Guilt by Silence

by Taylor Smith

  “What about Frank? How’s he doing?”

  “He’s in deep mourning for his son. It hurts to see the guilt he’s putting himself through, because whatever mistakes he might have made, Frank did everything he was capable of doing for his family.” Mariah shook her head sadly. “I’d give anything to erase what happened between him and me.”

  “Except Lindsay,” Chaney noted. “And even if you could, it still wouldn’t have made Frank and his son compatible. Theirs is an old story, you know. It happens all the time. It sounds like Stephen lived uneasily for most of his life, on the margins and in the shadow of his father. You didn’t make him into the unhappy man he turned out to be.”

  “Maybe. But I didn’t help, either. Anyway, it’s hard for me to feel too sorry for Stephen after what he did to David and Lindsay, but I worry about Frank. Patty Bonelli has really stood by him through all this, though. She’s good for Frank and she won’t let him get too far down. I have a feeling that when the dust settles, the two of them might finally get married. Frank’s decided to take early retirement—maybe that’s good, I’m not sure. He’s been working so hard for such a long time, but I have difficulty imagining Langley without him.”

  “And what about Mariah Bolt? What does she do now?”

  “Professionally, you mean? I’ve been offered a job in the CIA’s nuclear nonproliferation unit, helping to keep tabs on the Russian arsenal and all the crazies out there who want a bigger bang for their buck.”

  “Mariah, what happened to the five scientists from the so-called tanker accident?”

  “You’re not going to broadcast this, are you?”

  “You know I’m not. I just hate loose ends.”

  “They’re resettled under new identities and they’ll be doing consulting work as the need arises. No,” Mariah added, catching his look, “not that kind. Neville kept his word. Henceforth, CHAUCER is defunct. But their expertise is going to be critical in the next few years.”

  “That phantom nuke in the New Year’s hijacking at JFK—that was their work, wasn’t it? It was one of the duds that Neville said they’d already found a buyer for.”

  She shrugged. “I’m not sure. I was out of the loop while I was on leave. But personally, yeah, I’d bet the farm on it. This disinformation campaign is just to keep all the bad guys out there guessing. They’re not to know that possessing the stolen weapon tagged that gang, but they are supposed to be very worried about what exactly we’re capable of. And you may not quote me on that, Paul Chaney.”

  “Let’s get one thing straight, Mariah. I intend, at the very least, to remain your close personal friend. And I promise that nothing you and I discuss will ever find its way into my work, unless you tell me it’s all right. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “So, are you going to take this new job?”

  “I’m not sure,” Mariah said. “Part of me just wants to walk away from the whole stinking business. I used to think it was just the cowboys in covert ops who lose their moral compass from time to time and that we analysts were untouched by all that. When I started out, I thought I knew why it was important to do this work. But the more I know about politics and human frustration and all the just and unjust causes out there, the more I know it’s not that simple.”

  “You mean one man’s terrorist is another man’s freedom fighter.”

  “It’s true, isn’t it? The fact is, there are times when we’re not necessarily the guys wearing the white hats. And often as not, there are no white or black hats—just a lot of shades of gray.”

  “Are you telling me there aren’t any absolutes in this world worth fighting for?”

  Mariah frowned, turning to watch Lindsay and Jack join a line of kids playing crack-the-whip on the ice. “I’ll tell you what’s absolute for me, Paul—the need to keep them safe. Not just our children, all of them. It’s what David believed, too. Somehow we have to try to get the genie back in the bottle. Our kids are inheriting the legacy of Los Alamos and the arms race, and there are consequences those blue-sky guys never envisaged when they started tinkering in the lab with their ‘gadgets.”’

  “Sounds to me like you’ve just talked yourself into a job.”

  “Maybe I have,” Mariah agreed, turning back with a smile. It vanished as she looked behind him and saw three people climb out of a limo that had pulled up on Constitution Avenue.

  Chaney followed her gaze across that park. “Well, well,” he said, “look who’s here—George Neville and Angus Ramsay McCord. Who’s that woman with them, I wonder?”

  Mariah had already started walking. “It’s Tanya!”

  “Tanya?”

  “Tatyana Baranova, Paul! The Russian woman who was responsible for CHAUCER.”

  With her eyes fixed on Tanya, Mariah strode quickly toward the limo. The pleasant round face was now thin and drawn, the once-rosy flush faded to an unhealthy pallor. Deep circles made her eyes look sunken and her blond hair was lank and dull. She was wearing what appeared to be an expensive blue woolen coat, but Mariah could see that she had lost an incredible amount of weight. Still, Tanya smiled as Mariah reached the sidewalk. No one said a word as the two women embraced.

  “Oh, Tanya!” Mariah said when she finally stepped back to look at her again. “It’s so good to see you, you have no idea.”

  “It’s good to see you, too, Mariah. And very, very good to be here.”

  “How are you? What happened to you?”

  “Someone from our embassy followed me one day when I was on my way to meet you. I know a car pulled up beside me on the street, but I don’t remember very much after that—not for a long time. They took me back to Russia. There were drugs, questions—it’s all very vague to me. When I finally became aware of my surroundings again, I was in prison. I was there for many months, until three days ago, in fact. And now, here I am.”

  “Tanya, I’m so sorry! Can you ever forgive me?”

  “Forgive you? There is nothing to forgive. I came to you of my own free will. Remember once, you said it was the right thing to do? It was. I have never regretted it. Someone had to speak up.”

  “You’re a very brave woman, Tatyana Baranova.”

  “And you. But Mariah, they told me about Dr. Tardiff, that he died.” Mariah nodded sadly. “Oh, the poor, fine man!” Tanya exclaimed.

  “Yes, he was, Tanya. We miss him very much.”

  “And your little Lindsay? How is she?”

  “Pretty well, all things considered. But she’s not so little anymore. In fact, she’s over there skating, working on her hockey moves,” Mariah added, smiling. “Come over and see her.”

  Tanya smoothed her hair self-consciously and shook her head. “I do not want her to see me like this. I am not at my best and she would not understand. Perhaps another time? Perhaps you will visit me in California? You told me once that is where you come from.”

  “You’re going to California?”

  “Yes. Mr. McCord here and his wife have kindly invited me to stay with them for a while.”

  Mariah turned to the wiry little man standing beside Tanya. She had seen him dozens of times, of course, in photographs and on television, but she wasn’t prepared for how utterly ordinary he looked. Only the piercing copper eyes revealed the man’s relentless drive.

  “You’ll stay with us as long as you like, Tanya,” McCord said, “and then we’ll set you up in a home of your own, wherever you choose and whenever you feel ready.”

  George Neville stepped forward. “Mariah Bolt, Paul Chaney—this is Mr. Angus McCord. I’m sure you recognize him, of course.”

  “Call me Gus, everybody does,” McCord said, pumping their hands in turn. “Ms. Bolt, Mr. Chaney, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve been hearing fine things about both of you.”

  “We’ve heard a lot about you, too,” Mariah said dryly.

  “Mr. McCord is responsible for getting Ms. Baranova out of Russia, Mariah.” Neville’s tone was that of a disapproving parent to an ill-mannered child
. “We finally managed to locate her, but without his influence, I don’t think we could have sprung her. The country’s in chaos right now, and there’s just no single authority we could appeal to for her release.”

  “But money always clears a path, doesn’t it?” Mariah remarked.

  “The good Lord’s been generous with me,” McCord said. “I’ve never been reluctant to spread the luck around by spending money on a good cause.”

  “Well,” Mariah said, looking back at Tanya, “this was definitely a good cause.”

  “Yes, ma’am, I do believe it was,” McCord agreed. “This lady is a genuine heroine and she’ll want for nothing for the rest of her days—you have my word on that. We’re going to help her get her health back and get her settled where it’s warm and sunny, and then she can decide what she’d like to do next.”

  “Will you come to visit me, Mariah?” Tanya asked. “You and Lindsay? I would like that very much.”

  Mariah smiled at her and nodded. “It’s ages since I last set foot in California. I think it’s about time I took a trip home and showed Lindsay her roots. Maybe at Easter.”

  “Mr. Chaney,” McCord said, turning away from the two women, “I was hoping you and I could discuss a little business. I know you’re at loose ends these days and—”

  “You’re wrong, Mr. McCord. I was at loose ends—as you well know—but not anymore.”

  “Oh, I see. Well, that’s good to hear. I knew you’d bounce back, resourceful fellow like you. In fact, I told the other members of the CBN board last week that a terrible mistake was made when we let you slip away. We agreed that you were capable of handling any job at the network you might want, any job at all. Maybe we could still persuade you to rejoin?”

  “No, I don’t think so. And by the way, I sent back my severance check.”

  “There was no need to do that.”

  “Oh, yes, there was. You can do a lot with your money, McCord, but you can’t buy me. And as for your late buddy, Dieter Pflanz—”

  “Mr. Chaney!” Neville protested. “You can’t believe Mr. McCord knew or would ever have approved of—”

  “Maybe. I wish I were certain of that. In any event, the man was in his employ. By all rights, McCord, I should have blown the whistle on you the minute that Lear touched down from New Mexico. But I made a deal with Neville here, and I’ll stick to my side of the bargain if you stick to yours.” Chaney glanced at Mariah and Tanya. “You’re getting a freebie on this one, but don’t expect me to keep quiet in future if you pull another stunt like that illegal arms operation.”

  McCord opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again and nodded soberly.

  “There’s just one more thing,” Chaney added.

  “What’s that?”

  “Tell me you don’t really have the gall to run for office after all this.”

  “There are people lining up out there whose motives are far less patriotic than mine, Mr. Chaney.”

  “That may be, but frankly, they don’t scare me nearly as much as you do.”

  McCord’s eyes bored into the reporter, but Chaney was uncowed. “Ever hear of Webster’s Law, Mr. Chaney?” the billionaire asked finally.

  “Webster?”

  “As in Daniel Webster. He once wrote, ‘Nothing will ruin the country if the people themselves undertake its safety, and nothing can save it if they leave that safety in any hands but their own.’ Well, that about sums up how I feel. I can’t stand back and leave the country’s safety in someone else’s hands.”

  “I don’t think Daniel Webster had you personally in mind when he wrote that, Mr. McCord. Just the opposite, in fact. I think he meant that all of us have to play a part in safeguarding the best things about this country and this world we live in. That means getting involved, not sitting back and waiting for some father figure to come along and do it for us. And it means keeping an eye on people like you who try to buy their way past the checks on power that keep a democracy from turning into a dictatorship—however ‘benevolent.”’

  McCord shrugged and cocked his head in the direction of the Capitol building a few blocks to the east. “Well, you can rest easy, Mr. Chaney. I’m not really interested in wasting my time on the tomfoolery that goes on up there, anyway. Man would have to be a masochist to want to get into politics. No, I’m thinking more along the lines of retirement. My wife’s been a little under the weather and we’re not getting any younger. I’d like more time with my family, and we want to get Tanya settled in. So here’s an exclusive for you—Gus McCord has ruled out running for elected office. It’s time to pass the torch to you young ones now.”

  “And on that note,” Neville said, stepping forward, “you and Ms. Baranova have a plane waiting, Gus. Mariah, I hope you don’t mind our tracking you down like this, but Tanya was hoping to see you again and I thought you’d like to know that she’s safe now.”

  “It’s the best news I’ve had in a very long time,” Mariah said. “Tanya, I worried about you after you disappeared. I hope nothing bad ever happens to you again. Mr. Neville has my address and phone number. Call me as soon as you’re settled and we’ll have a good, long talk and see about that visit.”

  “I will, Mariah. And give Lindsay my love, please.”

  Mariah nodded as Tanya and the two men climbed into the car and drove off. When she turned again toward Paul, he was frowning after the limo. “Do you think McCord’s really going to retire?” she asked as they headed back toward the skating rink.

  “I think he meant it when he said it just now,” Chaney replied. “The question is, will he still mean it tomorrow? Guys like McCord don’t retire till they’re dead. He’s already done everything there is to do in the areas of business and charity work. I’m not sure he could resist the temptation of running a one-man government if the opportunity arose.”

  “The scuttlebutt at Langley says that Neville’s getting ready to announce his retirement.”

  “Has someone stumbled onto what he and McCord and Pflanz were up to?”

  Mariah shrugged. “Not that I know of. Even Frank Tucker wasn’t in on all the details. He’d been working with them on the plan to get hold of those weapons Tanya told us about, but knew nothing about the illegal arms dealing. Neville had played that card very close to his chest. Of course,” Mariah added, “Neville knows you know and he’ll never be certain you won’t break the story. My guess is that those guys wanted for you, even more than me, to see Tanya—to drive home the message that their motives were pure, even if their method was dubious.”

  “I’m not going to break this story.”

  She looked up at him. “I know, and I know why. To protect Lindsay and me.”

  Chaney nodded. “The ironic thing, of course, is that it really has nothing to do with you. Neville’s scheme probably would have gone undetected if Stephen Tucker hadn’t muddied the waters with his desire for personal revenge.”

  “No wonder Neville seemed so confused about what was going on when I confronted him at Frank’s Christmas party. He must have been completely panicked at the way things were unraveling, without having a clue why it was happening. Now it’s all over, and Neville will probably follow a long line of ex-covert ops guys making a fortune as security consultants.”

  “We know one corporation that’s looking for a new security chief, don’t we?” Chaney said grimly.

  Mariah nodded.

  Lindsay and Jack were waiting at the edge of the rink when they arrived back. “Where did you guys go, Mom?”

  “I ran into an old friend I hadn’t seen in a while,” Mariah said. “We were just catching up on each other’s news. I’ll tell you about it later.”

  “How are you two doing?” Paul asked. “Had enough?”

  “No way!” Jack said.

  “Yeah, no way!” Lindsay agreed. “Come on, Mom, you promised you were going to give this a try.”

  “Aw, Lins, you’re not going to hold me to that, are you? I like my water sports in liquid form—not t
his frozen stuff.”

  “You could do it, if you’d only try. Come on! It’s easy, and you’ve got my old skates.”

  “I can’t believe I’m old enough to have a kid with bigger feet than mine,” Mariah grumbled.

  Paul grinned. “You’re not going to escape. You know that, don’t you?”

  “Yeah!” Jack said. “No escape! You both gotta get out here!”

  “All right, all right. Give me a few minutes to get these ruddy things on.”

  “Five minutes,” Lindsay warned, “and then we come back and drag you guys out on the ice in your stocking feet if we have to. Right, Jack?”

  “Right!”

  “You’re tyrants, you know that?” Mariah called as they skated away, giggling. She watched them for a moment, head shaking. Then she sat on a bench, kicked off her boots and began tugging on Lindsay’s old blades. “I can’t believe I agreed to this.”

  Chaney had one of his skates already laced and was expertly doing up the second, a frown of concentration creasing his forehead. “Mariah?”

  “What?”

  “I know this isn’t the time or place, but despite what I said earlier about not pressuring, could you tell me one thing?”

  “What’s that?”

  He sat up. “Well, I’m a very patient man—positively dogged when I need to be—and I know when something’s worth waiting for. I think there’s something very special between you and me that’s definitely worth the wait. But tell me, am I crazy to be getting my hopes up like this?”

  Mariah focused intently on her laces, weaving them slowly through the eyelets on the boots. Finally, she straightened, staring straight ahead, and exhaled deeply. “I thought a lot of nasty things about you when we were in Vienna, Paul, things I mostly regret now. But you know what?” she said, looking over at him. “I never thought you were crazy.”