Kurshin’s eyes narrowed, though he understood the reason. “Now” the officer snappedkurshin did as he was told. He had taken the bandage off the wound high on his thigh. It was puckered and an angry red color.
One of the others stepped a little closer and looked at the wound. “It’s real” he said. The first officer lowered his gun. “Well, I don’t think the Americans would shoot one of their own people just to infiltrate us”
“Captain Makayev” Kurshin asked, pulling up his trousers. “At your service, Comrade Colonel” Captain First Rank Nikolai Gerasimovich Makayev said, and they shook hands. “When do we get out of here”
“Tonight” Kurshin said, looking at the other five men. “I have a camper van parked a couple of blocks from here. We’ll be leaving in singles and pairs, so we won’t attract too much attention to ourselves”
“Our orders”
“Not until we’re at sea” Captain Makayev nodded. It was a sensible rule that they all understood, though they had not been told very much about this assignment, other than that it would be extremely dangerous, but that those who returned would be well re warded. Each man in his own way was in very. great need of such rewards. “Now introduce me to the others, Captain” Makayev nodded. “You’ve already met my executive officer, Captain Second Rank Gennadi Gavrilovich Fedorenko”
He was the officer who had patted Kurshin down. He seemed very self-assured. They shook hands. “And our ship’s doctor, Avenir Akimovich Velikanov. He and Kurshin shook hands. “That wound of yours should be covered, Colonel” he said. “I’ll let you see to it once we’re out of here” Kurshin said. The doctor was an alcoholic, but he was competent enough for what he had to do, which after all would not involve saving lives. “Our nuclear engineer, Captain Second Rank Ivan Pavlovich Abalakin. Our missile man, Lieutenant Aleksei Sergeevich Chobotov, and our boy genius sonannan, Lieutenant Aleksandr Ivanovich Rama” Kurshin shook hands with them as well. “You all have experience on Alpha-class boats”
“Yes, sircaptain Makayev said, his eyes shining. “And we’re anxious to get to work”
“There’ll be plenty of it for you to do, Captain, believe me. And very soon.
McGarvey stood on a windsweirr rocky promontory looking out across the azure Aegean Sea toward the mainland fifty miles to the northwest. He was winded and sweating under the fierce Greek summer sun and the breeze felt good on his legs and bare torso. He was running five miles a day now, up and down the craggy paths around the tiny rock-strewn island. A dozen families of Greek fishermen lived in a tiny village on the north side of the island, leaving him in relative isolation on the south side where he had taken up residence in an abandoned lighthouse. For the past few days he had known that someone would be coming. He had felt it in his bones. It was a common feeling for him, which had saved his life on more than one occasion(Pic out the small hydrofoil boat while it was still eight or ten miles out, by its long, creamy wake. Now it was barely a mile off the ancient stone dock in the village below. He had been brought here to this island the same way a month ago, and now someone was coming to him. Unconsciously he touched the healing scar on the small of his back to the right of his spine. Kurshin’s bullet had destroyed one of his kidneys and it had been removed that night in the Bethesda Naval Hospital. He had nearly bled to death on the operating table, and still a weakness would come over him at the odd moment. But he had been lucky, once again. How long would that hold? Turning, he started down from the crest of the hill toward the lighthouse two miles away, running lightly so as not to jar his back, but easily because it felt good to be alive and functioning again.
At first an old woman had come up from the village to help tend to his wound and cook his meals. But after the first week he had hiked across the island, showing up at the small tavern. After that he had been left alone; going into the village only once a week for food, newspapers, and other supplies. A week ago the doctor from Sfros on his monthly rounds had come up to see him, pronouncing him reasonably fit for light exercise. But by then he had already been running every day. The lighthouse was perched on a sheer cliff that dropped ninety feet to the sea. A narrow path led to a stone bridge across to it. Inside, McGarvey wiped off his face with a towel, and in his bedroom pulled out his Walther automatic, checked its action, and went back outside, across the bridge, and up the path beyond where it branched off toward the village.
It was just noon, and his stomach was rumbling. With all his work, and the fresh sea air and his daily swims before dinner, he had built up a healthy appetite. But who was coming. a very few people new But as on that night at the hospital, he had the feeling that Kurshin had another source of information. Someone other than FELIKS in the Pentagon.
Someone in the Agency. He climbed farther up the hill where he took up a position from which he could see the village path. By now the hydrofoil would have landed, and if someone were coming UP here to him, they would be showing up soon. Paranoia, the thought came to him as it often had over the past few years. Mistrust. Suspicion. Once he’d thought he knew something about honor, but in this business the opposite seemed true just as often. A lone figure appeared at the crest of the hill and started down the long side, moving slowly, awkwardly. He was dressed in dark slacks and a light-colored shirt, but it wasn’t until he got a little closer that McGarvey could see he walked with a limp and was using a cane. He knew who it was. Stuffing the pistol in the waistband of his shorts, he scrambled down the hill and went back up to the path.
Trotter was just coming around the corner, and he stopped as McGarvey came up. I saw the boat coming in, but I didn’t know who it was, McGarvey said. Trotter’s eyes went to the pistol. He nodded. “How are you doing, Kirk”
“Better. You”
“They gave me a plastic hip. We’ll see how it turns Trotter glanced up toward the lighthouse. “Anyway, I’ll be back in the office on Monday “
“There’s been nothing in the papers about En Gedi. “No” Trotter said.
He nodded toward the lighthouse’ “Let’s go inside. It was a long hike up from the village. I’d like to sit down”
“Sure” McGarvey said, leading the way. There was an awkwardness between them that he was having difficulty getting a handle on. He could usually anticipate his old friend, this time he didn’t know. They sat on the stone veranda overlooking the sea.
, o ives, sausages, and feta cheese. On this side of the island the afternoons were pleasant. “You hit him, you know” Trotter said.
“Kurshin”
“Yes. We found blood at the back doorway, and then across the clearing to where the helicopter was parked. We found it back in Alexandria with a lot of blood in the cockpit. The Agency had debriefed him in the hospital but had refused to answer any of his questions. “No sign of him from that point” Trotter shook his head. “He definitely didn’t return to the embassy; the Bureau was watching the place around the clock.
“Then he’s disappeared again”
“He hasn’t been spotted anywhere. Not Moscow, not East Berlin”
“What about the other two men at the house”
“Baranov’s Department Viktor people. Some of the best. They’re both dead, of course. “What’s been done about it, John” McGarvey asked.
“Until now we haven’t done anything like that on each other’s MA. At least not directly as a KGB operation”
“I don’t know” Trotter admitted. “Ultimately that’s the president’s decision”
“But” McGarvey said sharply. Trotter hunched his shoulders as he sipped his wine. He looked out to sea again. Other islands dotted the horizon.
“I owe you my life. Kurshin would have killed us all”
“But he accomplished his objective. He got to Rand and most Rely he got the information he’d come for”
“We’re not so sure, Kirk. The reason you haven’t read anything about En Gedi is because absolutely nothing has happened. June thirtieth came and went without incident. For all we know Kurshin could be dead somewhere.
And maybe Rand’s disk is with his body”
“Any idea what was on it”
“No.
I don’t know that either. Our lines of communication have been severely curtailed. But I do know that Lev Potok will be all right, again thanks to you”
“Which leaves Baranov” McGarvey said, beginning to understand finally.
