NOW THAT SHE was with at least one familiar, friendly face, Lorraine Abbott had regained some of the confidence she had lost when she'd been arrested in Tel Aviv. “What's going on here, Mark?” she asked her boss. “Have they told you yet?”
“If you'll just have a seat, Dr. Abbott, we can get started,” Trotter said. “We have a lot of ground to cover.”
“I will not,” Lorraine snapped at him. “Mark, can we get the hell out of here? Now?”
O'Sheay shook his ponderous head. “Not just yet,” he said. “Listen to the man.”
McGarvey had remained standing by the door. She shot him an angry look. “I've listened to about as much as I want to listen to. My lab will be expecting me.”
“We have taken the liberty of informing them that you are on an extended assignment with the NPT,” Trotter said.
“You what?”
“Please, Dr. Abbott, if you will just have a seat, I'll explain everything to you.”
“Goddamnit ⦔
“Sit down,” McGarvey said. “The man is trying to save your life.”
“I don't ⦔ she started again, but then she nodded and sat down, O'Sheay next to her, and Trotter and Ryan across the table. McGarvey remained standing.
“Before we begin, it is my duty to inform you, Dr. Abbott, that these proceedings are being videotaped, and that the subjects that will come under discussion are classified top secret. You may not divulge what has happened here with anyone outside of this room unless you are instructed to do so by proper authority.”
Ryan passed a single-page document and a pen across to her. “If you have understood what Mr. Trotter has just told you, please sign this; it outlines the penalties for noncompliance under the National Secrets Act.”
The color left her face.
“I've already signed it,” O'Sheay said.
“But the NPT ⦔
“Has been cut out for the moment. Just sign it, Lorraine.”
She did it, and pushed the paper back to Ryan, who put it in a file folder. She was subdued. McGarvey felt a little sorry for her. She was a smart, beautiful woman, but she had been playing an amateur's game until now. Her education wasn't going to be pleasant to watch.
“On June ninth of this year you were dispatched by the Non-Proliferation Treaty Inspection Service to investigate an incident at the En Gedi Nuclear Research Station,” Trotter began.
Lorraine nodded.
“Along with a British scientist, Scott Hayes, you did so. Mr. Hayes was apparently satisfied with what he was shown. We have seen his report. But you were not. Can you tell us why?”
Again Lorraine appealed to O'Sheay for help, but he nodded for her to answer the question.
“I felt they were hiding something,” she said. Her voice had lost its harsh edge.
“Hiding what?”
“Mr. McGarvey has already briefed me.”
“We'll get to that, Doctor. What did you think the Israelis were hiding?”
“I didn't know at the time, but the man who met us at the gate was Lev Potok. I happen to know that he is a major in the Mossad.”
“After your inspection tour was completed, why didn't you return home and make your report?”
“I talked to Mark and told him that something funny was happening, and asked him to send out whatever material he could on the research facility. Construction and start-up information, that is.”
“You were looking for something specific?”
“Yes.”
“Could you explain that to us,” Trotter gently prompted.
“I thought there was a possibility that the Israelis were hiding fissionable material somewhere within or beneath the facility. Specifically weapons-grade material. There is certain equipment ⦠certain things they would have to have done in order to maintain such a depot.”
“Did you find anything in your document search?”
“I wasn't sure at the time. There were certain airflow installations that supposedly were to be used in a reactor room emergency. I thought it was possible they could be used for something else.”
“The equipment is there,” McGarvey said.
Lorraine looked up at him. “You saw it? You were actually inside?”
“Not in the weapons vault itself. But the laminar airflow equipment
was there, laid out about the way you said it might be. And the air shafts are deep. Perhaps three hundred feet.”
She nodded thoughtfully. “Judging from their reaction, you must have struck a nerve.”
Trotter hadn't turned to look at McGarvey, he'd kept his eyes on Lorraine. “Your conclusion then, Doctor, from everything you've seen and heard concerning En Gedi?”
She glanced at Mark. “If you mean to ask, do I believe the Israelis are storing nuclear weapons at En Gedi, I can't answer you. If you want to know do I think it's possible, I do. Very likely, in fact.”
Now Trotter turned around to face McGarvey. “The good doctor says you briefed her, Kirk.”
“I told her everything,” McGarvey said.
“Everything?” Ryan snapped.
“Yes.”
“Well, that tears it,” Ryan said in disgust. “You had no goddamned brief ⦔
McGarvey overrode him. “Her ass was hanging out on the line. I was either going to tell her nothing, or I was going to tell her everything. And that, Counselor, was my studied decision as a field officer whose own ass was on the line.”
“Under the circumstances I have to agree with Kirk,” Trotter said.
Lorraine's eyes were bright. “Why am I getting the feeling that I'm not going to like what's coming next?”
“It's for your own protection, Doctor,” Trotter said. “Believe me, if there was any way, any way at all of doing this any differently we would.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You are going to have to stay here, for ⦠a few days, perhaps a little longer.”
“Bullshit,” she snapped, jumping up. “I'm not going to be kept a prisoner in my own country. In the first place I've done nothing wrong, and in the second place I have two research grants and two teams I'm currently supervising.”
“I'm sorry.”
“Mark, for God's sake,” she cried.
But O'Sheay was again shaking his head. “There's not a thing
I can do about it, Lorraine, I'm sorry. I'd rather do without your company for a few days or even a month than forever.”
“And they will kill you if they find you, Dr. Abbott,” Trotter said.
“Who is they?”
“That isn't necessary to know at this moment,” Ryan said.
“The Russians,” McGarvey interjected.
Ryan thumped his fist on the table. “Listen here, mister, I've had enough of your prima donna crap.”
McGarvey ignored him. “It will be the same people who reprogrammed the Pershing to strike En Gedi. They know what's there, and they won't stop.”
“Trotter!” Ryan hissed.
“Let's step outside for a moment, Kirk,” Trotter said. “Please.”
“I'll talk them into getting you a computer, maybe flying some of your programs out here, if that'll help. But no matter what, you're going to have to remain here out of sight for as long as it takes.”
She was shaking her head in amazement. “I don't believe this.”
“Believe it,” McGarvey said. He turned, opened the door, and went out into the stairhall where he lit a cigarette.
Trotter and Ryan were right behind him, and Ryan was fuming.
“That was quite a performance in there!”
“Counselor, why don't you stick to counseling and let me stick to spying,” McGarvey told him. He turned back to Trotter. “They're there, John. I'm as convinced as I can be without having actually seen the weapons themselves.”
“Are you all right?” Trotter asked.
“Just fine. She saved my ass by getting to the general before they picked her up. She's got fine instincts.”
“She'll be okay here, Kirk. You're coming back to Washington with me this afternoon.”
McGarvey shook his head. “Leave me a car, and I'll drive in tomorrow morning. It's been a long forty-eight hours. I can use a few hours' sleep.”
“Everything is all right here,” Trotter said.
“I'm sure it is. I'll be even more sure in the morning. What are we going to do now? Baranov won't back off, and Kurshin is still floating around out there somewhere.”
“You're going after FELIKS,” Trotter said. “We'll brief you in the morning.”
“Have your people developed a short list?”
“Not as short as we'd like, but you'll have a decent head start.”
“I'll see you in the morning.”
“Sure,” Trotter said. “We'll leave you the Taurus.”
Ryan had held his silence, listening to the exchange. “I think it would be better if you came back with us now, McGarvey.”
“I don't,” McGarvey said, starting to turn away.
“What, are you fucking her already?”
McGarvey swiveled smoothly on his heel, grabbed a handful of Ryan's shirt front, and half lifted him off his feet. “That's the second time I've been asked that question, and frankly I'm getting tired of it. Have you seen my dossier, Counselor?”
Ryan was able to do little more than squeak an affirmative.
“Then you know what I am,” McGarvey growled. “And didn't your mama ever tell you not to piss off a killer?”
Â
It was nearly midnight. The light wind had died and the evening had become warm and humid. McGarvey stood on the side porch in the shadows watching the gravel road as it disappeared down into the woods toward the highway.
Trotter had left four FBI officers here to watch after Lorraine Abbott's safety. So far he had picked out three of them. One in an old pickup truck just down from the barn, another just off the road, a flash of his white face briefly visible in the starlight, and the third had actually lit a cigarette farther down in the woods.
“I want to thank you,” Lorraine Abbott's voice came from the open window just behind him and to the left.
“Go to bed, Doctor,” McGarvey said.
“The name is Lorraine.”
McGarvey smiled to himself. “I thought your friends called you Dr. Abbott.”
“None of them have any balls.”
He had to laugh. “Now you sound like one of the boys.”
“Did you ever know a physicist who wasn't?”
“Not one who looks like you.”