“Did he tell you?”
“Yes, but he couldn’t do it until the project with his father was completed.”
Mercer rubbed his knuckles into his eyes, trying to push away the sleep which threatened to overwhelm him. He poured another cup of strong coffee, this time omitting the Scotch.
“Tell me what really happened the night the
Tish said, acting confused, “I already told you about it.”
Fury edged Mercer’s voice. “Let me put some things into perspective here, Tish, so you know where I’m coming from, okay?”
She had never experienced such naked anger in her life. Mercer’s voice, though not raised, drilled into her, forcing her back in her bar stool.
“Your boyfriend and his father are the architects of a plot that could tear apart the very fabric of our country. It started in May of 1954 when Pytor Borodin detonated a nuclear device, triggering a volcanic chain reaction that created a new metal whose value is incalculable. Since that time, he’s ruthlessly murdered everyone who came close to discovering his secret.
“Do you remember the list of ships that Dave Saulman sent me from Miami?” Tish looked like she was going to be ill as she nodded. “That is actually a list of Pytor Borodin’s victims. I hope you take note that the
“Valery Borodin and his father have masterminded a plot that could leave this country wallowing in economic and social chaos while the rest of the world prospers.” Mercer’s mouth was twisted into a disgusted rictus, but his eyes were slate hard. “I’m not some ultra-patriot who salutes every time I see a flag, but I don’t want to see our government brought to its knees either. You have a choice. Tell me what I need to know, or I call the FBI and you spend the next century or two in a penitentiary with a cellmate named Leather.”
Tish was sobbing now. Mercer wanted to take her into his arms, brush the tears away, and say he was sorry, but he couldn’t. He had to be cruel.
“This is fucking useless,” he said disgustedly, and reached for the portable phone lying on the bar.
“Wait,” Tish said meekly. “Please wait.”
Mercer poured a shot of brandy into a balloon snifter and placed it in front of Tish. She sniffed back her tears and sipped the amber liquor.
“What happened the night the
“Around midnight a man came to my cabin. I’d never seen him before. He wasn’t part of the scientific team or a member of the crew.”
“A stowaway?”
“He must have been. He told me that Valery had sent him.”
Mercer interrupted again. “What was he — white, Oriental, black?”
“He was Oriental. Maybe thirty-five or forty years old, about your size but amazingly strong. He told me that I was in danger and had to go with him. I tried to question him, but he said there was no time, just tossed me over his shoulder and carried me up to the deck. There was an inflatable raft tied to the stern of the
“About five minutes after he started rowing us away, the
“Then you never heard Russian or saw the design on the stack of the ship that rescued you?”
“That part I do remember. I must have come to as we were pulled aboard that freighter.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about this before?”
“I didn’t want anything to spoil Valery’s chances of escape, so I stayed quiet. You see, the group he was going to work for, the one headed by his father, was incredibly ruthless. He told me that everyone involved with the project was sworn to lifelong secrecy and anyone who tried to leave the group before Val’s father said they could would be hunted down and killed. He told me he knew his father would never let him leave. He was bound to the old man forever, he said. But he was still determined to get away. He said his father was completely insane and what they were working on could upset the balance of power all over the world. Valery told me before he left Mozambique that he would contact me just before he escaped. I assumed that this rescue was that contact.”
“That may be, but he’s made contact since then too.”
“When, how?” Tish asked, a trace of excitement creeping into her trembling voice.
“The telegram I received, the one I thought was from your father, must have been sent from him. Christ knows how he made the connection between us.” Mercer spoke slowly at first, but as ideas correlated in his brain, he talked faster. “I was suspicious about your rescue from the
Mercer stood silently behind the bar, both hands cupped around his coffee mug. His eyes had lost their focus as he stared beyond Tish at a Ken Marschall lithograph of the Hindenburg, just before she exploded over Lakehurst, New Jersey. It was one of the only pictures that Mercer had gotten around to hanging apart from those in his study.
“He plans to steal his father’s work when he leaves, doesn’t he? That’s why he just didn’t run away with you in Mozambique.”
“How did you figure that out?”
“It fits with his actions so far and with the brief description you gave of his psychological state. He would want to bring something of value with him so that he could provide for the two of you. At the same time, stealing his father’s work would fulfill his need for revenge against his father for abandoning him.”
“You can’t know that.” Tish was uncomfortable by Mercer’s accuracy and covered it with an accusation.
“The first reason is obvious. He’s going to want to be a provider for you and a possible family, unlike his father had been to him, and that data could make the two of you quite comfortable for the rest of your lives. I’m even more familiar with the second reason.
“Remember I said that I used to live in Africa when I was younger, that I was actually born in the Congo? Well, I left there as an orphan. My parents moved to Rwanda so my father could work on opening a copper mine. They were killed during an insurrection in 1964, ambushed going to a party on the first night of the fighting. Both of them were burned alive. My nanny, a Tutsi woman, took me back to her village the next day. I lived there for a couple of months until the fighting died down, then she turned me over to a World Health Organization team, who eventually contacted my father’s parents in Vermont.
“Even though my grandparents were kind and loving people, I hated being with them and I hated my real parents even more for abandoning me. I felt utterly betrayed. I remember winter nights when I’d go cross-country skiing. I’d stop in some meadow, miles away from the nearest house, and scream at them, cursing them, accusing them of leaving me on purpose. It was the loneliest time in my life.
“If I could foster that much hate against my parents who actually died, I can only imagine the hate Valery must feel toward his father for leaving him for some government project and then just as casually returning.”
“How did you ever get over your parents’ death?” Tish asked quietly. Mercer’s story had touched her deeply.
“An old farmer overheard me one night when I was about sixteen and we talked. He was the only person I ever opened up to. When I’d finished my story, he told me I was acting stupid and if I kept it up he’d slap me around because I was upsetting his dairy cows. I guess I’d received so much sympathy before that, I saw myself as a perpetual victim. By callously saying I was stupid, he made me realize that, in fact, I was. My parents’ deaths were beyond their control — it was never their choice to abandon me. Finally I could accept that.” Mercer poured a shot of Scotch into his coffee, then drained the cup in three deep swallows.
Tish didn’t say anything, but the tension had eased from her neck and shoulders and her blue eyes were misted and soft.
“I owe you an apology,” Mercer said softly. “I thought you were part of this operation. I thought you knew all about it.”
“No,” Tish said quietly, “I didn’t.”
