The Kill Zone km-9

by David Hagberg

  “I don’t think we have a lot of time left,” McGarvey said. “Don’t screw around, I can’t give you much more slack.”

  “I’m trying,” Otto said quietly. “I’m trying real hard to keep it together.”

  McGarvey watched as the Gulfstream came toward them, not at all sure what he was going to say to his daughter. What he could say that would help, except that he loved her. The tow vehicle driver guided the jet to a halt, then motioned for the pilot to cut the engines. They immediately began to spool down, and Yemm went over to help as the door came open and the stairs were lowered.

  Otto stepped away from the car. “She’ll be okay, Mac, Todd will take care of her.” There was a note of something, desperation maybe, in his voice. But he was not lying. “Isn’t he on your list of suspects?”

  McGarvey asked, even though the question was cruel. Otto looked sharply at him, surprise and a little doubt showing in his eyes.

  “You’re kidding, right?” he said, but McGarvey didn’t know if he was kidding. All he knew was that once you started down the slippery slope of mistrust there oftentimes was no way back. He was trying, but he was sliding again. “Boss?” The jet’s stairs were down. Yemm stood by at the open door. He was waiting. McGarvey fixed a smile on his face and boarded the plane. The pilot on the flight deck gave him a nod.

  “We had a smooth flight, Mr. Director,” he said. McGarvey glanced at him. “Thanks,” he said. His eyes slid past the copilot and the young woman who was the flight attendant, to his son-in-law, perched on the arm of Elizabeth’s seat, looking like he would take the head off anyone who so much as twitched near his wife. Then he looked at Liz, and his smile almost died. Elizabeth’s face was puffed up and badly bruised.

  Her eyes were swollen half-shut and bloodshot. She wore one of Todd’s flannel shirts, her left arm was in a sling. It was obvious from the way she held herself that she was in pain, especially in her lower back. She shivered in anticipation. Her mouth was screwed up in a grimace that made it impossible to tell if she was wincing in a sudden sharp pain, or she was trying to smile. Her skin, where it wasn’t black-and-blue, was pale, almost translucent. Even without the marks, she was obviously a sick woman. The medical report McGarvey had read said that she had lost a significant amount of blood. It would take time for her to recover. “Hello, sweetheart,” McGarvey said soothingly. He went to her and gently kissed her forehead. She looked up at him just like she had when she was a little girl, before he and Katy had separated, waiting for him to tuck her in for the night and listen to her prayers. “You’re back home now, and everything’s going to be fine.” He glanced at Todd, who gave him a very determined look in return. “The doctors say that you’ll come out of this just fine. How do you feel?”

  Her eyes squinted, and a couple of tears rolled down the side of her face. She picked a small, brown stuffed bear off the seat beside her and hugged it close with one arm. “They killed the baby, Daddy,” she said, her voice impossibly young. McGarvey almost lost it. She looked over her father’s shoulder. “Where’s Mom? Why isn’t she here?” “She wasn’t getting any rest, so the doctor put her in the hospital. Just for a couple of days. She’ll be home tomorrow.” “Was it because of me?” Elizabeth demanded. She looked up at Todd for support. He didn’t avoid her eyes. “Partly,” McGarvey admitted. “But whoever tried to get you, has tried to eliminate us, too. Which is why all of us are going to play it by the book and let Security do its job.” “Is she okay?” Elizabeth insisted. “She’ll be fine in a day or two. She just needs the rest, that’s all.” “Are you sure?” He nodded. She looked over her father’s shoulder again. Otto and Yemm had boarded the airplane and stood hunched over in the aisle. “Oh, wow, Liz, are you really okay?” Otto asked. “I’ll live,” Elizabeth replied. “Are you back at work?” “Yeah.” She brushed at a tear and faced her father.

  “Okay, it’s over. Todd and I are back, and we’re going to find the bastards who are doing this to us.” Gone was the little girl. She had become the strong, determined young woman she prided herself on being.

  A McGarvey. “You’re not going anywhere except to the hospital,”

  McGarvey told her. “Yes, to see Mom ”

  “And then the doctors. You’re not going anywhere until they give you a clean bill of health.” “I’m not going to lie around a hospital while someone tries to kill you. I don’t have a concussion, and I didn’t break any bones. I lost some blood and I lost the… baby.” Her breath caught in her throat.

  “It’s happened to other women, and it’s happened to me before. But I’m not an invalid.” “No. But you’re my daughter,” said McGarvey, “and before you do anything you’re going to heal. They’ll probably want to hold you overnight, and if that’s what they want, that’s what they’ll get.” McGarvey looked up. “Right, Todd?” Elizabeth started to protest, but Todd shook his head. “Just listen for once, Liz. Please.

  The rest of us can’t do our jobs if we have to ride herd on you.”

  “I’m okay,” she shot back crossly. She started to rise, but she winced in pain and slumped back.

  “Dick, call an ambulance,” McGarvey said.

  “No,” Elizabeth protested. “I’ll go to the hospital, and I’ll stay there until they say I can go back to work.” She looked up defiantly.

  “But no ambulance.”

  “Okay, sweetheart, no ambulance. But I’ll hold you to your promise.”

  BETHESDA

  Otto rode in the front with Yemm, the bulletproof divider up, while McGarvey rode with his battered daughter and son-in-law in the back. He wanted to get the story, the whole story, from her. He wasn’t going to bring up what Todd had told him before the weekend, that she and Otto had put their heads together and were working on something in secrecy.

  He wanted it to come from her without pressure. She was too brittle now; the right push could send her over the edge. All of them were on the brink, but especially Katy and Otto and now Liz. She remembered skiing, but not the accident. “Todd was behind me. He was shouting for me to slow down.” She still held the teddy bear. She smoothed its pink bow. “I have to thank Ms. Swanfeld.” “The bear came from everybody upstairs,” McGarvey said. She nodded. “Somebody was holding my hand and calling my name. It was Doris, my work name, but I knew that I was supposed to respond, say something, anything.” She shook her head in vexation. “But it was like I was having a nightmare. I knew that I had to keep running, but it was impossible because I was up to my knees in glue.” She looked up at her father. “I knew that you were going to be mad at me.” “I’m not mad at you, Liz. It wasn’t your fault.” “If I hadn’t gone skiing-” “Then they would have tried something else. And maybe you wouldn’t have been so lucky.” She shuddered and looked away. “Some luck,” she muttered bitterly. “Why you?” McGarvey asked. He glanced at Otto, who was looking straight ahead, giving no indication that he knew what was being discussed in the back.

  “I don’t know, Daddy,” Elizabeth said. “I can’t figure it out. If someone is trying to kill you, why come after me or Otto? And if they’re just trying to get you to quit, then they’ve got to start realizing that they’re going about it exactly the wrong way.” “Have you been working on anything that might make you a target?” “Do you mean that the attack on me might have been coincidental?” Liz shook her head. “It’s not likely. The Semtex they used in my bindings came from the same batch they used on your helicopter.” Lips pursed, McGarvey counted to five before he responded. “How do you know that?”

  “Jerry Kraus’s people came up with a match.” “But how did you find out, sweetheart?” “I don’t know. I think maybe Todd mentioned it.”

  Todd shook his head, and Elizabeth caught it. “Maybe Otto told me, then.” “When did you talk to him? Was it yesterday?” “It must have been,” she said, her anger rising. She hated to be put on the spot.

  “We left early this morning, so it was probably yesterday afternoon. I don’t remember.” “I shouldn’t th
ink so,” McGarvey said, sympathetically. “Not with all you’ve been through. But I’ll talk to Otto when we get to the office and clear it up.” “Clear up what?” Liz demanded. “Where’s the mystery?” “It’s a Russian thing. Something out of my past that we’re trying to get a handle on,” McGarvey told her with a measured nonchalance. “Could be that it’s them gunning for me.

  Otto has probably come up with something, too, but you know how he is.

  Unless he’s got it nailed down cold, he keeps whatever he’s working on to himself.” McGarvey shrugged. “I thought that if you had talked to him, he might have said something.” “Oh, that,” she said. “It has something to do with General Baranov, you’re right. And with a Department Viktor shrink who’s supposed to be on the run from the SVR.

  But I don’t know a lot more than that.” “Is that what you two have been working on so mysteriously?” “I’ve been working on your bio,”

  Elizabeth responded too quickly. “I would never have guessed one-tenth of what you did.” “Does Otto think that Nikolayev is gunning for me?”

  “He’s too old. But it might have something to do with whatever he took out of Moscow with him.” She shook her head. “I just don’t know, Daddy. Honestly. I wish “

  “You wish what, sweetheart?”

  She looked a little embarrassed. “I wish sometimes that we could just all go away someplace and just be together.”

  “Maybe in a time machine?” McGarvey suggested.

  She smiled and reached for her husband’s hand. “Only if I could take Todd with me.”

  Peggy Vaccaro was sitting across from a sleeping Kathleen in the darkened hospital room when McGarvey and Elizabeth showed up. Otto and Yemm went to the waiting room. Todd went downstairs to speak with Dr.

  Mattice, who was on his way over on McGarvey’s call to see about admitting Elizabeth at least overnight. “Good heavens, Liz, we were all so worried about you,” Peggy Vaccaro said in a soft voice, getting up. They hugged lightly. “How are you?” “I’ve been better,” Elizabeth said. “How’s my mother?” “A lot better.” Vaccaro looked over at McGarvey. “Dr. Love was in again this morning, and they did another test downstairs. An EKG, I think, and something else. We didn’t know exactly what time Liz was coming in, and the doctor wanted Mrs. M. to get some rest, so he gave her a light sedative.” “Did he say anything about her condition?” Elizabeth asked. Peggy Vaccaro smiled. “That’s the good news. She’s going to be okay.” Again she looked at McGarvey.

  “She can go home tomorrow morning at the latest, Mr. Director. That’s really good news.” “Yes, it is,” McGarvey agreed. He watched the play of emotions across his daughter’s face. When he and Katy separated, Elizabeth had blamed herself for the divorce. She felt as if she hadn’t been a good enough daughter to keep them together. It was because of her that her parents no longer wanted to live together. The same expression of guilt creased her face now with lines of worry and doubt. It was because of her that her mother was here like this.

  Elizabeth brushed a wisp of her mother’s hair off her forehead, then bent down and kissed her cheek. “She’s going to be really happy to see you,” Peggy Vaccaro said. “I’m not going anywhere, Peg,” Elizabeth said. She turned to her father. “I’ll stay here with Mom until she wakes up. Take Otto back to work.” “I’ll leave Todd here,” McGarvey said. “Yeah,” Elizabeth replied absently. She looked at her mother.

  “He and I have some things to work out.”

  McGarvey’s heart went out to his daughter. He wanted to cradle her in his arms for the rest of her life, to protect her from the demons and gremlins. But he couldn’t do it. Leastways not like that. “It’ll be okay, baby.” “I know it will, Daddy, because we’ll make it so.” She looked at him. She was crying again. “You’ll make it so.”

  TWENTY-NINE

  IT WAS AS IF HE WERE BEING TEASED BY SOME TRUTH, SOME SUDDEN INSIGHT THAT WOULD MAKE EVERYTHING CLEAR TO HIM.

  CIA HEADQUARTERS

  McGarvey rode alone in the backseat out to Langley, Otto once again up front with Yemm, content to be alone for a little while with his thoughts. Idly he watched the traffic. In a way Washington was like Los Angeles. People were on the go, moving, always in a hurry. Nothing stayed the same. Everything was in a constant state of change.

  Focusing on any one thing or person for very long was more difficult than ever. Cell phones and the Internet had not isolated people as many critics had predicted. The new technologies brought people together. But only superficially. These days you were far less likely to talk to a neighbor three houses away than you were to an anonymous chat room personality halfway around the world. And now there was terrorism. It was an issue of trust. McGarvey understood the concept at the gut level. But it was a forgotten muscle in his body, a gene that somehow had not been switched on at birth. And the harder he tried to trust people, the more he wanted it, the more he wanted to rely on someone, to go back-to-back with them for protection against the world, the more difficult it became. After Santiago he had run to Switzerland to lick his wounds. It was the most neutral place on earth that he could think of. The CIA had abandoned him, the Senate over site committee, one of whose key members was Darby Yarnell, had thrown him to the wolves, and even Katy had given him an ultimatum: “Me or the CIA.” So he had bailed out. The Swiss Federal Police knew who he was, of course, and his presence in Lausanne made them nervous. Not enough to kick him out of the country, but enough to send three cops to watch over him. One was Dortmund Fiielm, who became his partner in a bookstore. The second was a young woman who passed herself off as Fiielm’s daughter. She kept trying to get McGarvey to sleep with her.

  And the third was Marta Fredricks, who shared his apartment, his bed and his life until the end, when he was recalled to Washington. She had fallen in love with him, and their parting had been difficult for both of them. “But I love you, Kirk. Doesn’t that mean something to you?” McGarvey lowered his head. Marta said that to him the day he walked out on her in Lausanne. And she said it to him again in Paris, where she had come looking for him. He rejected her both times because he was not able to trust her, not even a little. The first time her heart had been broken, and the second time in Paris, when he had sent her away, she was killed in the crash of a Swissair flight. He could never forget her last words, or the look on her face. They crossed the river and went down the Parkway to the CIA. The afternoon was clouding over. It looked like snow again. They were passed through the gate, and Yemm pulled up at the executive entrance. McGarvey let himself out and went inside. Otto and Yemm came right behind him. “I’ve got work to do,” Otto mumbled, and, head down, he hurried off to the computer center. “Are you going to need me, boss?” Yemm asked. “No.” Yemm hesitated just a moment. “Liz is going to be okay, and so is Mrs. M.

  now that we know what’s going on.” McGarvey looked at his bodyguard curiously. “What’s going on?” “Somebody’s after you, and they’re not above going after your family to get to you.” Yemm shrugged pragmatically. “Except for the chopper pilot on Hans Lollick, nobody’s been killed.”

  Scratching, nagging, worrying at the back of his head. He wanted to run. “Except for the baby,” McGarvey said, and he took the elevator upstairs leaving Dick Yemm standing flat-footed in the corridor. Ms.

  Swanfeld was waiting for him when he barged through the outer office and into his office. She took his coat, hung it up, then got him a cup of coffee, into which she poured a healthy measure of brandy. “I thought that you could use this,” she said, setting it down on the desk. He smiled tiredly. “The boss isn’t supposed to be a drunk.”

  She smiled faintly. “President Lincoln had the same problem with Grant.” “I wish it was that simple,” he said. “What’s on the schedule?” “You’re supposed to be on the Hill at two.” “Not today.”

  “Very well. Mr. Paterson thought that might be the case. He would like a few minutes of your time this afternoon.” “Whenever he’s free.”

  “
Barry Willis of the New York Times is coming at five-thirty for a backgrounder on the Havana incident. But I suspect that he will actually ask you questions about the Virgin Islands.” “Reschedule him for sometime next week.” “Yes, sir,” she said. “In that case, except for Mr. Paterson, you are free for the remainder of the day.” “I want a staff meeting at five. I’d like to see the preliminary NIE and Watch Reports. I’d like to speak with Fred Rudolph at some point, and then the President.” McGarvey glanced at the door to Adkins’s office. “Is Dick here this afternoon?” “Yes, sir. But he had a terrible night of it. Mrs. Adkins is back in the hospital.” McGarvey felt terrible for him. “I’ve tried to force him to take a leave of absence. But he won’t do it.” “Neither would you, Mr. Director,” Ms. Swanfeld countered sternly. “But I’m-” “Indispensable?” she asked. He was going to say under fire, but he just shook his head. “Point well taken.” “How is Elizabeth?” “She won’t let go of the teddy bear. She says to tell everybody thanks.” Ms. Swanfeld smiled warmly.

  “She’s black-and-blue, and her back hurts, but she wanted to come back to work this afternoon.”

  “Good heavens. Pardon me, sir, but you are not going to allow that child to resume her duties this soon, are you?”

  “No, they’re keeping her overnight at the hospital, and she’ll be out on sick leave for at least a week. Maybe longer. My wife will be returning home, probably tomorrow morning. I’ll see if I can’t convince Elizabeth to come home to help out. Her mother could use her.”

  “Indeed,” Ms. Swanfeld said. Her manner brightened, as if a burden had been lifted. “I’ll go make your calls.”

  “Give me a half hour.”

  “Yes, Mr. Director.” Ms. Swanfeld went to the door. “I’m glad Elizabeth is back safe and sound.”