“The President handed me everything this morning. There will be no secrets among us in this room. I can’t stress the importance of this business too strongly.”
“None of us expected the O’Haires to last very long in a generalpopulation prison,” Highnote said. “But evidently I’m missing something of significance.”
“Yesterday afternoon a National Security Agency communications intercept unit at Fort Meade recorded a high-speed burst transmission emanating from Moscow and directed to an as yet unknown location here in the Washington area,” Innes said.
“Our guess, of course, would be the Soviet Embassy,” Quarmby added.
“A portion of that message was decoded last night. Unfortunately it came too late to be of any use. Two names showed up in the message: McAllister and O’Haire.”
“McAllister couldn’t have killed them, if that’s what you’re driving at,” Highnote said.
“That’s right,” Innes said. “But the message does prove, or at least strongly suggest, a connection.”
“You’ve no doubt read all my reports. You must know our assessment.”
“You’re talking about his arrest and incarceration at the KGB’s Lubyanka center?”
“They had him for more than a month, Paul. God only knows what they did to him there, how they… altered him.”
Innes nodded thoughtfully. “You’ve spoken with him twice. Face-to-face. You tell me how he appeared to you. Was he deranged?”
“He’s driven, I can tell you that much. And yes, he is changed.
At the very least they gave him massive doses of drugs, and possibly some torture. He admitted just about everything to them. William Lacey, our charge d’affaires in Moscow, was given a copy of his confession. There was a lot of fallout.”
“Fallout?” Innes asked. “What exactly is meant by that?”
“McAllister named a lot of names. Many of them were still active behind the Iron Curtain. There wasn’t much we could do to help them, because of the timing. The Russians had the information, at least some of it, for weeks before we were given a chance to see his confession.”
“There were arrests?”
Highnote nodded. “Arrests, trials, and in some cases executions.
In other instances there were… accidents.” Innes’s eyes narrowed. “Our people were simply assassinated?”
“Yes,” Highnote said.
“And what are we doing about this?”
Highnote sat back in his chair and looked at the others. “There hasn’t been much we could do about it. As I said, by the time we got this information, it was already too late.”
“But surely once McAllister had been arrested by the KGB, you must have suspected that they would get that information from him. Certainly you are aware of their methods, of that technology. You must have known that McAllister could not have held anything back. Why weren’t your networks rescued, or at the very least warned off”
Again Highnote hesitated for a moment, his thoughts ranging far afield. “I think we’re getting into an area here that I don’t have the authorization to speak about. There are certain sensitive ongoing projects.”
“I appreciate that,” Innes said. “But as I’ve told you, I have the President’s complete confidence in this matter. Nothing is to be held back. Nothing.”
“I’m sorry, but some of what you are asking this morning has no bearing on McAllister.”
“The President is waiting for your call,” Innes said without blinking. “Any of you may speak with him before we proceed.”
“I don’t think that’s necessary.”
“I do,” Innes said. “I will not be lied to, nor will I be sidestepped.
If need be you will be subpoenaed to appear in camera before the Senate Intelligence Committee.”
“Perhaps that would be for the best,” Highnote said, starting to rise.
“I think you wouldn’t find it so.”
“What exactly do you mean by that?” Highnote asked coldly. “From what I understand, McAllister is your close personal friend. Has been for some years now. I would hate to think that you would seriously consider obstructing justice here.”
“I won’t stand for this,” Highnote roared. “My service record is there for anyone to see.”
“Then cooperate with this investigation.”
“To what end? This continues to be an internal matter.”
“I can’t agree, and neither does the President,” Innes said. “The President wants to offer McAllister amnesty if he will come in and tell us what happened to him in Moscow, and what has been happening to him since his return.” Highnote was stunned. He sank back in his chair and looked dumbfounded across the table at the Justice Department prosecutor.
“It’s going to be up to us this morning to figure out exactly how to accomplish that.”
“He doesn’t know anything,” Highnote said. “His time at Lubyanka is blank in his memory. He told me that.”
“He knows something,” Innes said. “There are enough inconsistencies here for us to at least consider the possibility. Too many people have already lost their lives-we want to stop it.”
“You’re talking about a trap here,” Highnote said.“No.”
“Yes, he’d be shot to death coming in.”
“You have my word that wouldn’t happen.”
“You’d be out there in the field? You’d lead him in by the hand, is that what you’re telling me?” Highnote looked to the others for support. None was forthcoming. “I’ve spoken with him. I’ve seen him twice. You can’t imagine how desperate he is, how driven. At the least sign of trouble he’ll run and when he does someone is bound to get hurt.”
“We want to avoid that at all costs, Bob. Believe me when I tell you that we want nothing more than to sit down and talk to him.”
“He won’t trust you.”
Innes leaned forward earnestly. “That’s why you’re here. You’re his friend. He trusts you. He’s come to you before, and he’ll come to you again. But we need your cooperation.”
“He knows that I called Security last night. I doubt if he’ll trust me again.”
“He could have shot you, but he didn’t,” Alvan Reisberg said softly. “Another inconsistency.”
Highnote focused on the FBI cop. “What are you talking about?”
“McAllister is, as you say, a driven man,” Innes broke in. “But who is driving him? And why?”
“We know that someone is trying to kill him,” Reisberg said. “How do you know that?” Highnote asked apprehensively. “Because he told us.”
The dark-blue Jeep Wagoneer pulled up and parked at the corner of 31st Street and Avon Lane in Georgetown. A lone, well-dressed, goodlooking man sat behind the wheel, his heart pounding. No time. There was no time left and yet it was up to him to put this ultimate insanity into motion. God in heaven, how could anyone be expected to do such a thing?
Once in you will be along for the duration, he’d been told. Some of it will not be pretty and certainly not pleasant. But all of it will be teriibly necessary. Expediency is the watchword. His orders had been crystal clear. The source, unimpeachable. But Jesus Christ, if something wentwrong; anything, even the slightest hitch, everything would blow up in their faces. He thought about Dallas and Los Angeles and Beirut and a dozen other places around the globe over the past twenty-five years or so. Such a terrible waste. Such risks. Was it worth it? Had it been worth the price paid?
Considering the consequences, he thought, his eye on the brownstone house halfway down the narrow side street, there were no other alternatives. He’d known that too, when he’d signed on.