The morning was very bright, heat shimmering up from the tarmac as McGarvey and Potok hobbled down the Sea Dragon’s aft loading ramp.
They had not said much to each other on the three-hundred mile flight from the Worden. Potok had laid his head back and had closed his eyes.
He was on the verge of collapse. “Just one more thing to do” he’d said.
McGarvey let his thoughts drift back and forth between Lorraine Abbott and John Trotter. It wasn’t finished, of course, and would not be until Baranov was destroyed. He’d known that all along. He’d known it most acutely the moment he had seen the look of triumph in Kurshin’s eyes.
He’d thought he had won. There would be others like him, other handmaidens to Baranov. Sooner or later they would succeed.
He was filled with fear now; Baranov had become his worst nightmare, and Lorraine Abbott his greatest challenge. He had thought of both of them as Kurshin died. But he was an assassin. He would give Baranov death, or die trying. What could he give to Lorraine? He had nothing. Men such as he never did. They had landed on the military side of Lod Airport. A fuel truck lumbered across the taxiway, toward the helicopter, at the same moment an army jeep raced over from the AMAN Headquarters building a half-mile away. Potok’s number two, Abraham Liebowitz, was driving. He pulled up at the base of the ramp, jumped out, and hurried around to them. He said something in Hebrew. “In English” Potok said, straightening up. Liebowitz glanced at McGarvey. “He’s waiting for us.
If you want, I can take care of everything. You should be in the hospital” Potok shook his head. “No” he said. “We owe this man, Abraham.
I’ll see it through” He helped Potok into the front seat, and McGarvey climbed in the back as Liebowitz got behind the wheel. He turned around.
“We have a plane standing by for you, Mr. McGarvey. As soon as we’re finished here you’ll be flown directly to Athens. In the meantime, is there anything I can get for you, or arrange”
” No” McGarvey said. He was very tired, and it was difficult at this moment to keep his thoughts straight. But as they drove back across the field toward the collection of low cement-block buildings, he knew that what he had done hadn’t been for Israel. It had been for himself. In fact, he thought, turning that notion over in his mind, everything he had ever done had been for himself. Some inner need to prove himself, over and over again. To prove his strength, his virility, his loyalty, his honor. And again he was struck with the idea that there wasn’t very much difference between himself and men such as Kurshin, other than their place of birth.
Someone had asked him once if he was proud of what he had done for his country. He had wanted to immediately say Yes, of course I’m proud. But something had stayed him. He hadn’t known the answer to that question then, and he didn’t know it now.
They pulled up at the rear of one of the three-story buildings and inside took the elevator up to the top floor, where Liebowitz ushered them into a small conference room. A very short man, with longish white hair and hunched shoulders, stood looking out the window toward the U.S. Navy helicopter that had brought them in. He wore a shapeless dark suit, the collar of his white shirt on the outside of his jacket. When he turned around McGarvey was struck by the knowledge, understanding, and sympathy in the man’s eyes. If there were an opposite of Baranov, this man was he. “Are you up to this, Lev” he asked. “I want to see it through, sir” Potok said. “Then sit down, please. Everyone” They sat down across the bare table from him. A pair of fighter-interceptors roared across the field, and when the sound faded McGarvey thought he could hear his own heart. “Do you know who I am, Mr. McGarvey”
“Isser Shamir. Director of the Mossad” McGarvey replied. It was highly classified information in Israel. Shamir inclined his head. “Just so. It would seem that the range of your knowledge is quite good. Good enough, I believe, for you to understand that I’m not given to idle boasting, false accusations, or rumors”
“I’ve heard that, sir” McGarvey said. He was beginning to get an uncomfortable feeling that he had not been brought here merely to be thanked. There was something else going on.
“Israel would like to offer you her gratitude. Twice now you have saved my country from something very terrible, each time at the extreme risk of your own life”
“There is no debt of gratitude, Mr. Shamir”
“Oh, but there is, Mr. McGarvey. And Israel pays her debts. Always “
Shamir glanced over at Potok, and then back again … He seemed to be debating with himself, as if he were carrying an impossibly heavy burden that made any kind of a decision nearly out of the question. “My government knows what is stored at En Gedi, Mr. Director. And so do the Russians”
“Yes. it will forever change the politics of this region. The age of our innocence-as bloody as it has been-is gone. That cannot be altered”
“That’s a matter for the politicians, not for me”
“But you are not finished, I believe” Shamir said, watching him carefully. “Am I correct in assuming that you will make an attempt in the very near future on the life of Valentin Baranov” McGarvey held his surprise in check. “I can’t say”
“This operation has the backing of your Agency and, I would suspect, even your president” McGarvey said nothing. “Such an operation would take planning. The need-to-know list will be quite small, nevertheless there are others who know what your orders are. The specifics of your orders. “Even if that were the case, you know that I could not discuss it with you”
“There will have been some agonizing over this decision, I think — “
McGarvey got to his feet. “I’m sorry, Sir, but I would like to leave now”
“As I said, Mr. McGarvey, Israel owes you a debt of gratitude. I would like to repay it now by saving your life “
“Please, Kirk” Potok said. “Sit down and merely listen to what we have to tell you. I promise you will not be asked to reveal anything sensitive to your government.
You have my word “
“And mine” Shamir said.
“What do you want with me” McGarvey asked, his voic(tight in his throat. “What more do you want”
“En Gedi was penetrated, Kirk” Potok said. McGarvey turned to him. “By the Russians, yes we knoa this. They needed the proof and they got it”
“We thought he was one of us. He went by the name oi Benjamin Rothstein.
His real name was Vladimir lvanovict Tsarev. KGB. He worked directly for Baranov. “How did you find this out”
“It’s not important. Listen to me, Kirk. En Gedi was penetrated twice.
Once by a man named Simon Asher. He died in the … vault, trying to sabotage one of the Potok cut it off, and he glanced at Shamir. “Go on”
the old man said softly. “Asher was trying to sabotage one of our nuclear weapons. We think he may have been trying to set it off. We’re not sure about that part”
“He worked for the Russians too” McGarvey asked. It was typical of a Baranov operation. The man covered all of his bases. He never relied on a single line of action. Always there were many paths down which his people were directed. “He had one connection with the Russians. With the same man who was Tsarev’s control officer here in Israel. We didn’t find that out until later. By then we had found out something else … something even more disturbing”
“Go on” McGarvey prompted. “Kirk, we are very sure of our facts. I can’t tell you how we came to know what we do, but it has to do with thousands of telephone intercepts, a records search that has taken Us Six weeks, and a complete search of … your own background. We checked your record, all the way from the day you joined the Agency until you were asked to resign after the incident in Santiago” McGarvey’s chest was suddenly tight. It felt as if all the air were being squeezed out of his lungs, “Is this how you repay your debts” he asked sharply. “By spying on your friends”