foredeck where they ducked beneath the false crates.
“I want it armed and set to fire at midnight exactly” Kurshin told him.
“What if something goes wrong, Comrade Colonel? I mean what if we are delayed for some reason in raising the launching ramp”
“Nothing will go wrong; trust me, Lieutenant”
“Well, if these crates are not removed and the ramp isn’t raised I wouldn’t want to be within fifty kilometers of this ship” Chobotov said.
He took a small flashlight from his jumpsuit Pocket and handed it to Kurshin. “You will have to hold the light for me, sir”
“With pleasure” Kurshin said. “And believe me, you and your captain will get exactly what you deserve for this” And very soon, Kurshin thought.
Very soon.
It took the young lieutenant less than ten minutes to arm the Tomahawk’s firing circuitry and install the timer Onto the proper circuit board.
When he was finished, he replaced the access panel with its ten fasteners. “There” he said, turning around. Kurshin had taken out his gun and had screwed the silencer tube on the end of the barrel.
Chobotov opened his mouth to cry out when he realized what was about to happen, but Kurshin fired a single shot point-blank into his left eye, slamming him backward, his head bouncing off the deck. Reholstering his gun, Kurshin turned and calmly ducked back out from beneath the false crates and made his way back to the afterdeck where Makayev and the others still stood at gunpoint.
Makayev looked beyond Kurshin. “Where is Aleksei”
“Dead” Kurshin said. “Kill them” Makayev reached for his gun, but Grechko’s men opened fire, and Kurshin began to laugh.
Time was running out for all of them. It was nearly six in the evening and still they had come up with nothing concrete. As someone around the situation table had growled, the stretch of the Mediterranean they were searching-from the eastern end of Crete to the coasts of Israel, Lebanon, and Syria — encompassed more than two hundred thousand square miles of water. Heavily trafficked water. A special circuit had been set up linking the SOSUS center with the National Security Agency’s Ft. Meade satellite reconnaissance service, over which KHII photographs came in a steady stream. An SR-71 spy plane had been dispatched from its base at Prestwick, Scotland, downloading its first batch of photographs through a special satellite link. The second batch, taken two hours later, would show them relative movements when compared to the first, and were due to be transmitted at any minute.
Naval Intelligence units along with local CIA stations throughout Europe had enlisted the cooperation of Interpol in an effort to track down the leasing of any ships within the past few days to a week. Their reports were continuously added to the growing pile of data. But this was summer. The Mediterranean was a playground for boaters from nearly every country in the world. The CVN Nimitz and its task force continued to shadow the Russian fleet, of course, and the Phoenix and Baton Rouge continued to watch the approaches to the Black Sea on the off chance that they had been fooled into believing that the Indianapolis had actually gone down. It would be another full twenty-four hours before the ASR Pigeon was on station and they could send the submersible down for a firsthand look. But by then, it would be too late. Trotter had been on the encrypted telephone with General Murphy all through the late morning and afternoon. The Israelis had been fully assessed of the situation, and they had sent up the U-2 spy plane they had purchased from the US. Air Force some years back, and which had proved very effective for them. They had no capability of downlinking such photographs; instead, the U-2 had to be returned to its base, the film canisters unloaded, and the film processed and printed. The results of that first overflight were expected soon.
It had become a gigantic job of collation. Each possible target vessel had to be studied carefully to make certain it was of the proper size.
But although the Tomahawk missile was heavy, it was only twenty-one feet long; it wouldn’t take a very large boat to handle it. Assuming the missile was going to be fired sometime tonight, and from a spot somewhere within the vicinity of the Syrian or Lebanese coasts, there was another limiting factor. If the missile had been transferred from the Indianapolis in the early morning hours (and there was still no proof of that), then it would take time to cross the nearly eight hundred miles of sea. With each target, once its speed was determined, they extrapolated backward, to see if the vessel could have been off the coast of Greece at the proper moment. “That is, if they’re going to fire the missile from that close” Ainslie said. McGarvey looked up from the situation table and rubbed his eyes. None of them had gotten any rest, and all of them were becoming edgy. Ainslie had been talking to Admiral Delugio, who looked and acted like a wounded bear on the verge of going on a rampage. ‘-What are you saying to me, Mal” the admiral growled.
“Just this, Admiral. We’ve got no guarantee that McGarvey is right. If I were this Kurshin, I would be getting rid of the missile at the first possible opportunity. They’ve been within firing range the whole time”
“They might have doubled back, is that it”
“Yes, sir. By now they could be anywhere. Anywhere at all. And once it gets dark we’re not going to have a chance in hell of finding them”
“What are you suggesting”
“Convince the president to go public” Ainslie said after a brief hesitation. “Gorbachev wouldn’t dare go ahead with it”
“it wouldn’t work” McGarvey said. They looked over at him. “Why not”
Delugio demanded. “Because Gorbachev and the Politburo know nothing about it, that’s why. This is a Baranov plot. It doesn’t go beyond him.
And you can bet he’s got his alibis. Whatever happens or doesn’t happen, his hands are going to be clean”
“Bullshit” Ainslie swore. “You’ve got this Baranov sonofabitch on the brain. The man is the head of the KGB, and a Politburo member.
Responsible men do not do these kinds of things” McGarvey laughed tiredly. “You don’t know what you’re talking about”
“It’s a goddamned vendetta. I’ve seen the report, McGarvey. You fucked up two years ago, and although you managed to stop the missile launch in Germany, you fucked up again by not stopping this Kurshin you’re so hot to go after. And less than two months ago you fucked up again, nearly getting yourself killed in the process”
“Besides, his target is Israel, not the States, is that it” McGarvey said tightly. He was beginning to lose his temper. “Get out of here, McGarvey. We don’t need your kind. You’re nothing but a hired gun, and from where I’m standing it doesn’t look like you’re even worth a damn at that”
Trotter, who had been talking on the phone across the room, put it down.
“Kirk” he called in warning. “Admiral, call Admiral O’Malley” Ainslie said. “He can take this to the president. Before it’s too late. And order this maniac out of here. This is a Navy matter. The CIA will just fuck it up”
McGarvey was around the big table in three steps. He grabbed a handful of Ainslie’s uniform blouse with his left hand, the big Graz Buyra he had taken from the Grosser Miiggelsee boathouse in his right, the barrel pressed into the soft flesh beneath the man’s chin. “Stand down, mister”
Delugio roared. “I’ve come up against this sonofabitch before, Ainslie, and you’re right, I did fuck up McGarvey said through clenched teeth.
“He wants to unseat Gorbachev and become party secretary himself. If Kurshin pulls this off for him, Baranov just may succeed, and then you and the Navy will definitely have a problem”
“Mister, that’s a direct order” Delugio was shouting, but McGarvey ignored him. “But he’s counting on assholes like you to help him do his work. Going public with this now will only delay our search, giving him plenty of time to do what he’s set out to do. Admiral Delugio had snatched a .45 automatic from one of the Marine guards and he jammed the barrel into the back of McGarvey’s head. “Lower your weapon now” he said.
McGarvey cocked the Graz Buyra’s hammer. “Let me get on with my job, Admiral”
“We’ll talk about it. First put down your weapon”
“He very nearly succeeded in Ramstein, and this time he managed to steal one of your submarines and kill her crew. He won’t stop”
