Fearing the tramp of footsteps, he flushed the toilet, straightened his clothing, and stepped quickly out into the hall. Natalie was speaking with several Russians and they were not pleased to see him return. When she took his arm again, the Soviets grudgingly departed toward the bar.
“Are you all right?”
“No. It’s my stomach,” he lied, again speaking for any unseen listeners. “I think we should leave immediately.”
She blinked and nodded understanding, and they stepped out into the cool of the night. “I’ve got to contact Marshall,” he said, and her eyes widened.
“The chief of staff? Now? My God, Steve, what was in that message?”
They had found his car and he opened the door for her. He deferred answering until they were well under way. “The Reds,” he finally told her, “are mad as hell that we are sending those two divisions toward Berlin and are going to attack them at first contact.”
They drove in silence in the direction of the Potomac River and Arlington. Steve concentrated on his driving while Natalie sat stunned. Finally, after several glances in the rearview of his ’36 Buick, Steve nervously broached a concern.
“Natalie, I think we’re being followed.” It was a line out of a dumb movie and he felt foolish for saying it, but the lights of the same car had been behind him for some time. Natalie turned and looked behind her.
“Turn right on Constitution,” she commanded. It would take them past the White House and toward the river. The Soviet embassy was only a few blocks from the White House. Ironically, they had driven around the White House on their way toward Constitution Avenue. He obeyed and saw the mystery car turn as well.
“Okay,” she said. “Keep going in this direction until you hit the road that leads to the Memorial Bridge and the cemetery.”
Steve did as instructed and watched as the car kept pace with them. “Natalie, could someone have seen Korzov give me the message?” The answer did not have to be spoken. If he was being followed then someone had indeed seen it pass. It also meant they were in danger. Whoever was following them had no real idea where he was headed. However, they would figure it out in a couple of minutes.
They made the bridge and crossed over into Arlington. There the road split. Turn right and they would be in a civilian area. Turn left and they would be headed toward Fort Myer and the newly constructed Pentagon. It would be a clear signal of intent to whoever was following them. He turned left.
The car followed and seemed to speed up. “Hang on,” Steve yelled. Hang on to what? he thought inanely as he jammed the accelerator to the floor and felt the big car’s surge of power.
The other vehicle continued to gain. For what seemed an eternity, the chase went on. Now he could see the lighted gate to Fort Myer and two guards, probably armed. He urged the Buick forward and leaned on the horn. In the mirror he saw a couple of winking lights and realized to his horror that they were being shot at. Something clanged. The car had been hit.
As the car careened wildly toward the gate, Steve saw the first two guards drawing pistols and two more men with rifles appearing from the shadows. He waited until the last second and slammed on the brakes. The mystery car did an abrupt and high-speed U-turn and sped away.
An MP with a. 45 automatic drawn and aimed at them approached cautiously. He lowered the weapon only slightly when he saw Burke’s rank. “Sir, just what is going on?”
“Get the officer of the guard,” Burke ordered.
A second MP took up station on the other side of the car. “He’s on his way, Colonel.”
A few moments later, a very young lieutenant arrived and seemed stunned when Burke told him to contact General Marshall immediately.
Despite the MP lieutenant’s understandable reluctance to call the general at that late hour, they finally did make telephone contact with someone at Marshall’s residence, and Burke insisted that it was extremely important that a lowly lieutenant colonel see the chief of staff immediately.
Marshall received them in his library and in uniform. The short drive from the gate had given the man a chance to dress.
Marshall glanced at Natalie and seemed to glare briefly at the stains on Burke’s uniform. Whatever Burke had, he clearly thought it both too important to wait for morning and to change into a clean uniform.
“All right, Colonel, what do you have for me?”
Burke quickly explained about the party and how Korzov had delivered the message. He handed the folded paper to Marshall, who looked at it briefly while Burke gave a summary translation and then put it aside.
“Burke, you are certain this says what you think it does?”
“I am, but please have the translation confirmed by others.”
Natalie interrupted. “I’ve read it as well and I agree with Steve’s interpretation.”
If Marshall thought it strange that she, a civilian and a female, had been allowed to see such an important document, he didn’t show it. “You have a Russian background?” the general finally asked her.
“I was born there,” she answered. “My parents were minor nobility and what are now referred to as White Russians. Those of us who survived the revolution and the wars left in the 1920s and made it to the United States. My first language was Russian and I am now employed at the State Department.”
Marshall nodded. “What do you think of Stalin?” he asked her.
“He is a thief and a murderer.” She said this with a venom that caused Marshall to blink. “He had several members of my family, including my father and sister, executed for the crime of being born.”
Marshall turned to Burke. “This Korzov, is he reliable?”
“General, I have no idea. I’ve spoken to him a couple of times, but never anything like this. Until tonight, I really wasn’t certain he knew I existed. I have no idea why he chose to give me the message. On the other hand, I know of no reason for him to lie about something like this. What does he have to gain?”
“A bullet to the back of the head,” said Natalie. “If he’s lucky.”
Marshall rose and Burke knew he was being dismissed. “I don’t know why he selected you either, although perhaps out of desperation. Why he did it doesn’t matter if the information is correct. The point is, you were chosen and now I’ve got to do something about it. You did the right thing by coming here right away, even though-” he smiled briefly-“you’d ordinarily fail inspection. Because of the attack on you, you will both stay on the post until we are certain that you are safe.”
Back in the car and heading toward her temporary quarters in Fort Myer, Natalie rested her head on the back of the car seat and turned toward Burke. They both were exhausted by the events of the night.
“Two divisions,” she said. “The papers are full of terms like that and have been since this damn war started. And that’s what you’ve been talking about, but what on earth are two divisions? How many men are we talking about? How many lives are involved in this potential tragedy?”
“Maybe thirty thousand, all told.”
Natalie paled. “So many? If the Reds attack, it will not just be a slap by Stalin, will it? If he does attack them there will be a great many dead and wounded, won’t there?”
He agreed grudgingly. How could he say otherwise?
Natalie persisted. “Then we’ll be at war with Russia, won’t we?”
He saw a tear roll down her cheek. He put his arm around her shoulder, and she rested her head alongside his. “Yes, Natalie, by this time tomorrow we could be at war with the Soviet Union.”