“No thanks to you” she’d snapped, her eyes straying to the thick bandage on his head. “What did you tell them”
“Nothing” she said. “Because that’s exactly what I know” She turned away. It was just two in the afternoon when they touched down at Dulles Airport, and McGarvey went with Lorraine down the jetway into customs. A young man in a three-piece suit directed them away from the counters, and through a door that led directly out into the terminal. “We have a car waiting for you” he said. “Will either of you be needing medical assistance”
“Who are you” McGarvey asked pointedly, before Lorraine could say anything.
“Oh, sorry, sir” the young man said. He dug out his Agency identification. His name was Stanley Barker. “Mr. Trotter sent me out to pick you up”
“That’s just fine” Lorraine said. “Now if you will just excuse me, I’ve got to see about a flight to New York”
“I’m sorry, ma’am” Barker said, a little embarrassed. “But my instructions were to pick up both of you”
“I demand.
“Ma’am, Mr. O’Sheay is waiting for you. He asked me to assure you that all of your questions will be answered”
“Mark is here, in Washington”
“Yes, ma’am. In the area. I have a car just outside” She looked at McGarvey, a smug little grin of satisfaction on her lips. McGarvey figured she was going to get her answers, but they probably would not be ones she would care to hear. Crossing the terminal McGarvey spotted at least three men who were probably FBI surveillance people, and he allowed himself to relax for the first time since they’d left Israel.
All the way across he’d gotten the uncomfortable feeling that the operation had been too loose. They had simply been kicked out of the country and left to fend for themselves. Considering the nature of his assignment, and the fact that they were carrying around in their heads the literal future of Israel, he had expected to be shadowed. But until now he had picked out no one. Outside, a dark gray Taurus pulled up.
Barker got in the front, and they got in the backseat. McGarvey spotted at least two surveillance cars, one in the rear and one in the lead.
Barker turned in his seat as they pulled away from the curb. “Your bags will be brought along shortly, not to worry” he said. “Where are we going” McGarvey asked. “Falmouth”
“What” Lorraine asked, sitting forward. “That’s in Virginia”
“Yes, ma’am, about fifty miles south of here”
“Goddamnit, you said that Mark O’Sheay would be meeting us”
“He’s down there waiting for you,’” Barker said. “Believe me, Dr.
Abbott, this is for the best. You’ll understand once it’s explained to you”
“Has anyone been spotted coming in” McGarvey asked. Barker looked at him through lidded eyes. He finally shook his head. “We don’t think so.
Leastways, we haven’t spotted any unusual activity. If they’re there, they are good”
“You can count on it” McGarvey said, relaxing back in his seat and lighting a cigarette. Lorraine had followed the exchange. “What’s going on” she cried. “You bastards, someone tell me what’s going on”
“Yes, ma’am, as soon as we get there”
“And stop calling me ma’am” she screeched.
The safehouse was on a ninety-acre farm a few miles outside the small town, the Rappahannock River bordering the property to the south.
The house itself was a two-story colonial built on the crest of a hill with a clear view in three directions. The access road wound up from a secondary highway through a thick stand of trees that at times formed a canopy over the narrow road. General Accounting actually owned the place, but the FBI’s Witness Protection Program had been the most recent users. They parked in front and went up the sloping pathway to the broad porch. Before they went inside McGarvey turned and looked back down the road. The cars that had come from the airport with them had peeled off and were nowhere in sight. The afternoon was warm and lovely. The countryside seemed peaceful. Inside the foyer they were met by a well-dressed man with startlingly blue eyes and a slightly disdainful expression.
McGarvey had never met him, but he pegged the man almost immediately as a lawyer. “Any trouble” he asked Barker. “No, sir. From somewhere McGarvey thought he could hear the murmur of a conversation. A bulky man in a khaki shirt and trousers, hunting boots on his feet, stood at the head of the stairs. When McGarvey looked up at him, he moved off. He was armed with an M16 and he looked serious. Whatever had happened or was about to happen here, they were definitely taking it for real. The blue-eyed man spoke. “I’m Howard Ryan, general counsel for the Central Intelligence Agency, and you must be Dr. Abbott” He stuck out his hand, but Lorraine ignored it, her right eyebrow rising slightly. “Would you mind telling me what is going on here, Mr. Ryan” she demanded. “If it’s no trouble, that is”
“Of course” Ryan said smoothly. “Would you like to freshen up before we get started”
“No. Is Mark O’Sheay here” Ryan nodded. “Yes, he is. If you’d like we can go in now. They are waiting for you”
“It’s been a long trip, don’t screw with me” Lorraine said crudely.
Ryan’s gaze shifted to McGarvey. “You can wait in the living room, we’ll be with you in a half hour”
“I don’t think so” McGarvey said. “That’s an order, Mr. McGarvey..”
Ryan started to say, but Trotter had come to a doorway at the end of the stairhall. “It’s all right, Howard. We’ll see them both” McGarvey and Lorraine went back to the study, where Trotter was waiting. “Hello, Doctor, I’m John Trotter, I’m also with the Agency. We have someone here whom you know” He stepped aside. A fat, academic-looking man with pince-nez was just rising from his seat at a long table.
“Mark” Lorraine gave a little cry and she went in. McGarvey was right behind her. He could see that O’Sheay was angry and disturbed. “Now”
Trotter said, coming in with Howard Ryan, who shut the door and locked it. “We have a lot to talk about, and very little time, I’m afraid, to do it in”
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” Trottei 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”