Emerging from the brush he raced across the driveway, held up for a couple of seconds, and then went silently up on the low veranda, flattening himself against the wall beside the back door. Still there were no signs that his presence was known. There were two locks on the door. Using a slender casehardened steel pick, he had the first open in ten seconds. The second lock took a little longer, but at length he felt the bolt slip free. Pulling the gun from its holster, he cycled a round into the firing chamber, switched the safety to the off position, and tried the door. It opened inward, silently on well-oiled hinges. The darkened house smelled of cigarette smoke. McGarvey remained outside for several long beats. Someone had been just inside smoking a cigarette.
Within the last minute or so. Had they seen him coming up from the back?
Had they heard him picking the lock? Suddenly everything seemed wrong.
His internal warning system was in high gear. A trap? He had started to turn away from the door when a large caliber silenced shot was fired from behind him, the bullet just missing his head, knocking a big chunk off the masonry. Instantly he swiveled back on his left foot, diving inside the house just as a second shot was fired, this one ricocheting off the door frame an inch behind him. They had obviously seen him coming.
Zalenin must have circled around from the front of the house once he realized that McGarvey would be coming through the back door, hoping to catch him from the rear, as he had very nearly done. By now they would have called for help. Time was running out. But they had to have been expecting him. How? Zalenin’s bulky form appeared for an instant in the doorway, and disappeared. McGarvey, standing in the shadows across the room, held his fire. The Russian was a professional. He had provided a brief target, and when there had been no shot he would have to believe that McGarvey was either down, or was elsewhere in the house. It was a mistake. Zalenin appeared again at the doorway, hesitated for just a moment, then came in McGarvey fired two shots, the first catching the Russian in the face just below his left eye, the second hitting him in the throat, destroying his windpipe. Still, the Russian managed to get off a shot as he fell backward, but it went wide, and he crashed back against the open door with a tremendous racket. Any reason for stealth now gone, McGarvey turned and raced up the dark corridor to the foot of the stairs Something crashed above as he took the stairs two at a time.
At the top he paused for just a second. Nikandrov would probably be armed. He would know by now that something had gone wrong and would be Panicking. There were four doors at the far end of the corridor. One of them was open. From an adjacent door McGarvey could hear the soft but urgent tones of someone talking. Nikandrov was on the telephone calling for help. His eyes would be on the corridor door. Turning, McGarvey stepped silently through the open door way into what he suspected was Zalenin’s room. The door into Nikandrov’s suite was ajar. In the very dim light filtering in from outside, McGarvey could see Nikandrov’s bulky form, his back hunched, the telephone in his left hand, a big pistol in his right trained on the corridor door. Moving silently on the balls of his feet, McGarvey made it across the room in three steps, pressing the barrel of his weapon against the base of Nikandrov’s skull.
The Russian’s words stopped, and he stiffened. “Put the telephone down” McGarvey said softly. Someone shouted something in the phone, but Nikandrov carefully replaced the handset on its cradle. McGarvey reached around and took the Russian’s gun, and tossed it onto the bed. “Zalenin is dead, and we do not have much time, Comrade Nikandrov”
“The police are on their way” Nikandrov said, his voice steady. “So you will give me the answers I need very quickly or I will kill you”
“You are here to kill me anyway”
“That’s possible” McGarvey said. “You rented the cruiser Zenzero from a leasing firm in Naples. Who was the boat for, besides Arkady Kurshin” Nikandrov said nothing. McGarvey jammed the gun hard against the man’s neck. “Valentin Baranov will not mourn at your funeral”
“Nor yours”
“Yours will come first, I can guarantee it. We have the boat, and we have two of the nerve gas canisters. We know that one of our nuclear submarines is missing. I’m telling you this because I want you to know how important this business is to us”
“I don’t know anything”
“How many men besides Kurshin” McGarvey said.
“Five seconds. Four … three … two He began to squeeze the trigger.
“Six” Nikandrov suddenly blurted. “Who were they”
“I don’t know their names. They came into Rome on Monday night. I put them up at a small hotel
“Navy”
“Yes. But one of them was a doctor, I think. An alcoholic. “Where are they headed”
“I don’t know. In this you must believe me. There is nothing else. I was told nothing else”
“But you knew about the nerve gas and about the submarine”
“The gas, yes. One of our people brought it over nearly a year ago. But I swear to you I know nothing about any submarines”
“What else was put aboard the Zenzero, besides the gas and the Morse code transmitter”
“Food” Nikandrov said. “Weapons”
“Nautical charts”
“Yes, for the coast off Naples. No others” In the distance they could hear sirens. It was time to get out. McGarvey stepped back away from the Russian. “When you talk to Baranov tonight, give him greetings from McGarvey. He’ll know who I am”
“Fuck you” Nikandrov swore. McGarvey stepped back into Zalenin’s room, then turned and rushed out into the corridor and down the stairs. He should have killed Nikandrov. But the man had cooperated, and he wanted the message to get back to Baranov. The KGB chairman would understand exactly what he meant. Besides, he had never killed a man in cold blood.
Nor would he ever do so … except for Baranov. With that one, there were no rules. None whatsoever.
The Indianapolis hovered twenty meters above the bottom, her helm and diving planes locked on a course nearly due south with a down angle of a few degrees. The bottom sloped at a slightly sharper angle here to well over three thousand meters so that there was no chance the boat would ground herself before her hull imploded from the water pressure. It had taken the KGB crew of the MV Stephos nearly two hours to find the two-ton missile and send divers down to it. They had lifted it carefully up to the surface where under the cover of darkness they had loaded it aboard the ship. It was well after two in the morning. The others had already locked out and had swum to the surface using the British designed emersion suits which were good to around six hundred feet. Only Kurshin and Captain Makayev were left aboard. They faced each other across the control room. “All the internal compartments are open” Kurshin asked. Makayev nodded. “Except for the reactor spaces.
I don’t want to risk a leak from the core, no matter what the prize we’re seeking, Comrade Colonel” II It would have made it impossible for their rescue vehicles to approach the hull for a lot of years to come”
“Insanity” Makayev said sharply. “This is war.” the’yes, this is war.
But not against the sea, Comrade Colo’even a man such as yourself must understand common decency” The captain looked away through the open hatches down the length of the boat, gloomy in the red light, the odor of death much stronger now that all the hatches were open. “Every man who wears a uniform understands contingencies such as these. And so do the families of these boys” He turned back and looked Kurshin in the eye. “We will sink this boat to hide the evidence of what we have done, Comrade Colonel. But I will not contaminate the sea with radiation poisoning, nor will I make it impossible for the Americans to discover the final resting place of this crew” Makayev was weak like the others.