West mumbled something and Thorpe drew closer. “What?”
West spit in Thorpe’s face.
Thorpe drew back and said, “You son of a bitch!” He wiped his face with a handkerchief.
West said, “Lies equal pain, truth equals pleasure.”
Thorpe’s face reddened, then he broke into a smile. “All right, you little nerd. The worm turns. Is that it, Nick?”
West replied, “Your technique is bad. I hate you, I resent you, and I will resist you.”
Thorpe looked at the analyzers. “True statement. But these are early innings. Your heroics won’t last very long. Now, tell me about Ann.”
West hesitated, then said, “She’s involved with breaking codes.”
Thorpe nodded. “Russian codes. Specifically, she listens to traffic between Moscow and the Soviet diplomatic missions in New York, Washington, and Glen Cove. True?”
“True.”
“About six weeks ago, Ann Kimberly’s section notified the CIA and other intelligence agencies in Washington of an interesting occurrence. To wit: On the evening of April twelfth of this year, all radio traffic between Moscow and Glen Cove ceased for about six seconds, then resumed.”
Thorpe studied West’s face, then added, “As you probably know, radio codes between sensitive locations are continuous, even if nothing is actually being said. This is a security procedure so that people listening in will not draw any inferences from an increase or decrease in radio traffic. So, this six-second break was noteworthy, though not earthshaking. After the NSA’s routine report, the FBI reported back that there was a severe electrical storm on Long Island that evening, and that the Russian house, on the highest point in the area, was struck by lightning. End of mystery.”
West licked his lips, but said nothing.
Thorpe went on. “But wait. According to the NSA and others familiar with advanced electronics, something was not kosher. So, further inquiries were made. And lo and behold, a man out on his sloop, racing for the harbor during the storm, actually saw the lightning that struck the Russian house.”
Thorpe leaned over and put his elbows casually on the edge of the gurney. “Only it didn’t strike the house, Nick. It struck an antenna that was planted in the ground some distance from the house. The man saw this as the lightning struck and flashed. Furthermore, being familiar with that antenna as a landmark, he swears that it had a very tall extension atop it that he never saw before or since. What do you conclude, Nick?”
West said, “Lightning rod.”
“Correct. They were trying to attract lightning to that rod. True?”
“True.”
“Then why the hell did the power go out, Nick? The rod should have been grounded, not connected in some way to the house power. Even the stupid Russkies know how a lightning rod works.”
West said nothing.
Thorpe continued, “Well, I told my Russian friends that this occurrence had not gone undetected, and they got pretty upset. They asked me to pursue this further. Highest priority.”
West remained silent.
Thorpe flipped his cigarette on the floor, then said, “Of course, the remarkable thing was that after they attracted that huge power surge on purpose, their lights, radios, and apparently everything else were not damaged. And, in fact, everything was functioning again within six seconds. Conclusion: They were playing Ben Franklin, experimenting with electricity. But for what purpose? Nick?”
West said hesitantly, “The NSA… came to a private conclusion… They told all other agencies involved to forget it… Their conclusion was classified State Secret—”
“I know that, damn you. I never saw that conclusion. But perhaps you did. Perhaps Ann was privy to that conclusion. You had one quick meeting with her in Washington April twenty-ninth. Sometime between your passionate embraces, she told you the conclusion. What was it?”
West said nothing.
Thorpe reached for the transformer dial. “A stall equals a lie. Three seconds, two, one—”
“Wait! Wait! She said… They were testing… surge arrestors… like circuit breakers… they wanted to… to make their electrical and electronic systems invulnerable to electrical storms… So there would be no lengthy interruption of radio communication.”
Thorpe was studying the analyzers. He finally spoke. “True, as far as it goes. But there’s more to it, isn’t there? Otherwise my friends in Glen Cove wouldn’t be so nervous about it. What else did Ann say?”
“Nothing.”
Thorpe twisted the dial and held it.
West’s body arched off the table. His mouth opened, but no sound came out. His bladder released into the tube, and his heart rate dropped dangerously.
Thorpe shut off the current. “Well, I’ve been itching to give you a big blast. But now you’re useless for a few minutes.”
West’s body settled onto the table, twitching, his muscles in spasm. His skin was pale and dry and his eyes were rolled back so that only the whites showed.
Thorpe said, “I’m fairly certain this experiment in Glen Cove had something to do with the Stroke — that’s what the Russians call their plan to destroy America, or, as they put it, to bring eternal peace to the world… Nick?”
West’s face had gone ash-gray, and his breathing was irregular.
Thorpe looked at the heart monitor. “Oh, Christ.” He stood quickly and took a hypodermic needle from the instrument table and plunged it into West’s shoulder. “There. That ought to bring you back to the land of the living.”
Thorpe waited anxiously for several minutes, watching the heart monitor. “It would be my luck that your little chicken heart would stop… and don’t go into convulsions on me, you wimp… ” Thorpe waited, then said, “West! Can you hear me?”
West nodded slowly.
“Good. Ready for more conversation?”
West shook his head. “You… almost… killed me… ”
“Almost doesn’t count. Actually, it’s difficult to kill someone with the amount of volts this puts out. I tried it once. You’ll get your bullet when the time comes. I promise you that.”
“Now… I want… it now.”
“Oh, no. You are a coward.” Thorpe sat on the stool again. “Okay, I’ll speak awhile, and you listen.” Thorpe made an adjustment in the polygraph. “Think about what I’m saying. First, Moscow is concerned that parts of their plan may have been exposed. One way that could have happened is through NSA electronic snooping. So you’re going to tell me what Ann has told you.”
“Ann… is not… dead… you would have… kidnapped… ”
“We tried. But she died. Suicide, actually. Very badly bungled. Two more for Siberia.” He laughed.
“You… for Siberia…”
“Shut up. Anyway, another way this plan could be compromised is through the CIA in pursuit of its mission to uncover such nasty schemes. With the help of your high authorization code, my computer is right now scanning Langley’s computer for key words and names that will let me know if there is any suspicion of Moscow’s Operation Stroke.” Thorpe stared at the polygraph paper and saw that West was very agitated. He said, “Will anything show up?”
West’s tongue lolled in his mouth, then he said, “There’s. plenty in there… about you… ”
Thorpe nodded. “Rest assured, I’m scanning for that also, my friend. In fact, I may just have to go on an extended sabbatical very soon.”
“You… are like me… you know too much. You have no friends… no place to hide.”
“There’s always China.” He laughed. “But to continue — another source of trouble is O’Brien’s old-boys network. They are on to something. But they’re being led to believe that some Arab terrorist group is going to obliterate Wall Street with a small nuclear weapon. Not a bad idea, but no cigar.”