“You say the civilians have been pulled out. Clear the rest of your men except for one volunteer sharpshooter who can hit the plastique. And blow it now before it’s too late”
“It would spread radioactive materials for hundreds of yards”
Collingwood growled. “There would be a three-block area of no-man’s-land for a long time to come”
“Yes” McGarvey said, watching the missile rise. “And probably a number of casualties. An increase in the cancer rate over the next twenty or thirty years. The news media would be on your ass. The Pentagon would probably set you out to dry. You’d be a scapegoat”
“You’re goddamned right.
“What do you suppose five hundred kilotons is going to do when it explodes on whatever target they’ve programmed it for”
“They won’t launch it” Collingwood said, but he wasn’t as sure as he had been a moment earlier. McGarvey looked at him again. “Yes they will, unless we stop them”
“Is it Kurshin” Trotter asked. “I don’t know for sure” McGarvey admitted. “I think so, but he’s wearing a damned good disguise. Had to if he was able to fool the people at the base”
“We can’t destroy that missile here, Kirk” Trotter said emphatically.
Collingwood was closely watching the exchange. McGarvey turned back to him. “If they do launch it, what’s the possibility of shooting it down”
“About one in a thousand” Again McGarvey stared at the missile which by now was nearly at the vertical. “Well, I’d suggest that you inform your people to at least give it a try in case we fail here and that thing actually gets airborne. That was a logic the colonel could understand.
“Will do” he said, and he turned to his radioman and began issuing orders. McGarvey raised his binoculars and slowly began to search the entire square foot by foot, from the front of the train station all the way across to the missile transporter. It was Kurshin. He could feel it in his bones. Trotter had reported that the French police had indeed discovered a mutilated body along the railroad tracks fifty miles east of Paris. “Along the same line that Brad Allworth took to get here”
Trotter had said. That fact clinched it in McGarvey’s mind. But that meant that Kurshin had had some very good intelligence information. He’d known Brad Allworth’s orders, what he looked like, and what train he would be on. He also had the information needed to reprogram the missile. It was not beyond Baranov, coming up with such information. But the risks he had taken to get the data, and then so openly display that fact here like this, meant Baranov had a very large prize in mind. A very large prize indeed. “Get the city engineer here” McGarvey said.
Kurshin and the other man went around to the side of the transporter, the hatch opened and they climbed inside. “What” Trotter asked. “The city engineer” McGarvey repeated. “I know how Kurshin means to escape.
ABOARD THE MISSILE TRANSPORTER
It was coming up on fifteen minutes before eight. Night had fallen, but the transporter was bathed in lights that had been hastily strung up around the perimeter of the square and on some of the rooftops. Shadows were long. Where there wasn’tlight, the darkness by contrast was almost absolute. Schey had pulled the main panel from the fire control board where he had worked with a test instrument and a soldering pencil for the past half hour. He sat back and looked up, an expression of satisfaction on his face. “There” he said. “It is finished” Kurshin swiveled around and looked into the tangle of wires behind the panel. A small electronic device had been wired into the firing circuitry. “Once the fire switch is thrown, the delay circuitry will give us ten minutes to make our escape, no more” Schey said.
Yegorov had been watching as well. “What if we are delayed” he asked.
The East German managed another of his pinched smiles. “Then it will be too bad for us, because there is no way of reversing the firing order”
“Pull out the wires” Schey shook his head. “Any tampering with the circuitry from that point will cause the missile to immediately fire”
Baranov had insisted that Schey be a part of the team. Kurshin could see why now. Not only did he have the technical expertise to pull it off, but he also had nerves of steel. Nothing seemed to agitate him. But then again he had no love for the Jews. Kurshin glanced at his watch. “Put it back together and change your clothes” he told Schey. He got up and went to the back of the transporter where he pulled out the civilian clothes that Yegorov had brought along. The other Russian joined him, a broad grin on his face. “Fuck your mother, but the bastards will never know what hit them” Kurshin took off the uniform blouse and laid it aside. He handed Yegorov a small minor. “Hold this up” Taking a handful of skin at the back of his neck, Kurshin dug his fingernails in and ripped it apart, tearing it below his shirt collar and opening his scalp all the way up the back of his head. Yegorov let out a small chuckle.
Pulling the hair and skin apart, Kurshin carefully pulled the latex life mask forward off his cheeks and temples, and then straight up from his chin, the rubber making sucking and tearing sounds as it peeled away from his real flesh. He’d worn the mask for twenty-four hours now and the suddenly cool air on his face felt wonderful. Big patches of glue and latex were stuck on his face. He cleaned these off with a towel dipped in alcohol. When he was finished, he took out the contact lenses that made his eyes blue, revealing his own pale green eyes. Yegorov lowered the mirror, They looked into each other’s eyes. “it has been a pleasure working with you, Comrade” Yegorov said so softly that Schey could not hear him. “What about him”
Kurshin’s cold eyes flicked to the East German who was just finishing with the panel. “Leave him to me”
“He is excess baggage now. Dangerous to us” Kurshin nodded. “Yes”
Something in Kurshin’s eyes, however, made Yegorov back down. “As you say” he mumbled respectfully, and they finished changing into their civilian business suits in silence. Schey worked his way back and hurriedly changed his clothes as Kurshin went forward and sat down in the righthand bucket seat. He turned on the radio, but waited until the other two were ready. They looked at each other in silence, and then Kurshin picked up the microphone. “Colonel Collingwood, this is Flybaby Six-P-Two. Do you copy”
“That’s affirmative” Collingwood’s voice came back. “Our demands are simple, but you have only sixty minutes from this moment to comply with them or we will fire the missile. Do you understand this”
“We understand”
“First, we will require one of your Cobra gunship helicopters to land here on the square within twenty meters of this transporter. Only the pilot and copilot must be aboard. No other crew”
“Go on” Collingwood radioed, and they could hear the tightness in his voice. “Secondly, we will require one million US. dollars in gold bullion. This can be arranged within the hour through the Credit Suisse Bank here in Kaiserslautern. The gold is to be loaded aboard the gunship”
“Do you realize how much that will weigh … “
“Yes” Kurshin said. “At the current rate of four hundred thirty-eight dollars per ounce, that comes out to a little less than one hundred forty-three pounds. I believe that will present no burden on your helicopter”
“I will see what I can do” Collingwood radioed. “But one hour may not be enough time”
“I sincerely hope it is, Colonel, for your sake. Believe me” Kurshin said. There was a longish silence on the radio. “What else” Collingwood finally radioed. ““That is all” Kurshin replied. “At exactly 2100 hours, I and my crew shall step out of the transporter, cross to the helicopter, and the crew will fly us across the East German border. Your crew, should they not misbehave, will be allowed to return unhamied to the West. The helicopter will remain behind”
“No, you listen to me, you bastard” Collingwood shouted, finally losing control. “No, Colonel, you listen to me very carefully” Kurshin responded calmly. “You have two further items to consider before you make your decision. The first is the plastique that we have placed around the body of the missile. It has been rewired to be exploded not only by our triggering mechanism, but also by a signal transmitted over a common military frequency. A frequency that the Cobra helicopter you are sending us is capable of transmitting on. From a long distance. If anything untoward should happen we will not hesitate to send such a signal” When Collingwood came back on the radio he was subdued. “You mentioned two items”
“It would be most unfortunate if we were to find that any of the helicopter’s electronic equipment … its radio equipment … had been tampered with”
“The second item, you sonofabitch. “Yes. The second is that the missile firing control has also been rewired to a similar set of signals. We will be able to fire it from a long ways out. And, once we have left the IT vicinity, should you decide to make an attempt at disarming either the plastique or the missile firing mechanisms, you will be in for a nasty surprise. Very nasty”
