full thirty seconds before hanging up and turning to Baranov. “What crisis now, Petr Nikolaievich” Baranov asked He Was a short, extremely stocky man, with a barrel chest, a thick bulldog neck, and a huge head. But his voice was as soft as a gentle wind through a graveyard, and his eyes always seemed to hold a hint of amusement. “It is White Knight. He has attempted to make contact. Direct contact”
WHITE KNIGHT was the code name of Baranov’s personal source in Washington. They’d worked together for a lot of years. “What was he told”
“To stand by for the usual procedure” Borisov replied. Despite his nearness to Baranov, even he did not know WHITE KNIGHT’s true identity.
Baranov shared that with no one.
“Very good” Baranov said, and he settled back in his seat. It was about McGarvey, he was certain of it. Considering what was happening at this very moment in the Mediterranean-did the CIA already know about the Indianapolis? — this call was extremely important. Baranov’s apartment sprawled over the entire top floor of a twenty-five-story apartment building a few blocks from where Leonid Brezhnev had once lived. His private study was directly in the middle of the apartment, with no windows to the outside. The room, and its telephone equipment, was as secure from eavesdropping, electronic or otherwise, as Soviet technical abilities could make it. When he was alone, he made his call. It was answered on the first ring.
“it is me” Baranov said. “What is the matter”
“It is McGarvey” a man said. There was no mistaking his voice. “He has been sent to East Berlin to kill you. It will happen on Thursday night, after the reception. He will be coming across the lake … actually beneath the lake” Baranov smiled. “I will be most happy to finally come face to face with him. Thank you, my old friend”
“There is more”
“Yes”
“The scientist, Dr. Abbott. She is missing”
“Any idea where she might have gotten herself to” Baranov asked, very interested by this latest development. “No, but it would be my guess that she’s followed McGarvey, or tried to”
“is there a thing, then, between them” Baranov asked. Kurshin had mentioned something about it. “I believe so. I thought you should know”
“Yes, thank you. Now, sit tight, my friend. No matter what happens in the next twenty-four hours or so, sit very tight”
“I know”
“No you don’t” Baranov said softly. “But you will”
No sign had been found of the Indianapolis despite eight hours of continuous searching in ever-expanding circles. The DSRV (Deep Submergence Rescue Vehicle) had been on standby mode from the moment they’d arrived on station, but with no target on the sea floor she had not been sent down.
There was debris, of course the Pigeon’s sophisticated sonar systems had picked up the wreckage of what appeared to be an old ship, possibly even Roman, but so far they’d found nothing even approaching the mass of the submarine. The Lorrel-E, still claiming her right of salvage, continued to stand by Her crew had managed to cool the Zenzero down enough so that they were able to get aboard with several pumps to keep her from sinking. An explosion somewhere in the vicinity of the engine room had blown a small hole in her hull, but so far the pumps had been able to keep up with the flow rate. The Zenzero would not sink, unless the pumps failed, but at this point she was unstable and could capsize at any moment, especially if the wind and seas were to pick up, which they were forecast to do sometime during the night. Captain Parus was turning. He had been on the radiotelephone almost continuously with the owners in Athens who in turn were trying to put pressure on the US. Navy through the Italian government. “We’ve got company, Skipper” the radio on the Pigeon’s bridge blared. Lieutenant Commander Charles Wells hit the comms switch. “What have you got, Jim”
“Looks like a Hormone-B, coming in fast from the southsouthwest”
Lieutenant James Powers, their ESM (Electronic Surveillance Measures) officer, replied. Wells picked up his binoculars, stepped out onto the starboard porch, and began scanning the horizon. The Hormoneb was the Soviet Navy’s updated version of the Kamov Ka-25 search helicopter. She was used to provide a real-time data link for over-the-horizon targeting and midcourse guidance for missiles from Soviet guided missile cruisers.
He had been warned that a Slava-class cruiser was in the area. They were probably coming for a quick look- see, which was to be expected. He had it, low on the horizon and incoming very fast. It was definitely a Hormone-B, he could make out the chopper’s unique triple-tail. Back on the bridge, Wells hit the comms switch. “It’s definitely a Hormone-B, Jim, which means the Slava will be somewhere just over the horizon. Are you picking up anything”
“The chopper is scanning us, Skipper. But nothing from her mother ship”
“Right, keep a close watch. I’m sending up our helo to take a quick peek”
“Roger. Wells picked up his red phone, which in this case provide him with a direct encrypted link with Sixth Fleet Headquarters. Kenneth Reid in operations answered. “Ken, Charlie Wells here. You’d better let me speak wit Admiral Delugio”
“How’s it look out there”
“Nothing yet, but we’ve got company”
“Right. I’ll get him” Reid said, and a moment late Delugio was on the line. “Is it the Slava” the admiral asked without preamble. “Yes, sir.
One of her Honnone-Bs is incoming right now”
“We expected that, Charlie. What about the Indianapolis Any trace”
“Not a thing, Admiral. We’ve expanded our grid twent: miles out and ten miles in. Usual seafloor litter, but nothin@ to send the DSRV down for.
The Indianapolis is just not here”
“Damn” Delugio swore softly’what about the Zen zero, Charlie, can You tow her”
“Yes, sir. But Captain Parus is raising a lot of hell”
“I don’t give a rat’s ass, Charlie. Shoot the sonofabitch if he gets in your way. I want that cruiser back here as soon as you can bring her in”
“There’s a danger she’ll capsize under tow. I’d like to put a couple of men aboard to look around first.’, “Do that. All we know so far is that JD. responded to our SOS, and now he’s missing”
“Yes, sir” Wells said glumly. “If you find anything, anything at all, Charlie, let me know immediately. Have you got that”
“Aye, aye, sir”
“All right, good luck”
“Sir, I’m sending a helo Out to take a look at that Slava. “Good idea.
Scan the living shit out of them. Let them know we don’t like them playing around on our turf”
“Yes, sir” Wells said and he hung up the red phone and turned to his executive officer, Lieutenant Tom Lawson, a lanky kid from Texas, who was just turning away from the ship’s comms.
“The chopper is already airborne, Skipper” he said. “Good. I want you to take an auxiliary over to the Zenzero and look around. We’re going to tow her back to Gaeta this afternoon before the wind picks up Lawson’s eyes narrowed. “We’re giving up here” Wells nodded. “Looks like it.
You’d better take Randy along. I I Lieutenant jg. Randy Tanner was the DSRV’s skipper, and an expert on salvage. “What are we looking for”
“First of all I want to know if she’ll survive the tow, but I want you to keep your eyes open for anything … anything at all”
“Sir”
“The Indianapolis responded to an SOS from the Zenzero, and now she’s missing. Just keep your eyes open”
“What about the Lorrel-E”
“They won’t give you any trouble, Tom. I can guarantee it”
“Yes, sir”
Lawson said, and he turned and left the bridge as Wells picked up the radiotelephone. “Get me the skipper of the Lorrel-Ehe told his radioman.
