'You saying Cole could be a Communist and she wouldn't know?'
'She's KGB—there's still the GRU, lots of initialed organizations in Soviet Intelligence. And maybe it's something else. Can't see why the Russians would recruit a U.S. nuclear submarine to do this—why not land some troops?'
'Maybe they want to fire the missiles—maybe at China—use this as a surprise base—so the Chinese won't pick them up on long range radar.'
'Four hundred and eighty megatons is enough to destroy a lot—maybe a really large city totally destroyed. Not enough to stop the Chinese though. Understand they're giving the Russians a hard time of it. But a plan like that'd be stupid.'
'I tried contacting U.S. II—electrical interference in the upper atmosphere must be too strong for my radio equipment. You say the word, I'll pull the plug on Captain Cole
and throw him in irons.'
Rourke laughed, securing the Sting IA in its sheath on the left side of his belt inside the band of his Levis.' 'You really still have irons on board ships?'
'Well,' Gundersen laughed. 'Figure of speech. You get my drift, Rourke?'
'Yeah,' Rourke nodded. 'No—' His teeth were clenched—he could feel them as he spoke. 'No—Cole's a ringer, or a Communist—or maybe something else—I'm sure of that. But we'll never find out what's going on unless we let him play out his hand.'
'You play poker much, Doctor Rourke?'
'Used to play a lot with my kids—they'd always win,' Rourke answered.
'Weil—heard this line in a western once—you're drawin' against an inside straight—with Cole, I mean. He knows what he's doing—enough to leave his own men strung out there while you and Rubenstein tried saving them, then show up just in time for the last rubber boat out. It's important that he gets to the warheads—'
'And I'm the one Armand Teal will believe. He can't touch me until we reach Filmore Air Force Base and find out if Teal's still alive. I'm safe 'til then.
All I gotta do is worry about those crazy-assed wildmen.'
Gundersen stood up. 'That's why she's going with you—for after you reach Filmore.'
'I don't want her along—those stitches—'
'You told me six hours ago her stitches were nearly healed. She was practically back to normal.'
Rourke licked his lips, buckling on the flap holster with the Python. He said nothing. Gundersen left.
Rourke looked at himself in the mirror—three handguns, a knife. It wouldn't be enough.
Chapter 55
John Rourke squinted across the water—the submarine-' was already pulling out to deeper water, then would dive to resurface near the original site of the battle with the wildmen. To draw them off, he and Gunderson hoped.
Rourke reached under his brown leather bomber jacket, took the dark lensed aviator style sunglasses and put them on.
He chewed down on the stump of cigar in his mouth.
It was Cole. 'You ready, Doctor Rourke?'
Natalia—her eyes so incredibly blue, her skin more pale than it was always. She looked at him, and so did Rubenstein. Rourke looking past them at Cole, answered, 'Yeah.'
Rourke reached down to the gravel beside his feet, snatching up the Lowe Alpine Loco Pack. He shifted it onto his shoulders, reaching under his bomber jacket and rearranging the straps from the shoulder rig.
'I take it due north a ways,' Cole called out.
Rourke looked at Cole, then started to walk, Natalia and Rubenstein flanking him.
Her pack was light, but he knew that soon he or Paul would wind up carrying it.
'Due north?' Cole called again.
Rourke kept walking, through his teeth, the word barely audible, 'Yeah.'
Chapter 56
