“Two hours. We take our time in this part. On removal from the furnace, the crucibles will be covered, of course, and we make the pour in an inert-gas enclosure. Now you know why we needed this sort of furnace.”
“No danger when you make the pour?”
Fromm shook his head. “None at all, so long as we are careful. The configuration of the mold absolutely prevents forming a critical mass. I've done this many times in simulation. There have been accidents, but those invariably involved larger masses of fissile material and took place before all the hazards of handling plutonium were fully understood. No, we will move slowly and carefully. Pretend it is gold,” Fromm concluded.
“The machining process?”
“Three weeks, and two more of assembly and testing of the components.”
“The tritium extraction?” Ghosn asked.
Fromm bent down to look into the furnace. “I'll do that right before completion, and that will conclude the exercise…”
“See any resemblance?” the investigator asked.
“Hard to tell,” Wellington thought. “In any case, he sure seems to like the little tyke. Cute enough. I watched them build the swing set last weekend. The little one — name's Jackie, by the way, Jacqueline Theresa—”
“Oh? That's interesting.” Wellington made a note.
“Anyway, the little one loves the damned thing.”
“Seems right fond of Dr. Ryan, also.”
“You suppose he really is the father?”
“Possible,” Wellington said, watching the videotape and comparing the picture there with the still shots. “Light wasn't very good.”
“I can have the back-room boys enhance it. Take a few days for the tape, though. They have to do it frame by frame.”
“I think that's a good idea. We want this to be solid.”
“It will be. So, what's going to happen to him?”
“He'll be encouraged to leave government service, I suppose.”
“You know, if we were private citizens, you might call this blackmail, invasion of privacy…”
“But we're not, and it isn't. This guy holds a security clearance, and it appears that his personal life isn't what it should be.”
“I suppose that's not our fault, is it?”
“Exactly.”
22
REPERCUSSIONS
“Damn it, Ryan, you can't do that!”
“Do what?” Jack responded.
“You went over my head to The Hill.”
“What do you mean? All I did was suggest to Trent and Fellows that there might be a problem. I'm supposed to do that.”
“It's not confirmed,” the Director insisted.
“So, what ever is fully confirmed?”
“Look at this.” Cabot handed over a new file.
“This is SPINNAKER. Why haven't I seen it yet?”
“Just read it!” Cabot snapped back.
“Confirms the leak…” It was a short one, and Jack raced through it.
“Except he thinks it's a leak in the Moscow embassy. Like a code clerk, maybe.”
“Pure speculation on his part — all he really says is that he wants his reports transported by hand now. That's the only definite thing this tells us.”
Cabot dodged. “I know we've done that before.”
“Yes, we have,” Ryan admitted. It would even be easier now with the direct air service from New York to Moscow.
“What's the rat line look like now?”
Ryan frowned at that. Cabot liked to use Agency jargon, though the term “rat line,” meaning the chain of people and methods that transported a document from agent to case officer, had actually gone out of favor. “It's a fairly simple one. Kadishev leaves his messages in a coat pocket. The check-room attendant at their Congress retrieves the messages and gets them off to one of our people by brush-pass. Simple and direct. Also rather fast. I've never been comfortable with it, but it works.”
“So now we have two top agents who're unhappy with our communications systems, and I have to fly all the way to Japan — personally — to meet with one.”
“It's not all that unusual for an agent to want to meet a high Agency official, Director. These people get twitchy, and knowing that some higher-up cares about them is what they need.”
“It'll waste a whole week of my time!” Cabot objected.
“You have to go to Korea in late January anyway,” Ryan pointed out. “Catch our friend on the way back. He's not demanding to see you immediately, just soon.” Ryan returned to the SPINNAKER report, wondering why Cabot allowed himself to be sidetracked by irrelevancies. The reason, of course, was that the man was a dilettante, and a lazy one, who disliked losing arguments.
The new report said that Narmonov was very worried indeed that the West would find out just how desperate his situation with the Soviet military and KGB was. There was no further information on missing nuclear weapons, but plenty on new changes in parliamentary loyalties. The report gave Ryan the impression of having been slapped together. He decided to have Mary Pat look at it. Of all the people in the Agency, she was the only one who really understood the guy.
“I presume you're taking it to the President.”
“Yes, I think I have to.”
“If I may make a suggestion, remember to tell him that we have not really confirmed anything Kadishev has said.”
Cabot looked up. “So?”
“So, it's true, Director. When you single-source something, especially something that's apparently highly important, you tell people that.”
“I believe this guy.”
“I'm not so sure.”
“The Russian department buys it,” Cabot noted.
“True, they've signed off on it, but I'd feel a hell of a lot better if we had independent confirmation,” Jack said.
“Do you have any firm basis to doubt this information?”
“Nothing I can show to you, no. It's just that we ought to have been able to confirm something by now.”
“So, you expect me to go all the way down to the White House, present this, and then admit that it might be wrong?” Cabot stamped out his cigar, much to Jack's relief.
“Yes, sir.”
“I won't do that!”
“You have to do that, sir. You have to do that because it happens to be true. It's the rule.”
“Jack, it can get slightly tedious when you tell me what the rules of this place are. I am the Director, you know.”
“Look, Marcus,” Ryan said, trying to keep the exasperation out of his voice, “what we have with this guy is some really hot information, something which, if true, could affect the way we deal with the Soviets. But it is not confirmed. It just comes from one person, okay? What if he's wrong? What if he misunderstands something. What if he's lying, even?”
