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  “Where is she now”

  “Submerged and running at a high rate of speed” Admiral O’Malley said.

  “East” the president interjected. “Our SOSUS (Sound Surveillance System) network picked up her footprint as she was coming out of the Malta Channel into the eastern Med. But then we lost her again. We’ve got half a dozen Orions up now searching the immediate area”

  “Any possibility this is a mistake” Murphy asked, somehow knowing that it wasn’t.

  “No” the admiral said. “I know the skipper JD. Webb personally. He’s a good man. But there is more”

  “Yes” Murphy said, holding himself in check. “We have the pleasure vessel that sent the SOS”

  “What does her crew say”

  “No crew. The boat was sabotaged, burned, and very nearly sunk. We found the remains of an automatic Morse code transmitter, and a canister which we believe contained Labun-a nerve gas. It was stolen nearly a year ago from Dugway Proving Grounds in Utah”

  “A canister” Murphy mumbled. “That we’ve found. Seven were stolen”

  “Terrorists”

  “Russians” the president said.

  Secretary of State Baldwin sat forward quickly. “We don’t know that for a fact, Mr. President”

  “Terrorists do not have the expertise to hijack a nuclear submarine, Jim” the president shot back. “What about the sub’s crew” Murphy asked.

  “We think there is a very good chance they’re all dead” O’Malley said.

  It was obvious he was having a difficult time holding his temper in check. A slight tic played at the corner of his right eye, and his knuckles were white as he clasped his hands tightly in front of him on the conference table. “From what we have been able to piece together so far, we think that whoever was manning the Zenzero lured the Indianapolis to the surface with the fake SOS. JD. would have sent someone over to check it out. They were most likely overpowered, and somehow the … hijackers managed to send the other canisters of Labun across to the sub”

  “Would that have killed the entire crew” The admiral nodded. “Unless Webb went to battle stations-which there was no need for him to do-the gas would have circulated throughout the boat’s common ventilation system within seconds”

  “Wouldn’t it have also killed the hijackers” Murphy asked. “it would have dissipated in under a minute” The information was staggering.

  Murphy was having a hard time digesting it. “Have there been any indications that the Russians were up to something like this, Roland”

  the president asked. Murphy could see in his eyes that he already knew the answer. “Baranov and Kurshin” the DCI said. “They managed With the Pershing out of Ramstein” He turned back to Admiral O’Malley. “Would Colonel Rand have had access to information about the Indianapolis”

  “The sonofabitch knew it all” O’Malley blurted. “Her technical data as well as her pat@ol station schedule! And he sold us down the fucking river”

  “Nothing from our intercepts has given any indication that such a thing was in the works” NSA Director Miller said. “They wouldn’t” Murphy replied thoughtfully. “If Kurshin has the boat, he’s obviously got a crew with him. They would have been brought out at least twenty-four hours before the actual hijacking. It’s possible they left a track.

  Where did the Zenzero come from”

  “Naples” O’Malley said. “Then they would have holed up either there or in Rome. Who’s in charge in Gaeta”

  “Ron Delugio. His intelligence staff is running it down in Naples right now”

  “In the meantime the Indianapolis, with nuclear weapons aboard, is heading east” the president said grimly. “She can be bottled up”

  “The Bosporus” O’Malley said. “Goddamnit, Mr. President, if you go ahead with any sort of a blockade a shooting war could start” Secretary of State Baldwin said. “It may already have started, Jim” the president said. “The Indianapolis is certainly capable of it. She will not, under any circumstances, be allowed into the Black Sea. Once she gets that far, we’ve lost her”

  “We cannot sit still and do nothing” Admiral O’Malley said through clenched teeth. “You’ve said yourself, Stewart, that the Soviet Navy is operating a portion of its Black Sea fleet in the eastern Med”

  “The Nimitz and her support group will remain in the area” O’Malley shot back. “The Baton Rouge and Phoenix will be standing by off the Dardanelles” They werr both Los Angeles-class attack submarines, the same as the Indianapolis. “With what orders, Admiral” the secretary of state demanded. “We’ll attempt to communicate with Indianapolis”

  “If there is no response”

  “We’ll kill her” Secretary of State Baldwin turned back to the president. “You can’t authorize this, Mr. President. In the name of God The president’s expression tightened. “As I’ve already said, Jim, I will not allow the Indianapolis to reach the Black Sea. It’s as simple as that”

  “Then a shooting war will begin”

  “That depends upon how badly they want her”

  “How badly do we want her back” Baldwin asked. “That much” the president replied, turning again to Murphy. “Get your Rome station on it immediately. So far we’ve only got speculation; we need proof linking the Zenzero to the Russians”

  “Yes, Mr. President” Murphy said. “And, Roland”

  “Sir”

  “I don’t care how you get it. Do you understand me” Yes, Mr. President.

  But if it is Kurshin, working under Bar’anov’s orders, then there is only one man for the job” The president nodded. “Where is he now”

  “East Berlin”

  “Can we get him out”

  “Yes. “Do it. We’ll reconsider that other matter as soon as this situation is resolved”

  “What are we talking about now” Secretary of State Baldwin asked, alarmed. The president ignored him. “But at this point, I’m inclined to give my go-ahead. Wholeheartedly CIA HEADQUARTERS On Murphy’s orders, Trotter had remained at the embassy in Athens to run interference for McGarvey should it become absolutely necessary. It was a long way from Berlin, but much closer than Washington was. “Pull him out” Murphy said when he had Trotter on the secure phone. “What’s going on, General”

  Trotter’s voice came over the encrypted line with only the slightest of interference. “I was just about to call you”

  “It’s Kurshinhe’s off and running again There’s no time to explain now, John. Just get McGarvey down to Naples. I’ll have the package sent over to you, and you can handcarry it down there to him. He’ll be working with Admiral Ron Delugio, who is CINCMED out of Gaeta”

  “We’re going to blow a lot of resources in East Berlin pulling him out”

  Trotter said. “And there’s another problem”

  “Go ahead” Murphy said, girding himself. “It’s Lorraine Abbott. She slipped away from Yablonski at the Athens airport”

  “Why wasn’t I told”

  “We weren’t sure what was going on here, General. But we managed to trace her to West Berlin where she registered at a hotel”

  “Did she follow McGarvey”

  “Evidently”

  “Well, get her the hell out of there”

  “She’s gone”

  “What do you mean, gone”

  Murphy shouted. “Her suitcase and things are still in her room. She’s simply disappeared, I think it’s a real possibility that Baranov’s people snatched her. And you know what that means” Murphy did. It meant simply that Baranov had somehow been tipped off that McGarvey would be coming across to assassinate him. It meant their worst fear-that there was a leak at high levels within the Agency-was true. Mentally he ran down the list of those who knew about the operation. It was depressingly small, and dangerous. “Pull him out of there, John” Murphy said, making his decision. “But don’t tell him about Lorraine Abbott”

  “Christ” Trotter swore. “You can say that again” Murphy replied.

/>   EAST BERLIN

  Something woke McGarvey from a deep, dreamless sleep.

  He-looked at his watch. It was a few minutes before five in the morning.

  From where he lay on the couch beneath the partially open window he could hear absolutely no sounds from outside, nor were there any sounds from within the apartment building. He’d returned from the Grosser Miiggelsee around midnight, and had listened as the building gradually quieted down for the evening. Background noise. He’d finally fallen asleep around two. Sitting up, he looked out the window down at the street. A few automobiles and a small truck were parked along the curb as before. Nothing new. No one had come, and yet he felt a presence that was out of place.

  Something. Then he heard it again. A noise out in the corridor, as if someone had shifted his weight, the floorboards creaking slightly.

  Snatching his gun, he slipped the safety to the off position and padded across the tiny living room to the door. Someone was out there. He was certain of it. For a single crazy moment he had a vision of Lorraine Abbott coming across the border, sorliehow finding this place and coming up here. But that was impossible. Very carefully he switched the gun to his left hand and with his right eased the door lock open. He stepped aside, out of the line of fire in case whoever was out there shot through the door. “Wer ist” he asked softly. At first there was nothing, but then something thumped softly against the door frame. He stood flat-footed, listening, straining to make some sense of what was going on out in the corridor. He thought he might be hearing someone breathing heavily, but again he could not be certain. Switching his gun back to his right hand, he twisted the doorknob and all of a sudden yanked the door open. A very large, barrelchested man dressed in workmen’s clothes reared back from the wall against which he had been leaning. McGarvey got the instant impression that the man was in pain, and that he was terrified, and then he saw the coat, and the small hole blood staining the side of the man’s coat fabric “McGarvey he breathed hoarsely. No one else was in the corridor, and he didn’t think they had made enough noise to rouse the building. Whoever this one was, he certainly wasn’t the opposition. But he was definitely in trouble.

  McGarvey stepped out into the corridor and, stuffing the big gun in his belt, helped the wounded man inside, easing him down on the couch. He closed and relocked the door, and then closed the window, drawing the curtains tight before turning on the small table lamp. The man’s complexion was deathly pale. It was obvious he had lost a lot of blood.

  His left arm hung useless at his side, and his eyes seemed to focus and unfocus. He was struggling not to lay his head back, but he would not remain conscious for very long.

  “Hold on” McGarvey whispered urgently. He hurried into the small bathroom where he grabbed several bath towels, bringing them back and stuffing them inside the man’s coat against the gunshot wound in his side, just below his left armpit. “McGarvey the man whispered hoarsely.

  “You must get out of East Berlin. Tonight, before it is too late”

  “Who are you”

  “Reinhardt Geiger” the big man stammered. “Lighthouse I’m from the network … I was sent He was wracked with a spasm of pain that cut his words off. LIGHTHOUSE was the Agency’s most important network in East Berlin. It had been going on for a lot of years. McGarvey seemed to remember that the KGB’s operation at the Horst Wessel Barracks and in the embassy itself had been infiltrated. The network was mostly workmen, building-maintenance people, along with a few pool typists and secretaries. Their product had never been spectacular, but it had always been steady. “Who sent you” McGarvey asked. “My control officer … one name … he gave me one name. John Trotter” McGarvey sat forward, his gut clenching. “What about Trotter? Is my operation to be called off “

  “You must get out of East Berlin immediately. They are waiting for you on the other side. Important … Trotter … very important”

  “Who shot you”

  “They’re waiting for you … on the other side. They are expecting you … Wedding … the Wedding Crossing”

  “Was it KGB” McGarvey asked urgently. Geiger suddenly reared up and grabbed McGarvey’s arm. “They know about me. They know I received a message. They will come here …

  McGarvey, you must leave immediately “You’re coming with me McGarvey started to say when the breath went out of Geiger in a big blubbering spray of blood, and he slumped forward into McGarvey’s arms. He was dead. For a moment McGarvey just sat there, his thoughts racing in a dozen different directions, all of them down long, dark alleys. Trotter would have known how risky it was to use someone from LIGHTHOUSE to make contact. The network was important. it meant that whatever reason they wanted him out of East Berlin had to be of overriding importance.

  Kurshin. The single name crystallized in his brain. He had gotten the data from Rand in Washington, and he had escaped. He was on the move again, his target still En Gedi. He eased Geiger’s body back on the couch and checked out the window again. Still nothing moved below. He had parked his car on another side street a block away. If he could reach it before the KGB showed up he figured he just might have a chance of getting free. But a bitter feeling rose up inside of him that once again he was going to have to back away from Baranov. Once again the man was safe. It was galling.

  The streets of East Berlin were coming alive in the predawn darkness as delivery trucks began making their rounds, and early shift workmen headed to their offices and factories. McGarvey sat in his Fiat on Wisbyer Strasse a block from the bright lights of the Wedding Crossing.

  In the five minutes he had been there he’d watched two cars and one panel truck crossing into the west. Nothing had come the other way. He had taken the time to clean out the apartment, wiping it down for his fingerprints, though he could not be one hundred percent sure he’d gotten them all. He had also made certain that Geiger had carried nothing incriminating with him. Whatever happened now, he supposed that LIGHTHOUSE would have to be closed down, its people pulled out. Again he was struck with the desperation that Trotter must have felt in order to take such extraordinary measures. No one else had shown up at the apartment by the time he had left, nor had he run into any trouble on the short drive up here. But if there was to be trouble, it was going to happen at the crossing. The big pistol was stuffed in his belt at the small of his back. It was uncomfortable driving with it like that, but if he needed the gun, he wanted instant access to it. Putting the Fiat in gear, he eased out behind a truck that turned left on Schonhauser Strasse just before the crossing. He went straight ahead, slowing and stopping under the bright lights, as two soldiers came out of their shelter. He passed out his Kurshin identification. Geiger had said nothing about it. But McGarvey understood that it was possible his cover had been blown. “The purpose of your visit to West Berlin this morning, sir” one guard asked. The other was looking at him, his eyes narrowed.

  “That is none of your business, Sergeant” McGarvey snapped in German.

  The guard stiffened. McGarvey took out his KGB identification booklet and flipped it open. The guard recognized it immediately for what it was, and his attitude changed. So did the other guard’s. “I’m sorry, Comrade Colonel” the young man said, handing McGarvey’s passport back.

  “You may pass”

  “Of course I may” McGarvey barked sharply. “Now, be quick about it”

  The soldiers stepped away, and without a backward glance, McGarvey eased the Fiat across to the West. The street opened up, and forty yards across the no-man’s-land, he pulled up at the western barriers This was the French sector of the city. Two French soldiers came out.

  “Kirk McGarvey. You were expecting me” One of the guards glanced over his shoulder back at the guardhouse. In the semidarkness McGarvey could just make out the form of a man standing there. He nodded. The soldier turned back. “Yes, sir. You are to drive immediately down to Tempelhof Airport. Someone will meet you at Operations Building B”

  “Who”

  “I don
’t know, sir. But welcome back. “Yeah” McGarvey said. “Thanks”

  WEST BERLIN

  Operations Building B was on the military side of the big airport in the American sector of the city McGarvey was met in front by an Air Force captain who was not wearing a name tag. He had been expected; the call had come from the Wedding Checkpoint. “What’s this all about” McGarvey asked” I couldn’t say, sirthe captain said.

  “If you’ll just come with me, we have a Learjet waiting on the apron “Where are we going”

  “Naples, sir. And they want you down there on the double” The captain seemed almost afraid to look too closely at McGarvey “Do you have to take a pee or something first, sir”

  “It’ll wait.

  NAPLES

  The morning sun sparkled brightly on the Bay of Naples as the L4ealjet came in over the water for her final approach, the Air Force captain handling the little plane as if it were a toy. As soon as they had touched down and had completed their landing roll, they turned onto a taxiway and headed toward a hangar on the private aviation side of the airport, bypassing customs and immigration. John Trotter and another, much younger, heavier man, also dressed in civilian clothes, were waiting for him inside. By the time McGarvey had walked through the door, the Learjet was already heading over to the fuel pumps. The captain would be taking her immediately back to West Berlin. Trotter was strung out, the other one was clearly impatient. “Did you have any trouble, Kirk” Trotter asked. McGarvey looked pointedly at the other one. “It’s all right” Trotter said. “This is Lieutenant Commander Malcolm Ainslie. Naval Intelligence. He’s in on the entire thing”

  “Is it Kurshin again” Trotter nodded. “I think so” He looked toward the stairs at the back of the hangar. “We’ve got a place to talk upstairs.

  You’ve got a lot of catching up to do”

  “Why here”

  “We figured we’d attract less attention out here than in town” Ainslie said. His accent was East Coast, almost British. He seemed competent, but McGarvey could see in his eyes that he was as shook up as Trotter, and very angry. “Geiger is dead”