Countdown km-2

by David Hagberg

  “Yes, sir”

  “Baranov would naturally have a grudge against him” Murphy nodded. “If the Russians succeed this time the entire Middle East could fall. At the very least the entire region would become embroiled in an all-out war”

  the president gathered up the photographs and STANDHOPE file and handed them back to Murphy. “You have my authorization, Roland. Make your call to Shamir. Let’s just hope that this doesn’t blow up too badly, because a lot of people will start getting killed”

  CIA HEADQUARTERS

  Isser Shamir was an extremely early riser. Murphy knew that for a fact. The two of them went way back together, and when they’d both been promoted to head their respective secret intelligence services, they had continued their warm relationship. Shamir had even been Murphy’s house guest on a visit to Washington a few years ago. He was up every morning before five, making his own tea and then taking a long walk. Even so, Murphy held off calling until well after ten o’clock, making it after six in the morning in Tel Aviv. He wanted Shamir to be well rested and wide awake. He telephoned Shamir’s blind number. The director of the Mossad answered on the first ring, and Murphy would forever be left with the impression that the man had been waiting for the call. “Do you know who this is” Murphy asked.

  “Yes” Shamir answered. “Let’s go over” In this instance, the Israelis were using American-made telephone encryption equipment, as they had begun to do nearly ten years ago, like the secret services of a half-dozen other allies. “Good morning, Isser” Murphy said when the switch had been made. “Can you hear me all right”

  “Yes, just fine, General. How is the weather in Washington”

  “It’s warming up” Shamir chuckled. “Here as well” There was no doubt in either man’s mind that they were speaking about the same subject, and it wasn’t the weather. “There has been another incident at En Gedi” Murphy said. “We were hoping for cloud cover, but then we cannot have everything. “I’d like to propose a trade” Murphy said, getting right to it. “Yes, I am listening”

  “I will give you some information, and then you will give me something of equal importance” At this point there was no ironclad guarantee that McGarvey had been arrested, or, if he had that he was still alive. But all the signs pointed toward something happening out there at the same time Lorraine Abbott had said he was there. If there was one thing Murphy did not believe in, it was coincidences. “We always appreciate anything that you can do for us” Shamir said noncommittally. “You were aware, of course, of our recent troubles in West Germany involving a nuclear-armed Pershing missile. “Of course”

  “We’ve just learned that the rocket had been reprogrammed. Its target, which it would have almost certainly reached had it actually been launched, was En Gedi”

  “I see” Shamir said, and even in those two words Murphy could hear the man’s surprise.

  “The man who stopped the launch, at great risk to his life, was one of our people”

  “A true hero”

  “His name is Kirk Megarvey. And at this moment he is there in Israel”

  “Yes, we know this”

  “We need him back in Washington, Isser”

  “What is he doing here, General” Shamir asked pointedly. It was time now, Murphy thought. To every operation came moments of truth, sometimes so stunning they seemed, larger than life. “We know, Isser. He was sent to confirm “To spy on Israel, is that what you are telling me? Is that what you meant to say? Is that exactly your meaning now”

  “Let’s stop screwing around” Murphy snapped. “Here is the deal”

  “I’m listening”

  “The Russians broke in out there and almost certainly know what’s going on. It’s the only reason they would have gone to such extraordinary lengths, to steal a Pershing and reprogram it. The operation is, we believe, being handled by Valentin Baranov, and he won’t stop, you know this. We also believe that he has an agent highly placed within the Pentagon. We would like McGarvey back here to find him. We would be willing, under the circumstances, to make this a joint operation. It would be to both our interests” The line was silent. “Do I make myself clear”

  “Perfectly, General” Shamir said distantly. “I will have to take this up with my … superiors. I assume you have or will be doing the same”

  “The president is waiting for a call from Mr. Peres, if it comes to that. But I believe we can handle this among ourselves”

  “I will see what can be done” Shamir said. “But there will be at least one condition that we will insist upon. The NPT must be kept out of this. Completely”

  “I don’t understand “Dr. Abbott was arrested earlier this morning by AMAN on a charge of espionage”

  “Oh, Jesus Christ” Murphy swore softly. “If you say so” Shamir said.

  TEL AVIV

  The room was large, the bare walls and ceiling whitewashed, the flours tiled so that sounds seemed sharp and angular. McGarvey sat in a chair in the middle of the room. His five interrogators sat behind or perched on the edge of a long table, facing him. It was dawn finally and his head was splitting. He suspected they were in a Mossad safehouse somewhere in or near Tel Aviv. From time to time he could hear the sounds of traffic, and once he thought he might have heard a ship’s whistle from a long way off. Lev Potok got up and came over to McGarvey.

  He had been the toughest of the interrogators, his face was now screwed up in a grimace of disgust. “You are an assassin, McGarvey, this much we know for certain. What we would like to know is who you planned on killing out there”

  “No one” McGarvey said softly, relaxing, saving his strength. By now Lorraine Abbott would have realized that something had gone wrong and would have called the general. “Then what were you doing with an NPT identification badge and a gun? Can you tell me this”

  “Not yet” McGarvey replied, giving the same answer he’d given all night.

  It would be up to the Agency to decide what to tell the Israelis.

  He had gotten the information they’d wanted. “Not yet” Potok said. “It is a bullshit answer. What does this mean”

  “You’ll find out in due course” Potok suddenly swung around and slapped McGarvey in the face with his open hand, the blow rocking McGarvey backward, nearly tipping the chair over” Talk to me, you bastard, or you’ll never leave this room alive” Potok shouted. McGarvey shook his head to clear the fuzziness. He reached up with his right hand and touched his upper lip. His fingers came away bloody. “I’ll tell you this much” he said. “If you do that again, you won’t leave this room alive”

  Potok wanted to come after him, McGarvey could see that much in his eyes. But there was something else there as well, and it wasn’t fear.

  “Lev” one of the men at the table said gently. Potok turned away and went back to the table, where he hesitated for a moment, but then turned around again to face McGarvey. He leaned against the table.

  We know quite a bit about you, McGarvey” the Israeli said, calm again for the moment. “For instance, we know that you once worked for the CIA, and that you were, until a couple of years ago, in retirement in Switzerland. What has happened since”

  “I moved to Paris”

  “Yes, and what were you doing in Germany just last week” McGarvey said nothing. Potok shook his head. “We have reason to suspect that the Pershing missile which you so valiantly disarmed was aimed at us. For that we thank you. We are not the enemy. “If you know or have guessed that much, then you know that I’m not the enemy either”

  “Then why did you come to Israel, Mr. McGarvey? You came to spy, I think, and not to kill anyone. But why? Are you a free lance these days, or has the CIA rehired you”

  “I can’t tell you that yet” Potok threw up his hands in disgust. “You are treading on exceedingly dangerous grounds with us. In Israel we shoot spies”

  “We might have to start shooting yours then as well” McGarvey retorted.

  It had been Israel’s big embarrassment t
hat their operation to steal U.S. cruise missile plans had been discovered by the FBI. It had been called a “maverick” operation by Jerusalem, a statement that no one believed, but that everyone could live with. Potok was getting worked up again.

  “Everybody out of the room” he ordered. The others looked up at him in surprise. “We can’t do that, Lev” one of them said. “That’s a direct order, Abraham; you know what’s at stake here. Out. All of you”

  The man started to say something in Hebrew, but Potok cut him off. “Now”

  he shouted. “All right” the man said, and he got up and left the room with the other three without a backward glance. When the door closed Potok managed a tight little smile. He reached over and shut off the tape recorder. “Now it is just you and I. McGarvey did not want to hurt the man who was only doing his job the best he knew how. His back was against the wall. Twice in barely a week Israel’s most important secret had been compromised. First by the Russians and now by the CIA. But McGarvey wasn’t going to simply sit back and take whatever the Mossad wanted to do to him. He tensed. “Tell me about your relationship with Dr. Abbott, are you fucking her” Potok asked, the question completely unexpected. “What are you talking about? “She was under surveillance.

  When you and she pulled your little trick so that you could break out, she was arrested. Right now her main concern seems to be your well-being”

  McGarvey was careful to show no reaction. Had she had the time to call the general? If not, it would be up to Trotter to realize that something had gone wrong and to blow the whistle. But that could take time. “She has nothing to do with this” he said. “Ah, your concern is equally touching. But the fact of the matter is that she does have something very much to do with this. Enough for our charge of espionage against her to stick in court. But I asked you a question. Are you fucking her”

  “Up your ass”

  Potok snatched up a pistol from the table and pointed it directly at McGarvey’s head. “One question. Yes or no”

  “You will have a hard time justifying my death, Major Potok” McGarvey said, revealing for the first time that he knew who and what Potok was.

  “You were shot trying to escape”

  “No” McGarvey said. He folded his hands on his lap and crossed his legs. Potok cocked the pistol’s hammer, his aim never wavering. “How does it feel to have the tables reversed, assassin? No one will mourn your passing, I think” The door opened. Potok’s gaze shifted beyond McGarvey. Liebowitz said something in Hebrew, his tone definitely urgent. Potok seemed to waver. Liebowitz said something else. Slowly Potok’s gun hand came down. He uncocked the pistol, looked bleakly at McGarvey for several long seconds, and then left the room.

  MOSSAD HEADQUARTERS

  Potok sat in stunned-silence across the desk from Isser Shamir. What he had just been told confirmed their worst fears and suspicions. The Russians definitely knew about En Gedi and they were going to destroy the place at all costs. June thirtieth was the date.

  “As I said before, Israel is in a delicate position” Shamir continued.

  “We cannot bring diplomatic pressures to bear without admitting the truth”

  “All the work … all the years, the security” Shamir shook his leonine head, his eyes sad. “Haven’t you learned by now that trying to hold a secret is more difficult than trying to hold water in your hands?

  Ultimately impossible”

  “Then the weapons must be moved”

  “I agree. But this will take time, which you and Mr. McGarvey will provide for us” Potok sat forward. “What”

  “The Russians apparently have a source within the Pentagon, someone the CIA has code-named Feliks. You and Mr. McGarvey are going to return to Washington to find this leak and plug it” Potok was shaking his head in disbelief. “I don’t understand “The information that the Russians needed to reprogram the Pershing missile to strike En Gedi came from this Pentagon source”

  “Surely they won’t try to steal another missile” Potok argued. “Every American installation in the world will be watching for just such an attempt”

  “Perhaps you are right, Lev, perhaps not. The real issue, now ever, is somewhat more complicated. Valentin Baranov has planned this strike.

  Your Mr. McGarvey stopped him two years ago. Once he learns that Mcgarvey is again trying to interfere with one of his operations, the Russians will almost certainly go after him. “He will be a marked man”

  “Yes, but a man not to be underestimated. Once the Russians are drawn out, it will be up to the two of you to stop them. “I’m to work with him, then”

  “For him” Shamir corrected. “It is a strange world, isn’t it”

  JERUSALEM: THE HUNGARIAN EMBASSY

  Kurshin could hardly believe his ears.

  He was seated in the embassy’s basement communications room where he had come to find out about the American bitch, Lorraine Abbott, and now he was being told that she and McGarvey had left Israel. “You are sure” he asked. Yes, Comrade” Piotrovsky said. “I watched them board the flight for Paris” Why?

  Kurshin asked himself. First McGarvey had disappeared. Then the woman had been arrested, and now the two of them were on their way to Paris.

  It made no sense. “Can you get aboard that flight”

  “No”

  “Then we will have lost them” Kurshin screamed. “Pardon me, Comrade, but we do have resources in Paris. It should be a simple matter to trail them from there” The bastard was correct, of course. But Kurshin still could not get rid of the vision of McGarvey pulling the Pershing’s plugs, just as he might have unplugged a night light.

  They were not going to Paris, though. It was just a way point for them.

  Kurshin was almost one hundred percent convinced they were returning to Washington. “Make certain they do not go into Paris. They’ll probably be switching planes. For Washington. Do you understand”

  “Yes, Comrade. “Once they have left French soil your job will be done”

  Kurshin slammed down the telephone. Within twenty-four hours, forty-eight at the most, they would be dead. Both of them. He would see to it himself.

  WASHINGTON

  They’d switched planes at Paris’s Orly airport and as on the first leg of the trip, Lorraine Abbott maintained an uneasy silence.

  They traveled first class, and crossing the Atlantic she managed to get a few hours’ sleep or at least pretended to. She was angry that she had been pulled into this situation against her will, and now it would probably mean that her career would be sidetracked. The moment they got home, she’d told him even before they’d left the ground at Lod, she would go directly up to the NPT Inspection Service’s office at the UN in New York, make her report, and then try her best to forget the ugly incident had ever occurred. The pilot switched on the 747’s No Smoking and Fasten Seatbelt signs, and McGarvey gently nudged her. Her eyes came open immediately, and she glared at him. “We’re coming in. Put on your seatbelt” McGarvey said. She glanced out the window before she did as he told her. He studied the back of her head for that moment. She had a right to be angry, he thought. He had placed her life, and certainly her career, in jeopardy. Even though she was an NPT field inspector whose job it was to find out such things, her knowledge of what was really happening at En Gedi placed her in danger. He was going to have to ask Trotter to have the Agency do something for her. At least until this business was taken care of. At least she had called the general before her arrest. It’s what had started the wheels in motion. Potok had not returned, but an hour after he had left, McGarvey’s personal belongings had been returned to him, and he had been driven directly to the VIP lounge at the airport. They’d picked up his bag from his hotel. About his gun no one would comment. Lorraine had shown up a couple of minutes later, just as surprised to see him as he had been to see her. “Are you all right” he had asked when they were alone for just a second or two.

  “No thanks to you” she’d snapped, her eyes straying to the thick
bandage on his head. “What did you tell them”

  “Nothing” she said. “Because that’s exactly what I know” She turned away. It was just two in the afternoon when they touched down at Dulles Airport, and McGarvey went with Lorraine down the jetway into customs. A young man in a three-piece suit directed them away from the counters, and through a door that led directly out into the terminal. “We have a car waiting for you” he said. “Will either of you be needing medical assistance”

  “Who are you” McGarvey asked pointedly, before Lorraine could say anything.

  “Oh, sorry, sir” the young man said. He dug out his Agency identification. His name was Stanley Barker. “Mr. Trotter sent me out to pick you up”

  “That’s just fine” Lorraine said. “Now if you will just excuse me, I’ve got to see about a flight to New York”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am” Barker said, a little embarrassed. “But my instructions were to pick up both of you”

  “I demand.

  “Ma’am, Mr. O’Sheay is waiting for you. He asked me to assure you that all of your questions will be answered”

  “Mark is here, in Washington”

  “Yes, ma’am. In the area. I have a car just outside” She looked at McGarvey, a smug little grin of satisfaction on her lips. McGarvey figured she was going to get her answers, but they probably would not be ones she would care to hear. Crossing the terminal McGarvey spotted at least three men who were probably FBI surveillance people, and he allowed himself to relax for the first time since they’d left Israel.

  All the way across he’d gotten the uncomfortable feeling that the operation had been too loose. They had simply been kicked out of the country and left to fend for themselves. Considering the nature of his assignment, and the fact that they were carrying around in their heads the literal future of Israel, he had expected to be shadowed. But until now he had picked out no one. Outside, a dark gray Taurus pulled up.