“Bullshit. You were following and watching me. When somebody tried to murder me and my co-counsel yesterday, your people came along and cleaned up afterward. Did Martin put you up to that?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Drummond.”
“I don’t, huh? What happened to the bodies of those guys who tried to kill me and my co-counsel? Where’d they disappear to? What about the runaround I got from the FBI when I tried to get help?”
I heard a murmuring sound as Mary and Johnson clued each other about how to handle me. Then Mary, the woman I used to do the hokey with, said, “Sean, you’ve got it confused.”
“Confused, huh?” I yelled into the phone. “I saw your guys in Tysons mall when I gave you the slip. Don’t lie to me, Mary. If I lose trust in you, I’ll call the Post and Times and play this tape for them.”
Which was an overstatement, because I’d already lost trust in Mary, and in Johnson’s case, I’d never trusted the bastard in the first place.
Johnson said, “Don’t do that, Drummond. For Godsakes, don’t even make that threat. You’ll set back our relations with Russia by a dozen years. You’re a soldier. A scandal like this will seriously harm this country.”
My voice grew louder. “I’m that classic rat driven into the corner. You put me here. I don’t think about consequences any longer, I just lash out. Guys like me are really, really scary.”
I heard more murmuring, and if I had to guess what was being said, it was Mary telling Johnson it was true. I was really, really scary.
“Okay, okay,” Johnson came back on, trying to sound placating, the professional hostage negotiator who knew how to calm the nerves of an overwrought subject. “We’ll get through this, Sean. Calm down and we’ll get through this.”
By this time, my anger was reverberating over their speakerphone. “I’ve survived two attempts on my life. A fellow officer was brutally murdered. You got the number for the Senate Intelligence Oversight Committee? Those right-wing politicos on the committee love this kind of shit. They think we’re suckers for getting closer to Russia, anyway. Ah, hell, don’t trouble yourself. I’ll get the number from the operator. Listen, I’ve got a lot of calls to make, so I’ve got to run.”
Mary, sounding desperate said, “Sean, don’t. Please. Just talk this out.”
I yelled, “Talk it out with the newspapers! I don’t want to hear your lies and-”
“You’re right,” she interrupted.
“About what?”
“We were having you followed and watched.”
“Why?”
“Ever since Moscow. Ever since that first attempt. Mort Jackler’s our man. He’s not stupid, Sean. When you tried blaming that attempt on Mel Torianski, he knew you were lying. We saw you meeting with Alexi. You’ve been watched ever since. We had to know why someone was trying to kill Bill’s defense team. And we had to protect Alexi.”
“If you were watching, how come Katrina and I almost got killed?”
“We were caught flat-footed. I swear it’s true. We couldn’t protect you. It all went down too fast. And when you told me Katrina wasn’t on the team, I pulled off her security.”
“But you could hide the attempts afterward? And you could have the FBI cold-shoulder us? You could do that because you wanted us to stay out in the cold as bait. You used us. Jesus, Mary, you are one cold-blooded bitch.”
“You brought it on yourself, Sean. You got overinvolved. I warned you. You were talking with Alexi. I warned you not to do that.”
“And what? When somebody tried to kill me, you thought you’d use me to figure out who? Was it that cold?”
“I didn’t like doing it, Sean. I swear I didn’t.”
“No, of course you didn’t, Mary.”
Johnson, knowing this thing was going south, quickly interjected, “It’s true, Sean. She argued against it. I overruled her.”
I shook my head. Sure she did. They thought they were so clever. That’s the problem with people who rise up to the heights of their bureaucracies and get big fancy titles. They actually begin to think they really are smarter than everybody else.
I said, “And what about Bill Morrison, my client, Mary’s husband, the man accused of treason?”
Johnson said, “Um, well, until this conversation we were convinced he was our man. God damn… Milt Martin. I’m still having trouble believing it. Of course, Morrison’s still guilty of some serious crimes. According to your tape, he gave Martin the names of our assets. That was a serious security violation that led directly to their deaths.”
“Uh-huh,” I commented. “And what are you going to do about Arbatov?”
“What about him?” Johnson asked.
“ ‘What about him?’ ” I sarcastically mimicked. “He’s been exposed. Victor knows about him. He’s at risk.”
Johnson’s tone sounded deeply sympathetic. “Yes, it’s a shame, isn’t it? That’s always the risk in our profession. Alexi knew this, of course. He knew it from the moment he first made contact with Bill Morrison.”
“I asked you what you’re going to do about it.”
There was another quiet moment and I could almost visualize them exchanging signals of some sort.
Mary finally said, “There’s nothing we can do about it, Sean. Ordinarily in these kinds of operations we have a prearranged signal we give our asset that warns him to flee. We don’t have an arrangement like that with Alexi. Even if we did, it wouldn’t work. Yurichenko is surely having him watched. And his profile is too high. He’d never get out.”
“So you’re just going to let him fry?”
Again it was Mary who replied, “Sean, I care deeply for Alexi. There’s just nothing we can do. The White House doesn’t want any troubles with the Russians… that’s just the way it is. Even if we could put together an operation to try to get him out, the White House would veto it.”
“So that’s it?”
“That’s it,” Johnson said, sounding ruthlessly unsentimental.
I smiled. I pulled my trusty tape recorder away from the earpiece. I flicked it off. Then I said, “Hey, guess what?”
“What?” Johnson asked.
“I just recorded this whole conversation, too. I know I shouldn’t have, and I feel really bad about it, only I thought whoever listens to Martin’s confession might enjoy listening to you admit you were using me, an officer of the court, as bait for killers. Not to mention your willingness to let a valuable asset die. I’ll bet that’ll do wonders for recruiting future assets. They’ll be lining up at the door. Don’t you think that’s a nice touch?”
There was a moment of agonized silence. I was put on hold again. But that’s okay; I’m not the kind of guy who gets his feathers all ruffled by life’s little annoyances.
And while I waited, here’s what I was thinking. The good news here was that Mary hadn’t tried to have me murdered. That was a reassuring thing to know, after all. What lousier feeling is there than knowing the woman you used to love-had I really been that stupid?-hired some goons to turn you into compost?
But that’s as far as the consolation went. Mary had played me like a harp from the beginning. I thought back to that opening session with her, when she sat on that flowered couch looking like the distraught wife and got me to beg her not to feel bad about dragging me into this. I thought about all those times we met where she denied knowing what the hell was going on. I was more than a sucker.
Johnson’s voice finally came back on. “Drummond, we need to make a deal.”
The man had good instincts and knew exactly what this call was about. I replied, “Same conditions as last time. I name the terms, you nod your head and say, ‘Yes sir, and what else can I do for you?’ If I hear a single hesitant pause… well, there won’t be a second chance. Got that?”
“Yes sir, and what else can I do for you?” he responded, showing he was a careful listener who hadn’t missed a single comma.
I outlined everything he and Mary were going to do for me, then hung up. I walked across the lobby and handed the phone back to the businessman, who beamed like an idiot.
I went back upstairs. Katrina was seated on the bed, watching MTV, of all things. “Well?” she asked, so
