“Jerry Kraus’s people came up with a match.” “But how did you find out, sweetheart?” “I don’t know. I think maybe Todd mentioned it.”
Todd shook his head, and Elizabeth caught it. “Maybe Otto told me, then.” “When did you talk to him? Was it yesterday?” “It must have been,” she said, her anger rising. She hated to be put on the spot.
“We left early this morning, so it was probably yesterday afternoon. I don’t remember.” “I shouldn’t think so,” McGarvey said, sympathetically. “Not with all you’ve been through. But I’ll talk to Otto when we get to the office and clear it up.” “Clear up what?” Liz demanded. “Where’s the mystery?” “It’s a Russian thing. Something out of my past that we’re trying to get a handle on,” McGarvey told her with a measured nonchalance. “Could be that it’s them gunning for me.
Otto has probably come up with something, too, but you know how he is.
Unless he’s got it nailed down cold, he keeps whatever he’s working on to himself.” McGarvey shrugged. “I thought that if you had talked to him, he might have said something.” “Oh, that,” she said. “It has something to do with General Baranov, you’re right. And with a Department Viktor shrink who’s supposed to be on the run from the SVR.
But I don’t know a lot more than that.” “Is that what you two have been working on so mysteriously?” “I’ve been working on your bio,”
Elizabeth responded too quickly. “I would never have guessed one-tenth of what you did.” “Does Otto think that Nikolayev is gunning for me?”
“He’s too old. But it might have something to do with whatever he took out of Moscow with him.” She shook her head. “I just don’t know, Daddy. Honestly. I wish “
“You wish what, sweetheart?”
She looked a little embarrassed. “I wish sometimes that we could just all go away someplace and just be together.”
“Maybe in a time machine?” McGarvey suggested.
She smiled and reached for her husband’s hand. “Only if I could take Todd with me.”
Peggy Vaccaro was sitting across from a sleeping Kathleen in the darkened hospital room when McGarvey and Elizabeth showed up. Otto and Yemm went to the waiting room. Todd went downstairs to speak with Dr.
Mattice, who was on his way over on McGarvey’s call to see about admitting Elizabeth at least overnight. “Good heavens, Liz, we were all so worried about you,” Peggy Vaccaro said in a soft voice, getting up. They hugged lightly. “How are you?” “I’ve been better,” Elizabeth said. “How’s my mother?” “A lot better.” Vaccaro looked over at McGarvey. “Dr. Love was in again this morning, and they did another test downstairs. An EKG, I think, and something else. We didn’t know exactly what time Liz was coming in, and the doctor wanted Mrs. M. to get some rest, so he gave her a light sedative.” “Did he say anything about her condition?” Elizabeth asked. Peggy Vaccaro smiled. “That’s the good news. She’s going to be okay.” Again she looked at McGarvey.
“She can go home tomorrow morning at the latest, Mr. Director. That’s really good news.” “Yes, it is,” McGarvey agreed. He watched the play of emotions across his daughter’s face. When he and Katy separated, Elizabeth had blamed herself for the divorce. She felt as if she hadn’t been a good enough daughter to keep them together. It was because of her that her parents no longer wanted to live together. The same expression of guilt creased her face now with lines of worry and doubt. It was because of her that her mother was here like this.
Elizabeth brushed a wisp of her mother’s hair off her forehead, then bent down and kissed her cheek. “She’s going to be really happy to see you,” Peggy Vaccaro said. “I’m not going anywhere, Peg,” Elizabeth said. She turned to her father. “I’ll stay here with Mom until she wakes up. Take Otto back to work.” “I’ll leave Todd here,” McGarvey said. “Yeah,” Elizabeth replied absently. She looked at her mother.
“He and I have some things to work out.”
McGarvey’s heart went out to his daughter. He wanted to cradle her in his arms for the rest of her life, to protect her from the demons and gremlins. But he couldn’t do it. Leastways not like that. “It’ll be okay, baby.” “I know it will, Daddy, because we’ll make it so.” She looked at him. She was crying again. “You’ll make it so.”
TWENTY-NINE
IT WAS AS IF HE WERE BEING TEASED BY SOME TRUTH, SOME SUDDEN INSIGHT THAT WOULD MAKE EVERYTHING CLEAR TO HIM.
McGarvey rode alone in the backseat out to Langley, Otto once again up front with Yemm, content to be alone for a little while with his thoughts. Idly he watched the traffic. In a way Washington was like Los Angeles. People were on the go, moving, always in a hurry. Nothing stayed the same. Everything was in a constant state of change.
Focusing on any one thing or person for very long was more difficult than ever. Cell phones and the Internet had not isolated people as many critics had predicted. The new technologies brought people together. But only superficially. These days you were far less likely to talk to a neighbor three houses away than you were to an anonymous chat room personality halfway around the world. And now there was terrorism. It was an issue of trust. McGarvey understood the concept at the gut level. But it was a forgotten muscle in his body, a gene that somehow had not been switched on at birth. And the harder he tried to trust people, the more he wanted it, the more he wanted to rely on someone, to go back-to-back with them for protection against the world, the more difficult it became. After Santiago he had run to Switzerland to lick his wounds. It was the most neutral place on earth that he could think of. The CIA had abandoned him, the Senate over site committee, one of whose key members was Darby Yarnell, had thrown him to the wolves, and even Katy had given him an ultimatum: “Me or the CIA.” So he had bailed out. The Swiss Federal Police knew who he was, of course, and his presence in Lausanne made them nervous. Not enough to kick him out of the country, but enough to send three cops to watch over him. One was Dortmund Fiielm, who became his partner in a bookstore. The second was a young woman who passed herself off as Fiielm’s daughter. She kept trying to get McGarvey to sleep with her.
And the third was Marta Fredricks, who shared his apartment, his bed and his life until the end, when he was recalled to Washington. She had fallen in love with him, and their parting had been difficult for both of them. “But I love you, Kirk. Doesn’t that mean something to you?” McGarvey lowered his head. Marta said that to him the day he walked out on her in Lausanne. And she said it to him again in Paris, where she had come looking for him. He rejected her both times because he was not able to trust her, not even a little. The first time her heart had been broken, and the second time in Paris, when he had sent her away, she was killed in the crash of a Swissair flight. He could never forget her last words, or the look on her face. They crossed the river and went down the Parkway to the CIA. The afternoon was clouding over. It looked like snow again. They were passed through the gate, and Yemm pulled up at the executive entrance. McGarvey let himself out and went inside. Otto and Yemm came right behind him. “I’ve got work to do,” Otto mumbled, and, head down, he hurried off to the computer center. “Are you going to need me, boss?” Yemm asked. “No.” Yemm hesitated just a moment. “Liz is going to be okay, and so is Mrs. M.
now that we know what’s going on.” McGarvey looked at his bodyguard curiously. “What’s going on?” “Somebody’s after you, and they’re not above going after your family to get to you.” Yemm shrugged pragmatically. “Except for the chopper pilot on Hans Lollick, nobody’s been killed.”