The Kremlin operative also saw something else from the corner of his eye.
Panic gripped him when the black Volga, bearing KGB tags, turned down the same side street behind the American.
Dimitri froze, confused, not comprehending the gravity of the situation. The desire to flee almost overpowered his reasoning. He looked around, sensing other KGB agents near. Nothing appeared abnormal.
Dimitri made a snap decision. His contact, his only connection to the outside world, was in jeopardy. He had to do something. Now.
Think, he told himself. The words “be bold” came back to him. That’s what the American agent said he must be in order to survive and escape.
Dimitri hurried back across the street and followed the black car down the side street. Ahead he could see Wickham, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his heavy coat, stepping off the sidewalk to cross the narrow street. Did the American have any idea the KGB officers were following him?
“There must have been an informant in the restaurant,” Dimitri absently said to himself. “Someone who knew the American wasn’t KGB.”
Dimitri slowed his walk. At that very instant the Volga stopped twenty meters from the CIA agent. The two occupants got out of the car and approached the lone man. The American, if he did notice the car, or agents, didn’t react to the KGB pressure. He continued his normal pace, stepping onto the opposite sidewalk as the two Russian agents confronted him.
The three men then stepped into a concealed space between two rusted, peeling buildings. Dimitri moved forward cautiously, trying to suppress the gnawing fear overcoming him. He looked up and down the street. No trace of anything unordinary.
Dimitri could see the three men clearly now. The American presented his credentials to the KGB officers and stepped back. The Soviet agents looked at the papers, then told Wickham to turn around and place his hands over his head, forehead against the rough wall.
The taller of the two Russians then pulled a snub-nosed gun from his coat as his companion placed the American’s credentials in his vest pocket.
Dimitri reacted without thinking. Running at full speed into the narrow space, Dimitri barreled into the two KGB agents. The impact knocked all four men down in a thundering crash of rubbish containers and egg cartons.
The American leaped to his feet, whirled around and solidly kicked the taller Russian under the chin, breaking his neck and crushing his larynx.
Dimitri, struggling to regain his footing, saw only a blur as Wickham slung a rubbish can lid into the skull of the other supine KGB agent, rendering him unconscious.
The American yanked Dimitri to his feet, grabbed the snubnosed revolver, retrieved his credentials, and ushered the frightened young spy into the street.
“Follow me! We’ve got to leave Moscow immediately.”
Dimitri was amazed at the self-control demonstrated by the CIA operative.
“Yessir,” Dimitri responded automatically, so frightened he was shaking uncontrollably.
POW! The backhand caught Dimitri completely by surprise, the result being instantaneous. He stopped shaking and his mind snapped to reality.
“Sorry, but you’ve got to get it together or we’re both dead,” Wickham said in a menacing tone. “Too many people have seen this. The KGB will have our descriptions in minutes.”
“Yes … I’m okay,” Dimitri replied, rubbing his jaw.
“Follow me,” the agent said, breathing heavily. “Stay twenty meters behind and keep your eyes open.”
“Yessir,” Dimitri paused, looking around for signs of more KGB officers.
The two men walked at a steady pace, slightly separated, as a shocked crowd gathered around the inert Soviet agents. No one attacked KGB officers.
Chapter Eight
General Matuchek watched the continuously changing status graphics at his control module and contemplated the approaching Soviet bomber fleets. He thought about the American concept of layered defenses and fervently wished the Space Defense Initiative system were fully operational.
The NORAD commander knew the SDI system had faults. Scientists and engineers, during the previous three months, had argued various theorems, trying to correct the deficiencies in pointing and tracking.
SDI had been designed to recognize instantly the plume of smoke and fire from a hostile missile launch. The object of the sophisticated deterrent was to destroy the weapons as they rose from their silos or broke the surface of the water.
If the enemy knew, or believed, their missiles would explode over their own territory, they would presumably not risk that option.
The exasperated SDI experts had been working feverishly to eliminate the problems of wavefront control. Atmospheric distortion wreaked havoc with the pointing and tracking ability of the SDI satellites already in orbit. Various experiments had recently improved the system’s capability.
Astronauts and scientists, working in orbit from Starlab, had been achieving great success firing lasers at test missiles launched from ground-based sites.
However, the final solution escaped the scientists as they continued to rework the optics in the equation. Everyone felt a breakthrough was imminent. A 100 percent reliable system of nuclear missile defense was only months, if not weeks, away.
The real concern, in both the scientific and military communities, was the vulnerability of our SDI satellites to Soviet laser attacks. The Soviets had previously damaged the Indigo Lacrosse spy satellite, which used radar to view through clouds or bad weather. The satellite, crucial for guiding the B-2 Stealth bombers over Russia during a nuclear war, would have to be replaced.
“Excuse me, General.” The assistant operations officer handed Matuchek a folder.
“Another Top Secret, huh?” CINCNORAD replied, reaching for the packet.
“Yes, sir. Your eyes only.”
“Appreciate it, Colonel.”
“Yes, sir,” replied the lieutenant colonel.
Matuchek watched the lanky officer as he returned to his central command post, then read the contents of the secret message.
Z010532ZFEB
TOP SECRET
FROM:
AIR FORCE SPACE COMMAND
TO :
CONSOLIDATED SPACE OPERATIONS CENTER
SUBJ :
STRATEGIC DEFENSE INITIATIVE
REF :
CHAIRMAN JCS MSG Z010405ZFEB
INFO :
CINCNORAD
SATELLITE TEST CENTER
1. FINAL SDI DEPLOYMENT RESCHEDULED FOR 010645ZFEB. WINDOW 0645Z THROUGH 0740Z. COORDINATE TRACKING WITH HOUSTON AND NORAD. ESTABLISH ON-LINE TAP AT 010600ZFEB. CALL COLUMBIA FIFTY-SEVEN.
2. RESUME NORMOPS AT COMPLETION OF SEVENTH ORBIT. AWAIT REPLY.
Matuchek looked at the twenty-four-hour clock on the wall and compared the time to his wristwatch. Less than one hour before launch.
“Christ,” he muttered quietly as he punched the code for Lt. Gen. Jonathan R. Honeycutt, his Canadian vice commander.
“General Honeycutt,” replied the three-star officer in his usual crisp manner.
“John, J.B. When you have a minute, I need to speak with you privately.”
“Yes, sir,” Honeycutt replied. “Right away.”
Dimitri and the tall CIA agent rounded the first street corner and ducked into a narrow walkway. The American had not said a word since they had left the chaotic confrontation with the KGB agents.
Dimitri, his pulse racing, broke into a half run as the CIA operative quickened the pace.
“Move it out, Dimitri,” the agent ordered as he placed his hands on a small wooden fence and catapulted himself over the rickety structure.