Looking down at Ellis’s still-scared face, Frank reached over and closed the dead man’s eyelids. “Something, all right. Let’s go.”
Truman threw the report on his desk. “Commander Wallace, you mean to tell me that the deputy prime minister of the Soviet Union — a man I’ve met on several occasions, mind you — is covertly gathering his own band of Variants together? What for?”
Danny cleared his throat. “He is, Mr. President. Yushchenko found out that Beria was starting to gather his own Variants, separate from the MGB or the Army. And he found out why.”
Truman stared hard, so much so that Danny almost lost his train of thought. “Well?” the President demanded.
“He’s planning a coup.”
The words hung in the air for a long while, then inexplicably, Truman barked out a short laugh. “Well, hell, son, everybody in Stalin’s circle wants to be the next guy in charge! Abakumov, Zhdanov, Bulganin — they all want in on it. The MGB and the Army all have their own self-contained Variant programs too, right?”
“Yes, Mr. President.”
“So, why is it such a big deal that Beria has his own little group?”
“According to INSIGHT, Beria believes the Soviet Variants are destined to become the new leaders of the proletariat, the true leaders of the Revolution, the sons of the new age of socialism. INSIGHT saw his job as controlling the Variants for the good of the Party, not the other way around. If we’d known any of that, we might’ve been able to actually turn him. He didn’t like the thought of Variants being in charge.”
Truman leaned back in his chair, thinking, then slowly began to nod. “Been on my mind a bit too, son. We have a Variant of ours start getting ideas like that, it’ll be a tough thing to deal with, you know.”
“We’ve been developing contingency plans, Mr. President.”
Truman smiled. “I know, son. And I know what you are. You, me, and Hilly are the only ones who do. Can you honestly tell me you’re ready to arrest one of your own or, worse, kill one of your own if they start down that road?”
Danny looked the President hard in the eye. “My own, Mr. President… ‘my own’ are Americans. I swore an oath, sir, just like you did.”
Truman fixed Danny with an appraising look, then nodded. “So, you got Beria jump-starting the whole master-race dogma again, just with a coat of Red paint.”
“Seems like it. Just trying to figure out why.”
Truman handed the folder back to Danny; the papers would be burned to ash before he left the room. “Theories?”
Danny shrugged. “Well, nothing official, but… think about it. We’re not telling our Variants that they’re the next level in human evolution or anything like that. Why?”
“Because you’re Americans and you have a duty to the people of the United States to use your abilities for the good of all,” Truman said, looking a little confused. “I wrote that line myself, you know, in their briefing books.”
“Yes, sir. And that’s because the government we serve is headed by an everyday person — you, sir. Nobody at the highest levels of government has turned out to be a Variant. The folks in charge are still normal, if you will.”
“Where are you going with this, Wallace?”
“What if one of the folks in charge of the Soviet Union wasn’t?”
It wasn’t very often that Danny saw the President at a loss, and couldn’t help but take pride in the look on Truman’s face before he finally found a response. “Stalin’s a Variant?”
“No, sir!” Danny quickly said. “No, no, no… latest we have on the power structure in Moscow is that Stalin doesn’t one hundred percent trust Beria. I think it’s Beria or someone close to him.”
Truman considered this. “You know, that Beria’s a real son of a bitch. Brutal fellow. Just brutal.”
“Yes, he is, sir.”
Finally, Truman rose and extended his hand. “Thank you, Commander. You trained a good team there. We got a lot of good information from that mission.”
Danny took the President’s hand and tried not to smile like an idiot. “Thank you, Mr. President.”
“We’ll need a replacement for Longstreet.”
“We have several candidates, sir. The other Variants are starting to be cleared for operations. We’ll be able to make substitutions as needed.”
Truman nodded and let Danny’s hand go. “Very well. Thank you. You’re dismissed, son.”
Danny saluted smartly and left the Oval Office, where Hillenkoetter was chatting amiably with the President’s secretary. He looked up and smiled at the junior man. “Well?”
“I’m alive, sir,” Danny said. “Went well, I think.”
Hillenkoetter gave the secretary a friendly nod, then stood and walked outside onto the colonnade in front of the Rose Garden, his outstretched hand shepherding Danny with him. The door closed, and the two began a slow walk. “What’s your take on him, Commander?”
“Sir?”
“The President. What’s he thinking about Variants?”
Danny looked down at his shoes a moment as he walked. “He’s worried. I think me being there helps, because I put a face to the idea. I look normal. My abilities aren’t scary. But yes, I think there’s some concern. Why?”
Hillenkoetter sighed and turned toward the younger man, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I admit, I’m worried. You got folks like Forrestal scared shitless of people like you, and now it’s possible that Beria’s building his own army of supermen. Men like Forrestal get too antsy about that and, well, you and yours are gonna find themselves in hot water.”
“But the President, sir?”
Hillenkoetter resumed his stroll into the garden. “I think he’s a good guy, Commander, but you’ve seen the polls. Dewey’s gonna clean up in November, and honestly, I don’t know where that fella’s gonna come down on all this. We need to keep our record as pearly white as we can so that MAJESTIC can keep operating as it has been.”
The two walked on in silence for a few moments until Danny piped up. “Sir, I gotta ask. Why are you standing up for us? Maybe Forrestal’s right — just look at what Beria’s commissars are telling the Variants over there. If some of our men start feeling that way, well…”
Hillenkoetter smiled. “I remember when I was the new XO on West Virginia, before Pearl Harbor, I chewed out a Marine lieutenant something fierce one day because of some slapdash something-or-other. And I saw such a look in that man’s eyes — he really wanted nothing more than to kill me. And he could’ve, too — just drawn and fired and ended me right there. And he didn’t. Instead, he went and drilled his men to the point where they were not only good — they were the best in the damn Pacific Fleet. I personally pinned a medal on that man’s chest after Okinawa. He trusted me that I was doing right by him, and I trusted him that he’d do his job and not let his anger get the better of him.”
“So… you’re going to trust the Variants.”
“No, Commander. I’m gonna trust you. I’m gonna do right by you, and you’re gonna be like that Marine lieutenant and make sure that these folks are on board with the program.” Hillenkoetter suddenly picked up his pace, prompting Danny to scramble to keep up. “Let’s get to work. We’re gonna need to find more of ’em.”
27
Maggie looked around at her new place with an actual stirring of pride. It was a nice little apartment about three blocks from the “office” — CIA headquarters in Foggy Bottom — a second-floor flat with a separate bedroom and its own bathroom. A real nice one, as far as places went. Far better than the room she had rented with a family in Mill Valley. Nicer than the place she grew up, in fact. Heck, it even came with furniture and a brand-new radio.