by now that trying to hold a secret is more difficult than trying to hold water in your hands?
Ultimately impossible”
“Then the weapons must be moved”
“I agree. But this will take time, which you and Mr. McGarvey will provide for us” Potok sat forward. “What”
“The Russians apparently have a source within the Pentagon, someone the CIA has code-named Feliks. You and Mr. McGarvey are going to return to Washington to find this leak and plug it” Potok was shaking his head in disbelief. “I don’t understand “The information that the Russians needed to reprogram the Pershing missile to strike En Gedi came from this Pentagon source”
“Surely they won’t try to steal another missile” Potok argued. “Every American installation in the world will be watching for just such an attempt”
“Perhaps you are right, Lev, perhaps not. The real issue, now ever, is somewhat more complicated. Valentin Baranov has planned this strike.
Your Mr. McGarvey stopped him two years ago. Once he learns that Mcgarvey is again trying to interfere with one of his operations, the Russians will almost certainly go after him. “He will be a marked man”
“Yes, but a man not to be underestimated. Once the Russians are drawn out, it will be up to the two of you to stop them. “I’m to work with him, then”
“For him” Shamir corrected. “It is a strange world, isn’t it”
Kurshin could hardly believe his ears.
He was seated in the embassy’s basement communications room where he had come to find out about the American bitch, Lorraine Abbott, and now he was being told that she and McGarvey had left Israel. “You are sure” he asked. Yes, Comrade” Piotrovsky said. “I watched them board the flight for Paris” Why?
Kurshin asked himself. First McGarvey had disappeared. Then the woman had been arrested, and now the two of them were on their way to Paris.
It made no sense. “Can you get aboard that flight”
“No”
“Then we will have lost them” Kurshin screamed. “Pardon me, Comrade, but we do have resources in Paris. It should be a simple matter to trail them from there” The bastard was correct, of course. But Kurshin still could not get rid of the vision of McGarvey pulling the Pershing’s plugs, just as he might have unplugged a night light.
They were not going to Paris, though. It was just a way point for them.
Kurshin was almost one hundred percent convinced they were returning to Washington. “Make certain they do not go into Paris. They’ll probably be switching planes. For Washington. Do you understand”
“Yes, Comrade. “Once they have left French soil your job will be done”
Kurshin slammed down the telephone. Within twenty-four hours, forty-eight at the most, they would be dead. Both of them. He would see to it himself.
They’d switched planes at Paris’s Orly airport and as on the first leg of the trip, Lorraine Abbott maintained an uneasy silence.
They traveled first class, and crossing the Atlantic she managed to get a few hours’ sleep or at least pretended to. She was angry that she had been pulled into this situation against her will, and now it would probably mean that her career would be sidetracked. The moment they got home, she’d told him even before they’d left the ground at Lod, she would go directly up to the NPT Inspection Service’s office at the UN in New York, make her report, and then try her best to forget the ugly incident had ever occurred. The pilot switched on the 747’s No Smoking and Fasten Seatbelt signs, and McGarvey gently nudged her. Her eyes came open immediately, and she glared at him. “We’re coming in. Put on your seatbelt” McGarvey said. She glanced out the window before she did as he told her. He studied the back of her head for that moment. She had a right to be angry, he thought. He had placed her life, and certainly her career, in jeopardy. Even though she was an NPT field inspector whose job it was to find out such things, her knowledge of what was really happening at En Gedi placed her in danger. He was going to have to ask Trotter to have the Agency do something for her. At least until this business was taken care of. At least she had called the general before her arrest. It’s what had started the wheels in motion. Potok had not returned, but an hour after he had left, McGarvey’s personal belongings had been returned to him, and he had been driven directly to the VIP lounge at the airport. They’d picked up his bag from his hotel. About his gun no one would comment. Lorraine had shown up a couple of minutes later, just as surprised to see him as he had been to see her. “Are you all right” he had asked when they were alone for just a second or two.
“No thanks to you” she’d snapped, her eyes straying to the thick bandage on his head. “What did you tell them”
“Nothing” she said. “Because that’s exactly what I know” She turned away. It was just two in the afternoon when they touched down at Dulles Airport, and McGarvey went with Lorraine down the jetway into customs. A young man in a three-piece suit directed them away from the counters, and through a door that led directly out into the terminal. “We have a car waiting for you” he said. “Will either of you be needing medical assistance”
“Who are you” McGarvey asked pointedly, before Lorraine could say anything.
“Oh, sorry, sir” the young man said. He dug out his Agency identification. His name was Stanley Barker. “Mr. Trotter sent me out to pick you up”
“That’s just fine” Lorraine said. “Now if you will just excuse me, I’ve got to see about a flight to New York”
“I’m sorry, ma’am” Barker said, a little embarrassed. “But my instructions were to pick up both of you”
“I demand.
“Ma’am, Mr. O’Sheay is waiting for you. He asked me to assure you that all of your questions will be answered”
“Mark is here, in Washington”
“Yes, ma’am. In the area. I have a car just outside” She looked at McGarvey, a smug little grin of satisfaction on her lips. McGarvey figured she was going to get her answers, but they probably would not be ones she would care to hear. Crossing the terminal McGarvey spotted at least three men who were probably FBI surveillance people, and he allowed himself to relax for the first time since they’d left Israel.
All the way across he’d gotten the uncomfortable feeling that the operation had been too loose. They had simply been kicked out of the country and left to fend for themselves. Considering the nature of his assignment, and the fact that they were carrying around in their heads the literal future of Israel, he had expected to be shadowed. But until now he had picked out no one. Outside, a dark gray Taurus pulled up.
Barker got in the front, and they got in the backseat. McGarvey spotted at least two surveillance cars, one in the rear and one in the lead.
Barker turned in his seat as they pulled away from the curb. “Your bags will be brought along shortly, not to worry” he said. “Where are we going” McGarvey asked. “Falmouth”
“What” Lorraine asked, sitting forward. “That’s in Virginia”
“Yes, ma’am, about fifty miles south of here”
“Goddamnit, you said that Mark O’Sheay would be meeting us”
“He’s down there waiting for you,’” Barker said. “Believe me, Dr.
Abbott, this is for the best. You’ll understand once it’s explained to you”
“Has anyone been spotted coming in” McGarvey asked. Barker looked at him through lidded eyes. He finally shook his head. “We don’t think so.
Leastways, we haven’t spotted any unusual activity. If they’re there, they are good”
“You can count on it” McGarvey said, relaxing back in his seat and lighting a cigarette. Lorraine had followed the exchange. “What’s going on” she cried. “You bastards, someone tell me what’s going on”
“Yes, ma’am, as soon as we get there”
“And stop calling me ma’am” she screeched.
The safehouse was on a ninety-acre farm a few miles outside the small town, the Rappahannock River bordering the property to the south.
The house itself was a two-story colonial built on the crest of a hill with a clear view in three directions. The
