McGarvey said to his retreating figure. It would be nothing more than an inconvenience to the Englishman. His embassy would supply him with new papers, and no doubt his home office would arrange for funds.
Turning back to the clerk, he rented a Ford Taurus, and a half an hour later he was making his way through heavy traffic into the city. As he drove he kept looking in his rearview mirror for any sign that he was being followed. But by the time he had reached the city proper he was convinced he was completely clean. It was nearly five by the time he found a place to park the car near the Athens Academy off Venizelou Street. He had kept the ninemillimeter automatic that the Israelis had given him. He took it out of his bag, loaded it, and stuffed it in his belt at the small of his back. Next he opened the passport wallet that he had lifted from the hapless Brit at the airport. The man’s name was Gordon Gutherie, and he was ii-om London. Besides his passport, the wallet contained eight hundred fifty pounds, about half that much in drachmas, a driver’s license, half a dozen major credit cards, and a collection of various business cards, photographs, notes, and one slip of paper on which was written only a telephone number. From what McGarvey could gather, the man had something to do with Ford-Leland, some sort of an engineer or factory rep. Whoever, he was reasonably well heeled. McGarvey took a moment to study the passport and driver’s license photographs. They had been taken at two different times, and really didn’t look like the same man. Nor did Gutherie look much like him. But at a busy border crossing at night it might work. He’d managed to cross other borders on much shakier documents. Stuffing the passport wallet in his coat pocket, he locked up the car and walked, overnight bag in hand, down the block where he found a cab.
“Where in God’s name have you been” Trotter demanded, opening the door of the Askilipiou safehouse where they’d met the last time. “Covering my ass” McGarvey said, coming in and dropping his bag on the couch.
Trotter closed and locked the door behind him, and then went to the window, where he parted the curtain and looked down at the street. “Do you think you were followed”
“If there was anyone waiting at the airport for me, I lost them”
McGarvey said, pouring himself a stiff cognac from the sideboard and drinking it. He poured himself another. “Was it Arkady Kurshin? No doubts in your mind, Kirk”
“No doubts” McGarvey said. “The man is dead”
“Have we got his body”
“Not yet”
“For Christ’s sake, Kirk, what happened out there? I’ve only been getting bits and pieces. And what in heaven’s name did the Israelis want with you”
“There’s no time for that now” McGarvey said, turning away from the sideboard. “Is Baranov still in East Berlin, at the Grosser Mijggelsee house”
“Yes, but he’s scheduled to leave sometime tomorrow morning”
“So far as you know, my equipment is still in place in the boathouse”
“It should be. We’ve kept our distance from the Lighthouse network.
Nothing much else we could do under the circumstances. But of course you wouldn’t be able to use them in any event, nor will you be able to use the Prenzauerberg apartment”
“I’m going after him, John. Tonight. Can you get me to West Berlin”
“We’ve got an Air Force VIP jet standing by for you. It’s a three-hour flight” McGarvey stared at his old friend for a long time. Whom to trust? He’d never really known in this business. But Trotter had always been at the top of his short list. “What” Trotter asked. ‘ How about Murphy? Has he gone to the president with this? Is that why you wanted me back here” Trotter nodded. “You’ve got the green light, Kirk. From the president.
“No mistakes now. I want this perfectly clear between us. My orders are to assassinate Valentin Baranov, the director of the KGB. Is that correct”
“Yes it is. From the president himself”
“Who else knows”
“What do you mean”
“Besides the president, General Murphy, you, and me, who else knows that I’m going across the border tonight to kill him”
“I don’t know. The president’s advisers, possibly the secretary of state”
“How about in the Agency? Is Larry Danielle in on it”
“Yes, I’m sure he “
“Van Cleeve” McGarvey asked. He was deputy director of intelligence.
“Phil Carrara” He was DDO, Trotter’s boss. “Phil, yes. But I don’t know about Howard. What are you getting at” Again McGarvey stared at his friend for a long time. They had been through a lot together; too much?
“Someone is selling us out to the Russians. Selling me. Baranov knows every move I make. They’re the ones who would be in the right position to know”
“And me, Kirk” Trotter said. “Don’t forget about me” His eyes were wide and naked behind his thick glasses. He looked like a scarecrow. His clothes hung loosely on his thin frame. “Do all of them know the details of my crossing, and about the equipment at the boathouse”
“Some of it. But you don’t have to do this. Just say no, Kirk. Everyone will understand. Good Lord, you’ve certainly done your bit. You’ve saved their ass twice now-at Ramstein, and aboard the Stephos. They’ve got no right to ask for more” McGarvey managed a slight smile. “But you and they were right all along, John. This is a vendetta. The man has to be destroyed, or else he will destroy us all”
“There are other ways. There will be another time”
“Have you still got the Kurshin identification? I can still use it.
There’s no way for Baranov to be certain yet that Kurshin is actually dead”
“I’ve got it, Kirk. But not now. Please. Especially not now for you”
The half-smile left McGarvey’s face. “What is it, John? What aren’t you telling me this time” Trotter stepped back almost as if he were suddenly afraid of McGarvey. His face was contorted with dismay. “I’m sorry … I “What is it”
“Murphy told me to keep my mouth shut”
“This is us talking now, John. You and I. Come on”
“It’s Lorraine Abbott” Trotter blurted. McGarvey’s heart skipped a beat.
“She’s at the hotel in West Berlin. Your people are watching her”
“No” Trotter whispered. ““Where is she”
“We don’t know for sure. Not yet”
“John, god damnit, talk to me”
“Kirk, she disappeared from the hotel a few hours after you had gone across. We think that Baranov took her. She’s probably at the Grosser Mijggelsee house with him now. As bait”
A black rage threatened to engulf him, blotting out all reason and sanity. But he held on. “Why wasn’t I told” he asked, his voice low, menacing. “It was thought that stopping Kurshin and recovering the Tomahawk missile were more important
“By whom, John? Who thought that”
“The president. General Murphy” One of the names dropped off the Mossad list of suspected penetration agents. “Were you going to let me go across tonight without telling me, John? Has it gone that far”
“No, I swear it. If I couldn’t talk you out of crossing, I promised myself that I’d tell you”
McGarvey believed him, though he no longer knew if he believed in the man.
“I’m going across. I’ll kill Baranov and I’ll bring Lorraine back with me” McGarvey looked directly into Trotter’s eyes. “If anyone gets in my way, John, anyone, I’ll kill them too” Trotter swallowed hard. He nodded. “When Baranov is dead, I’ll return to Washington and finish the job. And I don’t care who you tell that to”
It was night. Valentin Illen Baranov stood at the water’s edge gazing across the lake toward the mostly dark southern shore. His mouth was foul from too many cigarettes, and most of his outward passion had been spent on his attack against Lorraine Abbott.
There would be no permanent scars, at least not on her delicate body, but the encounter would be something she would never forget for the rest of her life. The fire, however, still burned brightly within his breast.
The great destroyer was finally coming. He had received the telephone call less than an hour ago, confirming the fact that McGarvey had come to Athens and was presently enroute to West Berlin. There was no doubt what his plans were. He would come across the border using falsified documents that would identify him as Arkady Kurshin.
