from two years later showed debris over twenty square miles. Most likely a bomb." Fred looked directly at Charles, "You must have had the file cross your desk at the CIA."
John and Wayne were looking at the photos and their heads suddenly snapped up. They turned and stared at Charles. Charles looked at Fred.
Ira quickly cut in, "You know these photos are very grainy. And this is twenty two years later. It could be anyone."
Westly caught on. John and Wayne were still staring at Charles. "You're right Ira. But, we did aging, we have a computer program that does that, and it matches. You know, it measures, eye to eye and forehead to nose. Ninety three percent match and we have those first-hand reports from two ex prisoners. Anyway, we thought you would want to know."
Charles, "What are we to do with this information? Are you guys going in to get him out?"
Westly, "We were told to deliver the information, that's all. And, we will give you updates when new information comes in."
Ira, "You expect us to go in and get him out?"
Westly threw up his hands.
Charles thanked them and asked them to stay for a while. Bob would give them a guided tour of the house while they talked in private.
Bob showed them around the house. The walls are poured reinforced concrete. The windows have bullet proof shutters that can be pulled close from inside. From the front and both sides, the house was a fort.
Fred, "But they could get in from the back. The sliding glass doors."
Bob, "Right, but how are they going to get there. We have a security house up the road by Mr. Roberts Castle. Four men on duty at all times. The gardeners, the maids, are all trained security and armed. We're very secure here. You guys want to see the castle?"
John and Wayne are uncharacteristically quiet. A danger sign when John is quiet. Eyes are riveted on Charles.
Charles, "I expect you boys would like an explanation."
Wayne, "You think?"
John, "Don't even think, 'need to know', you won't make the front door."
In all these years, this was the first time John threatened him. When John and Wayne were kids, they threatened each other on a regular basis, but, that's what boys do. They also sought each other's advice before asking their step father's and Charles accepted that. The boys were close, after all, their real father was dead and Charles came in as a stranger.
Charles, "All right, no need to get snotty." Charles pulled out a Cuban cigar, a recent habit he picked up from Merle and Bob, lit up and took a deep breath. Ira slid the single ash tray to him. "Your father was CIA before you were born. He was a field operative, covert, in Russia and the Eastern block countries. He was very good, too good in fact and the Russians had a contract out on him."
John, "I thought they weren't supposed to do that. Retaliation and all."
Charles, "That's true, but, if a field operative disappears on assignment, who's to know. The Russians were looking for him. On their territory, of course. Hands off when he was on our soil. Besides, he was getting up there in years and it was time for a change. So, the powers to be sent him to China where he met your mother and you know the rest. He recruited me while I was at Stanford and was sort of a mentor through the years."
Wayne, "Charles, that doesn't make any sense. You don't speak any Chinese."
