“Around the clock” Trotter said. “What about Lev Potok, and the Israelis” A fleeting look of relief crossed Troner’s features. “That’s up to Murphy. He’s taken it to the president. They’re going to have to decide what they’re going to tell the Mossad”
“If it’s Kurshin aboard that sub, and we both know it is, he won’t be making for the Black Sea. His target has always been En Gedi. The Israelis have to be warned”
“It’s out of my hands, Kirk. Murphy knows the situation and so does the president. It’s up to them, not us”
“What about you in the meantime” McGarvey asked. “You’re going to have to get out of Italy, immediately. I’ll be working out something”
“Where do we meet when it’s over”
“Here. If the light is on in the window, it’s safe. Otherwise we’ll meet in the Piazza San Pietro”
“In front of the Vatican”
“Right” Trotter said. “Watch yourself”
The odor that had begun to permeate the Indianapolis had gotten to all of them. No one had eaten very much, nor had they slept. Makayev had Ordered the boat’s heating systerm turned low, but it hadn’t helped. At sunset their sonarman, Lieutenant Rama, reported that activity on the surface had dropped off sharply An hour later nothing moved above. Everyone else had gravitated forward to the control center.
The orders Kurshin had given them had only taken them this far. They all wanted off the submarine now. Kurshin hit the comms button. “Lieutenant Rama”
“Sonar, aye”
“Still quiet above”
“Yes, Comrade Colonel”
Kurshin checked his watch. It was coming up on 11:00 Pm. local. “Keep your ears open. A twin screw vessel will be approaching our position within the next few minutes”
“From what direction”
“Landward”
“What is her size”
“Two hundred eighty feet” Kurshin said. The others were looking at him.
“Our rescue ship” Makayev asked. Kurshin nodded. “The Stephos out of Athens”
“Her crew”
“Our people” Kurshin said. “They’ll send divers over to put a collar around the missile and bring her aboard. Once that’s done we’ll go topside”
“That’s a lot of water” Makayev said. “Yes it is” The captain looked around the control room. “What about this boat? Do you mean to leave her here? Sooner or later she will be discovered” Kurshin stepped across the control room to the navigator’s table. The others crowded around him. He stabbed a blunt finger at a spot about thirty miles to their south. “The bottom drops rapidly here” he said. “More than three thousand meters.
Well below what this boat’s pressure hull can stand.
Before we get off, you will set the boat to head to sea at a slow speed, diving at a shallow angle. This can be done” Makayev nodded. “Within a couple of hours there will be very little left of her”
“They will find her hull, nevertheless” Makayev said “They have the equipment and the technology. And now they certainly have the will”
“That will take time” Kurshin said. “By then we will be long gone”
“What about us” the captain asked. “I don’t think we’re returning to Moscow just yet”
“No” Kurshin said. “Not just yet”
the conns speaker squawked. “Captain, I’m picking up that twin screw vessel.
McGarvey was dressed in black. Outside of the city, he had pulled off the secondary highway where he had blackened his face and pulled on a black watchcap. The clothing and equipment Trotter had supplied were first-class. Strapped to his left forearm beneath his shirtsleeve was a nine-inch, razorsharp stiletto, and strapped to his chest was a suppressed .22 Magnum automatic-the same weapon the Army’s Delta Force used It was a very good weapon for head shots, reliable and almost completely noiseless. The gun could be fired inside a house, and people in the next room would not hear it. He had spent the afternoon memorizing the maps, layouts, and photographs Trotter had supplied him with, and in the early evening he had managed to get a couple more hours rest. He circled the town to the south, the Tiber River on his left, keeping off the main highways. It was nearly midnight and there was no other traffic. There was no moon, and a light cloud cover made the night very dark. Nikandrov’s place was situated at the edge of a good-sized public park just outside the city limits. McGarvey drove Slowly past the gated driveway, catching a brief glimpse of the house through the trees.
A few lights illuminated the front of the two-story building, but no lights had shone from the windows. The KGB Officer and his bodyguard had apparently settled down for the night. Or had they? McGarvey wondered, turning back toward the park. If Nikandrov had had a hand in Baranov’s plan to take the Indianapolis he would have to be getting very nervous about now. He had sent his wife and children away. Was that merely coincidence? Or had it been the move of a man who expected trouble would be coming his way? McGarvey thought the latter was likely.
He left the car a half block from the park entrance and hurried back on foot, plunging into the dark woods that were crisscrossed with footpaths. During the day this would be a pleasant place to spend an afternoon. Peaceful, so different from the bustle of Rome just a few miles to the north. It was probably why the Nikandrovs had picked the place. An ancient stuccoed stone wall, at least eight feet tall, topped with broken glass, separated the Russian’s property from the park. where the hedges had grown close to the wall, their branches had been trimmed back. Foreign agents, esespecially men as important as Nikandrov, always tried to maintain a low-key lifestyle. They wanted no attention brought to themselves, they were always torn between security niea sures that would be obvious, and openness that could be dangerous. Nikandrov had his bodyguard, but was the perimeter of his property adequate? McGarvey decided he would have to find out before going Over-Keeping well within the relative darkness of the woods, McGarvey followed the wall for nearly a hundred yards before it turned west. From his vantage point he had been unable to detect any wires, or any sign that the wall was being monitored by closed-circuit television cameras-Just here it was very dark. The glow of the lights at the front of the house was only faintly visible This was the back of the property. The most vulnerable. He followed the wall for another twenty yards, finally finding what he had been looking for: a second gate. A narrow dirt road ran through the woods up to the gate. It was mostly overgrown with weeds and looked as if it hadn’t been used in a long time. Keeping low, he emerged from the woods and studied the hinges and locking mechanism On the old iron gate for a couple of minutes. Again he found no evidence that any alarm system had been installed. Nikandrov was relying on the wall, and on his bodyguard, Andrei Zalenin. Pulling on a pair of leather gloves, McGarvey quickly climbed up the gate, and at the top angled over to the wall, stepping carefully across the jagged broken glass and jumping lightly into the deep grass on the inside, rolling once and then quickly scrambling into the bushes. He waited a full five minutes for any sign that his entry had been detected. Somewhere in the distance to the south he thought he heard the whistle of a riverboat, but it wasn’t repeated, and except for the insect noises the night was quiet. The rear of the property had been badly neglected and was heavily overgrown with weeds and brush. McGarvey reached the house in under two minutes, stopping at the edge of the driveway where Nikandrov’s big Mercedes sedan was parked. Taking off his gloves and stuffing them in his pocket, he studied the back of the house. No lights shone in any of the windows. It was believed that Nikandrov’s bedroom was on the second floor. His bodyguard would most likely be very near. Perhaps in an adjoining room.