Now, at last, he was confronted with the consequences of his actions. The bomb, waiting out there on the seabed. forced him to face what was at hand. He was an accomplice in a plan to dominate a small nation; he had let his greed overwhelm his scruples when he saw what Majorov had dangled before him- He had acted willingly, enthusiastically, at every step of the way. But now, he had come as far as he could go. He could not even bring himself to doubt that a bomb lay out there; he could no longer rationalize. Now he was responsible.
“Captain!” the shout came over the squawk box
“Contact!”
Helder got to his feet, more slowly that he should have under the circumstances. He climbed the ladder and stepped into the conning tower. The exec handed him the binoculars.
Up the channel, from the direction of Stockholm, a patrol boat raced. Helder could see the faces of the young men above the windscreen. To his right, coming up another channel, appeared another boat. The two converged and raced toward his position.
They slowed as they came closer, then stopped, perhaps a hundred yards off. A young officer aboard one of them picked up a loud hailer
“Captain of the Soviet submarine, I am an officer of the Royal Swedish Navy. I require you to assemble your crew on deck and prepare to receive boarders for an inspection. Do you understand?”
Helder picked up the microphone of his own loud hailer and said, in Russian.
“I demand to see a representative of the Soviet embassy at once. I will not acknowledge any other communication until I have spoken with this representative.”
He released the transmit button, then leaned close to the squawk box
“Gun crew; stand by to take your positions on deck.”
The Swedish officer consulted a book which someone had handed him. Then, in execrable Russian, he read, “Your ship has invaded Swedish territorial waters. You are under arrest. Prepare to receive boarders and surrender your weapons.”
Helder spoke into the squawk box
“Gun crew on deck.”
The forward hatch flew open and men spilled onto deck.
They unlashed the gun, and shells were handed up. The crew chief came to attention, facing Helder.
Helder nodded.
“Lock and load one round; sight on the vessel to your left.” He watched with admiration as they swiftly carried out their orders. When they were loaded and ready, he spoke into the squawk box
“Sparks?”
“Yes, sir?” the voice came back.
“Send FOX.” RULE sat as quietly as she could and listened | | to Will and Appicella tell their story.
“Emilio and I were equally astonished to learn that we both knew you,” Will said.
“Then, when we got to Ostergam and I called the hotel in Copenhagen to leave a message for you saying that I’d be late, I got your message. We caught a seaplane to Stockholm and checked in here. I got a suite and canceled your room. Emilio is sleeping next door. Would you like some breakfast?”
“Yes, I believe I would,” Rule said.
“In spite of everything.”
Will ordered her breakfast.
“Well, I’m glad we haven’t put you off your food, at least. I thought you’d be glad to see us.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Will, I am most certainly very glad to see you both, but… well, I’d better bring you up to date.”
“Please,” Will said.
“What are you doing in Stockholm?”
“Yesterday, I went to see your boss, told him everything, asked him to go to the president.”
“And?”
“He was impressed, I think, but cautious. He wouldn’t go to the president, but he put me in touch with a man named Sven Carlsson, who’s high up at the ministry of defense here. I’m hoping I can convince him to go to his minister and maybe the prime minister. Bmilio. where is this material you stole from Majorov’s computer?”
“In my pocket.” Appicella replied, “but we’ll have to Find an IBM computer in order to be able to read it. I know a fellow at computer shop in Stockholm where we might be successful.” He looked at his watch.
“He will be open at ten. Have your breakfast, then we’ll go to see him.
I think what I have brought will help to convince this fellow at the ministry. I may be able to get you a great deal more. We’ll see.”
“Fine.” she said.
“Listen. Kate.” Will broke in.
“You’re reacting oddly to all this. I would have thought you’d be extremely happy to get what Emilio has brought you.”
“Oh. Will. I am happy about (hat, but I haven’t told you everything.” She told him what had happened at the airport earlier that morning.
“And you think he was waiting for you?” Will asked.
“I haven’t the slightest doubt he was waiting for me.
No one in Stockholm, except you. knew that anyone named Rule would be here. Don’t you see what that means?”
“It means somebody found out. I guess.”
“Exactly. And they found out from somebody in Washington.”
“Who knew you were coming?”
“I’m not sure. any more; I’ve no way of knowing who’s talking to whom. The point is. somebody wanted very badly for me not to reach Carlsson.”
“You got any idea who?”
Rule explained about Snowflower.
“It was Simon’s operation. He’s terrified that it will come to light. He’s trying to force me out of the Agency “But Jesus. Kate. he wouldn’t resort to killing you to get you out of the agency, would he?”
She shook her head.
“No. at least not for any personal reason.”
“What other reason could he have?”
“Well. there’s Snowflower. He certainly doesn’t want any light thrown on that. But Simon wouldn’t kill me to save his career. Not his career with the Company, anyway.”
Appicella spoke up.
“I think maybe something is rotten in Denmark.”
“I was just thinking back,” Rule said.
“When Simon was head of the Rome station—that’s when we met, you’ll recall—he was friendly with one of the Soviets in their embassy. They did quite a lot of drinking together. It isn’t all that unusual in the field; if one of our people can cultivate one of their people, sometimes we can turn him.”
“Or the other way around,” Will said, slowly.
There was a knock at the door. A waiter wheeled in a tray and bustled about, setting it up. He switched on the television.
“You have not seen the excitement?” he asked.
“Look.”
Rule, Lee, and Appicella stared at the television set.
The shot was from a helicopter. In the upper right-hand corner, a Soviet Whiskey class submarine sat, immobile.
The remainder of the screen was filled with a variety of Swedish naval vessels.
“None of us speaks Swedish,” Rule said to the waiter.
“Where is this happening?”
“It is a little island in the archipelago, called Hoggarn.
Only about seven or eight kilometers from Stockholm.”
He went to the desk and got a tourist’s map of Sweden.
“It is just about here,” he said, pointing.
“The submarine has been there since early this morning.” He left them staring at the map.
“Well,” Rule said, finally, “it’s starting.” Irina Ragulin Rule reported to work for the first time in a week. The bruises on her face had faded to the point where a little makeup would cover them, and the bruises on other parts of her body were better, too. She could walk without pain.
She was sent to a building in the headquarters complex that she had never before visited. When she entered the building, she found it was one large room, a sort of theater, with wide tiers holding desks with telephones and computer terminals, and they all faced a wall filled with three large screens. The center screen contained a huge map of the entire Baltic area, and there were dozens of markings scattered over it, in Sweden and in Poland, Lithuania, Latvia, and Estonia, apparently designating different sorts of military units—air, armor, ships, submarines, and troops. She was surprised to see that one of the symbols for a Soviet submarine was placed in the Stockholm Archipelago, only a few kilometers from the city itself. In the center of the room. at a desk which was clean except for a black telephone console with many buttons and a single, white instrument, sat Majorov.
“We have the Swedish television transmission,” someone called to Majorov.
“Put it on screen three,” Majorov replied.
An image appeared on the right-hand screen, and to Ragulin’s astonishment, it was of Jan Helder. He was being photographed from a distance, standing in the conning tower of a submarine. There were other men with him, but she did not recognize them. Then the screen changed, and she was watching an aerial view of a large area. The submarine was prominent, and it was surrounded by a number of other vessels.
“Trina!” Majorov’s secretary called to her.
“Man the galley, there, in the center. Keep coffee and food coming to whoever wants it.”
She went to a free-standing galley area placed in the center of the theater, toward the rear, and made herself busy. She had known about plans for the invasion, since she had been working at headquarters for more than a year. and even though she had not worked for a week, she had known from Helder that it was about to go. Still, she was rattled by the idea that it was really happening, and stunned to find Helder at the center of it. She took a tray to Majorov’s desk.
“Thank you. Ragulin,” he said. smoothly, smiling at her.
“Glad to see you back. I hope you had a nice rest.”
“Yes, thank you,” she managed to say through her anger. The bastard. He had nearly put her into the hospital.
Jones was at a desk next to Majorov’s.
“Colonel.” he called, “we have a report from Stockholm. The woman.
Kirkland, was intercepted at the airport and liquidated.”
“Excellent,” Majorov said, smiling broadly.
“My compliments to Ferret in the next transmission to him.” He laughed.
“Well. no, perhaps not. They were once rather close; we don’t want to upset him, do we?” The white phone on his desk rang; its tone was distinctive, and instantly, the room became hushed. Majorov picked up the phone.
“This is Majorov,” he said.
There was a pause while he listened.
“Yes, Comrade Chairman,” he replied.
“We are at FOX. now. Helder is refusing all cooperation; he is speaking to them only in Russian. We are holding at the moment, waiting for WIG units in Estonia and Poland to report back, and for confirmations from SPETSNAZ units in Sweden to signal that they are in position. I estimate conditions will be ideal to go very soon.” He smiled.
“Yes. indeed. Comrade, thank you.” He hung up and said to the room at large, “The First Secretary of the Party sends his regards to you-all.”
There was an excited murmur in the theater. Ragulin continued on her rounds with food and coffee. Suddenly, there was a chorus of shouts. She looked up at the screen receiving Swedish television. A larger ship, a destroyer, was steaming into the fleet surrounding the submarine.
There was scattered applause in the room.
“Well, well,” Majorov called out.
“They’re getting serious. Let’s see how long it will be, now, before somebody fires a round, eh?”
Ragulin stared at the colonel. So that was why Jan’s submarine was where it was; Majorov was using him to provoke the Swedes. She stared at the image on the screen.
What would become of her if Jan were killed? Without his protection, she would be back in Majorov’s stable, an animal to be regularly used and abused. And sooner or later, she knew, Majorov would kill her. And he would enjoy doing it. She finished her rounds and stationed herself at the galley, from which she had an excellent view of everything and could easily overhear Majorov’s conversation.
“Has there been any sighting of Appicella or Lee?”
Majorov asked Jones.
“No, sir,” Jones replied.
“Perhaps they have not gone to Stockholm at all.”
“Perhaps not,” Majorov replied, “but we will take no chances. I want a watch kept on the American embassy and the Ministry of Defense until we jump off.”
“Group One still has watchers at both places, sir. I have not recalled them.”
“I want them killed on sight,” Majorov said.
“We are at too late a stage to worry about manners on the streets of RULE waited impatiently. She, Appicella, and Will were in the cramped service department of a computer shop near the center of Stockholm. Appicella and the shop owner, a man named Rolf. were lifting a new computer from a box and setting it on the workbench.
“I knew.” Appicella was saying, “that if anyone in Scandinavia had an IBM PC AT. it would be you. Rolf.”
He turned to Rule.
“Rolf has always run the hottest shop in Europe,” he said.
“That is so much bullshit, if you will forgive me,” Rolf said jovially to Rule.
“Every time Emilio is in Stockholm. he wanders in here wanting to use my equipment to make money for himself. All I ever get for my trouble is flattery.”