Robert Ludlum - The Parcifal Mosaic.txt
Page 37
should contact with KGB Northwest Sector be required. We tested the code
and got a response; it was authentic."
Brooks raised his left hand no more than a few inches above the surface of
the dais, the gesture of a man used to commanding attention. "General
Halyard and I are familiar with much of this, albeit not the specifics. I
assume there's, a reason for your restating it in such detail."
"There is, Mr. Ambassador," agreed Bradford. "It concerns Daniel Stem.
Please bear with me."
"Then while you~re at it," said the general, "how did you verify that KGB
code?"
"By using the three basic maritime frequencies for that area of the
Mediterranean. It's standard procedure for the Soviets."
"Thaesprettydamn simple of them, isn't it?"
"I'm no exper~ General, but I'd say it's pretty damn smart. rve studied the
way we do it-rve had to-and I'm not sure ours is more effective. The
frequencies we select are usually the weaker ones, not always clear, and
easily jammed if discovered. You don1 tamper with maritime channels, and no
286 RoBEnT LuDLum
matter how much traffic, the codes get through within a reasonable period of
time."
"You're very impressive," said Brooks.
"I've had a series of crash courses during the past three months. Thanks to
an executive order from the President, Ive also had the benefit of the best
brains in the intelligence community.
"The reason for that executive order was not explained," interrupted
Berquist, glancing at the older men, then turning back to Bradford. "All
right, you verified the KGB code to be authentic."
"It was the most incriminating document in that suitcase; it couldrA have
been faked. So her name was put through the wheels at Central
Intelligence-very deep wheels." Bradford paused. "As you may or may not
know, General-Mr. Ambassador-it was at this point that I came on the scene.
I didn't seek to be included; I was sought out by men I'd worked with
during the Johnson administration ... and in Southeast Asia."
"Remnants of the benevolent AID in Vientiane who stayed with the Agency?"
asked Halyard sardonically.
.Tes'. replied the undersecretary; there was no apology in his answer. "Two
men whose wide experience in undercover operations-favorable and
unfavorable-led them to become what's called source controls for informants
deep within the Soviet apparatus. They phoned me at home one night, said
they were at a local bar in Berwyn and why didn1 I join them for a
drink-old tirnes' sake. When I said it was late, the one I was talking to
pointed out that it was also late for them, and Berwyn Heights was a long
drive from McLean and Langley. I understood and joined them."
"I've never heard this," interrupted the former ambassador. "Am I to infer
that these men did not report back through normal channels but, instead,
went directly to you?"
"Yes, sir. They were disturbed."
Mank God for the con-anunfon of past sinners," said the President. "When
they returned to those normal channels, they did it our way. It was beyond
their scope, they reported. They pulled out and left it in Bradford's lap."
"The information requested about the Karas woman was a basic intelligence
query," said Halyard. "Why were they disturbed?"
THE PARsrFAL MosATc287
"Because it was a highly negative inquiry that presupposed the subject was
too deep, too concealed for CIA detection. She was going to be found guilty
no matter what the Agency came back with."
"Tben it was the arrogance that angered themP" suggested Brooks.
"No, they're used to that from State. What disturbed them was that the
supposition couldn~t possibly be true. They reached five separate sources
in Moscow, none aware of the others-moles who had access to every black Me
in the KGB. Each probe came back negative. She was clean, but someone at
State wanted her dirty. When one of the.men routinely called an aide of
Matthias to get further background from Cons Op, he was told simply to send
back a nonproductive report-State had everything it needed. In other words,
she was hanged no matter what the Agency returned, and the source control
had the distinct impression that whatever was sent back to State would be
buried. But Jenna Karas was no part of the KGB and never had been."
"How did your friends explain the KGB code?" asked the soldier.
"Someone in Moscow provided it," said Bradford. "Someone working with or
for Matthias."
Again the silence on the dais suggested the unthinkable, and once again it
was broken by the general. -We ruled that outl" he cried.
"rd like to revive it," said Bradford quietly.
"We've explored the possibility to the point of exhaustion," said Brooks,
staring at Bradford. "Practically and conceptually, there's no merit in the
theory. Matthias is inexorably bound to Parsifal; one does not exist
without the other. If the Soviet Union had any knowledge of Parsifal, ten
thousand multiple warheads would be in position to destroy half our cities
and all our military installations. The Russians would have no choice but
to launch, posing their final questions after the Ent strike. We have
intelligence penetration to alert us to any such missile deployment;
there's been no such alert. In your words, Mr. Bradford, time is the only
thing on our side."
"III stay with that judgment, Mr. Ambassador. Still, the KGB code found its
way into the manufactured evidence
288 RoBLmT LunLum
against the Karas woman even though she was clean. I can't believe it was
for sale."
"Why not?" asked the general. "What isn't for saier
"Not a code like that. You don't buy a code that changes periodically,
erratically, with no set schedule of change."
"Whafs your point?" Halyard interrupted.
"Someone in Moscow had to provide that code," said Bradford, raising his
voice. "We may be closer to Parsifal than we think."
"What's your thesis, Mr. Undersecretary?" Brooks leaned forward, his elbow
on the dais.
, "Theres someone hying to find Parsifal as frantically as we are-for the
same reasons we are. Whoever he is, he!s here in Washington-he may be
someone we see every day, but we don~t know who he is. I only know be's
working for Moscow, and the difference between him and us right now is that
hes been looking longer than we have. He knew about Parsifal before we did.
And that means someone in Moscow knows." Bradford paused. "rbaes the reason
for the most God-awful crisis this country has ever faced-the world has ever
faced. Ther(A a mole here in Washington who could tip the balance of
power-of basic global recognition of our physical and moral superiority,
which is power-if he reaches Parsifal first. And he may, because he knows
who he is and we donI."
is
The man in the dark overcoat and low-brimmed hat that shadowed his face
climbed out of the two-toned coupe; with difficulty he avoided stepping into
a wide puddle by the driveis door. The sounds of the night rain were
everywhere, pinging off the hood and
splattering against the glass of the
windshield, thumping the vinyl roof and erupting, in the myriad pools that
had formed throughout the deserted parking area on the banks of the Potomac
River. The man reached into his pocket, took out a gold-plated butane
lighter and ignited it. No sooner had the flame erupted than he extinguished
it; replacing the lighter in his pocket, he kept his gloved hand there. He
walked to the railing and looked down at the wet foliage and the border of
thick mud that disappeared into the black flowing water. He raised his head
and scanned the opposite shoreline; the lights of Washington flickered in
the downpour. Hearing the footsteps behind him, leather scraping over the
soaked gravel, he turned. -
A man approached, coming into view through blocks of darkness. He wore a
canvas poncho printed with the erratic shapes of green and black that
denoted military issue. On his head w*as a heavy wide-brimmed leather hat,
a cross between a Safari and a Digger. The face beneath the hat was
thirtyish, hard, with a stubble of a beard and dull eyes set far apart,
which could barely be seen between the squinting
289
290 ROBERT LXTDLUM
flesh. He had been drinking; the grin that followed recognition was as
grotesque as the rest of him.
"Hey, how about it, huhl" cried the man in the poncho, his speech guttural,
slurred. "Whaml Splatl Boom . . . kaboomf Like a fuckin' gook ri~kyshaw hit
by a tankl Whand You never seen nothin' like itl
11 Very fine work," said the man in the overcoat.
"You betch-er assl I caught 'em at the pass, and kabooml Hey, I can't
hardly see you. It is you, aidt itr
"Yes, but you disappoint me."
"Why? I did goodl"
"You've been drinking. I thought we agreed you wouldrA."
"A couple of balls, that's all. In my room, not at no gin mill ... no sirl"
"Did you talk with anyone?"
"Christ, twl"
"How did you get out here?"
"Like you said. On a bus . . . three buses . . . and I walked the last
couple of miles."
"In the road?"
"Off it. Way off, like it was an S and D in Danang."
"Good. You've earned your R and R."
'Hey, Major ... ? Sorry, I mean ... sir."
OWhat is it?"
"How come there was nothin' in the papers? I mean it was one big blowl
Musta' burned for hours, seen for a couple of miles. How come?"
"They weren't important, Sergeant. They were only what I told you they
were. Bad men who betrayed people like you and me, who stayed over here and
let us get killed."
"Yeah, well I evened a few scores. I guess I should go back now, hu~? To
the hospital."
. You don't have to." The civilian who had been addressed as "Major" calmly
took his gloved hand out of his pocket. In it was a .22-caliber automatic,
concealed by the darkness and the rain. He raised it at his side and fired
once.
The man fell, his bleeding head sinking into the wet poncho. The civilian
stepped forward, wiping the weapon against the cloth of his overcoat. He
knelt down and spread the fingers of the dead man~s right hand.
THE PARSWAL MOSAIC291
The two-tone coupe rounded the curve in the backeountry road, the headlights
sweeping over a rock-strewn Maryland field, the high grass bending under the
force of the wind and the night rain. The driver in the dark overcoat and
lowbrimmed hat saw what he expected to see and slowed down, switching off
the lights before coming to a stop. On the shoulder of the road, standing
motionless by a barbed-wire fence, was a glistening white ambulance, the
license plates those of the federal government, the black lettering on the
door proclaiming co-ownership with the taxpayer as well as the
identification: BETmsDA NAvAL HosprrAL, EmERGENCY umrr 14.
The driver drove the coupe alongside the long white vehicle. He took out
his lighter, flicked the top and held the flame briefly toward the opposite
window. The door of the ambulance opened, and a man in his late twenties
jumped out into the rain, big government-issue raincoat parting to reveal
the white uniform of a hospital attendant.
The driver lowered the right window by pressing a button above his armrest.
"Get inl" be yelled through the sound of the downpour. 'Youll get soaked
out therel"
The man climbed in, slamming the door shut and wiping his face with his
right hand. He was Hispanic, his large eyes two stones of shining hard
coal, his hair jet-black, matted to the dark skin of his forehead.
'You owe me, mama," said the Latin. "Oh, big mama owes me one big mont& de
dinero."
"Youll be paid, although I suppose I could say that you simply canceled an
old debt you owed me."
"Olvidalo, mama Majorl"
"You would have been executed in the field or still be pushing rocks around
Leavenworth if it weren't for me. Don't you forget it, Corporal.-
"I wasted that sbrinker for youl You payl"
"You wasted-as you put it-two MP's in Pleiku who caught you stealing
narcotics from a Med-Evae truck. Weren~t you lucky I was around? Two more
MIXs in a river."
"Sure, mama, real luckyl Who was the puerco who told me about the truck?
You, Majorl"
I knew you were enterprising. These past years rve kept
292 RoBEnT LUDLUM
my eye on you. You never saw me, but I saw you. I always knew where to find
you, because debts should be paid."
"Yeah, well, you're wrong, Major. I saw you the other night on the TV news.
You were getting out of a big limousine in New York. At the United Nations
place, wasn't it? It was you, wasn't itl"
"I doubt it."
"Sure, it wasl I know big mama when I see her. You must be somethingl You
pay, mama. You're going to pay a lot."
. My God ' you're irritating."
-just pay me."
'Ile gun first," said the man in the overcoat. "I gave it to you and I want
it back. I protected you; no one could trace it ballistically."
The hospital attendant reached into his raincoat. pocket and took out a
small gun, identical in size and caliber with the weapon the driver of the
coupe had used an hour ago in a parking area overlooking the Potomac.
"You won't find no bullets in it," said the Hispanic, holding out the
automatic in the darkness. "Here, take it."
"Give it to me."
"Take itl For Christ's sake, I can't see nothin~ in herel Ouchl Shitl What
the hell ... ?"
The driver's hand had slipped beyond the short barrel of
the weapon, pushing the attendant's wide sleeve partially up
his forearm. " Sorry, " said the man in the overcoat. "My class
ring is twisted. Did I scrape you?"
"Forget it, mama. The money. Give me the fuckin! dinerol"
"Certainly." The man took the gun and slipped it into his pocket. He picked
up his lighter from his lap and ignited it; on the seat between them was a
stack of money held together with an elastic band. "Mere it is. Fifty
one-bundreddollar bills-laundered, of course. Do you want to count it?"
"What for? I know where I can find you now,"
said the attendant, opening
the door. "And you're going to see a lot of me, big mama."
"I look forward to it," replied the driver.
The wind again whipped the attendant's raincoat away from his white uniform
as he slammed the door and started toward the ambulance. The man in the
coupe leaned over in the shadows, watching through the opposite window with
his
THE PARsxFAL MosAic293
flngers on the door latch beside him, prepared to leap out of the car the
instant he saw what he expected to see.
The attendant began to stagger, rushing forward off balance, his arms
stretched out, his hands clutching the side of the ambulance. He raised his
head and screamed, the rain pounding his face; three seconds later he
collapsed on the wet grass.
. The man in the overcoat Jumped out of the coupe and walked around the
trunk while removing a tubular glass object from his left pocket. He reached
the attendant, knelt down and pushed the wide sleeve up the immobile arm. He
then adjusted the glass vial in his left hand and, with his right, extracted
a hypodermic needle. He plunged it into the soft flesh, depressed the shaft
until the vial of white liquid was emptied into the arm, and let the long
needle remain where it was, firmly embedded in the skin. Reaching across the
attendant's body, he pulled the lifeless hand toward the vial, pressed the
fingers around the glass tube, with the thumb firmly down on the plunger,
and then let the hand fall away.
The man stood up, seeing in the night light the scattered bills, many held
in place by the weight of the attendanes body. He turned and opened the
door of the ambulance; the inside was neat, the equipment in place, as
befitted a trusted employee of the Bethesda Naval Hospital. He took out the
small automatic from his pocket and threw it onto the seat. He then reached
inside his overcoat for the contents of another pocket. Four additional
glass vials, two filled, two empty. He checked the labels; each read the
same:
Bethesda Naval Hospital
Security-Control-Supply
Contents: C17 H,9 N08 H20
MORPFE11M
He held them out and dropped them on the floor of the ambulance.
Suddenly a gust of wind came swirling off the field, forcing the rain to