knew he was doing the right thing. He would deal with regrets after he had done his duty.
The door of the diner opened.
Billie came out first The bright lights were behind her, so Anthony could not see her face, but he recognized her small figure and the characteristic sway of her walk. Next came a man in a black coat and black hat Luke. They went to the red Thunderbird. The figure in the trench coat bringing up the rear got into the white Lincoln.
Anthony started his engine.
The T-bird moved away, followed by the Lincoln. Anthony waited a few seconds, then pulled out Ackie tucked in behind on his motorcycle.
Billie headed west, and the little convoy followed. Anthony stayed a block and a half behind, but the streets were deserted, so they were sure to notice they were being tailed. Anthony felt fatalistic about it. There was no 'further point in deception: this was ;the showdown.
They came to 14th Street and stopped for a red light, and Anthony came up behind Bern's Lincoln. When the light turned green, Billie's Thunderbird suddenly shot forward, while the Lincoln remained stationary.
Cursing, Anthony reversed a few yards, then threw the shift into drive and stamped on the gas pedal. The big car shot forward. He swung around the standing Lincoln and raced after the others.
Billie zigzagged through the neighbourhood at the back of the White House, shooting red lights, defying No Turn signs, and driving the wrong way on one-way streets. Anthony did the same, desperately trying to stay on her tail, but the Cadillac could not match the T-bird for maneuverability, and she drew away.
Ackie passed Anthony and stayed right on Billie's tail. However, as she increased her lead over Anthony, he guessed that her game plan was first to shake the Cadillac by twisting and turning, then get on to a freeway and outrun the motorcycle, which could not match the T-bird's top speed of 125. 'Hell,' he said.
Then luck intervened. Screeching around a corner, Billie ran into a flood. Water was gushing out of a drain at the kerbside, and the entire width of the road was two or three inches under. She lost control of her car. The tail of the Thunderbird swung around in a wide arc, and the vehicle spun through a half-circle. Ackie veered around her, his bike slipped from under him, and he fell off and rolled in the water, but got up immediately. Anthony jammed on the brakes of the Cadillac and skidded to a halt at the intersection. The Thunderbird came to a halt slewed across the street, with its trunk an inch from a parked car. Anthony pulled across its front, blocking it in. Billie could not getaway.
Ackie was already at the driver's door of the Thunderbird. Anthony ran to the passenger side. 'Get out of the cart' he yelled. He drew the gun from his inside pocket The door opened, and the figure in the black coat and hat got out Anthony saw immediately that it was not Luke, but Bern.
He turned and looked back the way they had come. There was no sign of the white Lincoln.
Rage boiled up inside him. They had switched coats, and Luke had escaped in Bern's car. You fucking idiot!' he screamed at Bern. He felt like shooting him on the spot. 'You don't know what you've done!'
Bern was infuriatingly calm.
'Then tell me, Anthony,' he said. 'What have I done?'
Anthony turned away and stuffed the gun back into his coat.
'Wait a minute,' Bern said. 'You've got some explaining to do. What you did to Luke is illegal.'
'I don't have to explain one goddamn thing to you,' Anthony spat.
'Luke's not a spy.'
'How would you know a thing like that?'
'I know.'
'I don't believe you.'
, Bern gave him a hard look. 'Sure you do,' he said. 'You know perfectly well that Luke is not, a Soviet agent. So why the hell are you pretending otherwise?'
'Go to hell,' Anthony said, and he walked away.
Billie lived in Arlington, a leafy suburb on the Virginia side of the Potomac river. Anthony drove along her street. As he passed her house, he saw on the other side of the road a dark-coloured Chevrolet sedan belonging to the CIA. He turned a corner and parked. Billie would come home in the next couple of hours. She knew where Luke had gone. But she would not tell Anthony. He had lost her trust She would stay loyal to Luke now - unless Anthony put her under extraordinary pressure.
So that was what he would do.
Was he crazy? A small voice in his head kept asking if the race was worth the prize. Was there any justification for what he was about to do? He pushed his doubts aside. He had chosen his destiny long ago, and he was not to be deflected from it, not even by Luke.
He opened the trunk of his car and took out a black leather case, the size of a hardcover book, and a pencil flashlight Then he walked back to the Chevy. He slid into the passenger seat beside Pete and sat looking at the dark windows of Billie's little house. He thought: This will be the worst thing I have ever done.
He looked at Pete. 'Do you trust me?' he said.
Pete's disfigured face twisted in an embarrassed grin. 'What kind of question is that? Yes, I trust you.'
Most of the young agents hero-worshipped Anthony, but Pete had an extra reason for being loyal to him. Anthony had discovered something about Pete that could get him fired - the fact that he had once been arrested for soliciting a prostitute - but he had kept it secret Now, to remind Pete of that he said: 'If I did something that seemed wrong to you, would you still back me up?'
Pete hesitated, and when he spoke his voice was choked with emotion. 'Let me tell you something.' He looked ahead, through the windscreen, at the lamplit street You've been like a father to me, that's all.'
'I'm going to do something you won't like. I need you to trust me that it's the right thing to do.'
I'm telling you - you got it.'
I'm going in,' Anthony said. 'Honk if anyone arrives.'
He walked softly up the driveway, circled around the garage and went to the back door. He shone his flashlight through the kitchen window. The familiar table and chairs stood in darkness.
He had lived a life of deception and betrayal, but this, he thought with a surge of self-loathing, was the lowest he had ever sunk.
The kitchen door had an old-fashioned two-way lock with a key on the inside. Anthony could have opened it with a pencil. He put the flask in his mouth, then unzipped the leather case and took out an instrument like a dental probe. He slid it into the keyhole, pushing the key out on the far side! It fell on to the mat with no sound. He misted the probe and unlocked the door.
Silently, he stepped into the darkened house. He knew his way around. He checked the living room first, then Billie's bedroom. Both were empty. Next he looked in on Becky-Ma. She was fast asleep, her hearing aid on the bedside table. Last he went into Larry's room.
He shone his flash on the sleeping child, feeling sick with guilt. He sat on the edge of the bed and switched on the light. 'Hey, Larry, wake up,' he said. 'Come oil.'
The boy's eyes opened. After a disoriented moment, he grinned. 'Uncle Anthony!' he said, and he smiled.
'Time to get up,' Anthony said.
'What time is it?'
'It's early.'
'What are we going to do?'
'It's a surprise,' Anthony said.
.
4.30 A. M.
Fuel shoots into the combustion chamber of the rocket engine at a speed of about 100 feet per second. Burning begins the instant the fluids meet. The heat of the flame soon evaporates the liquids. Pressure rises to several hundred pounds per square inch, and the temperature soars to 5,000 degrees Fahrenheit.
Bern said to Billie: You're in love with Luke, aren't you.'
They were sitting in her car outside his building. She did not want to go in: she was impatient to get home to Larry and Becky-'In love?' she said evasively. 'Am I?' She was not sure how much she wanted to share with her ex-husband. They were friends, but not intimate.
'It's okay,' he said. 'I realized long ago that you should have married Luke. I don't think you ever stopped
