“There’s another reason for our involvement,” Hollingshead said. He reached out and tapped the one-time pad where it sat on the table. “When Ms. Asimova first came to me, she said this was what she was after. She knew where it was and how to use it. We had the ability to retrieve it.”
“Russia does not possess the resources it once did, not in the Western theater,” Nadia explained. “Getting a Russian frogman into Cuban waters would have proved difficult. We knew you had the capacity.”
“But what do you even want that thing for? The codes in it are twenty years out of date,” Chapel said.
“So are the codes Perimeter uses,” Nadia told him. “Perimeter was given daily ciphers by the KGB. When they were driven from power, they stopped updating its clearances.”
“You mean it’s still running off that pad,” Chapel said.
“As far as Perimeter is concerned, it is still 25 December 1991, because no one told it otherwise.”
Chapel couldn’t help but grin. He nodded at this pad. “You needed this thing pretty badly, I guess.”
“Simply to enter the Perimeter bunker, one needs a code sequence. If it is entered incorrectly, the system automatically arms itself and cannot be reset locally.”
“We’d better make sure we enter the right code, then,” Chapel said.
Nadia’s eyes flashed as if she’d just caught Chapel in something. “So you agree to come with me? To do this together?”
Chapel grinned. “Wouldn’t miss it. Though I’m still not clear on why this is a joint operation. You have the one-time pad — we would give it to you even if you said you wanted to run the rest of this mission yourself. So I’ll ask again. Why do you need us? Why me?”
“As a svidetel. A… witness, if nothing else,” Nadia told him.
“A witness?”
“If I am successful, if I deactivate Perimeter, there will be no visible sign. Nothing overt will happen. I could turn it off tomorrow, but if I then came back here and told you it was done—”
“We wouldn’t believe you,” Hollingshead said. “Exactly right. The president would have to assume you were lying. Attempting to deceive us so that we would relax our guard.”
“Indeed. Trust, but verify, yes? That is the policy. Once Perimeter is defeated, Agent Chapel can vouch that it was done, and our two countries can start talking about disarmament again. We are going to make the world a safer place,” Nadia said. “Even if only the three of us in this room ever know about it.”
“When do we leave?” Chapel asked.
Nadia was escorted out of the Pentagon by a pair of marine sergeants who weren’t told who she was. On her way out, she turned and glanced back at Chapel. She gave him a hopeful smile that he tried to return. Once she’d turned a corner, he closed the door again and turned to look at Hollingshead.
“You trust her?” he asked.
“I wasn’t without my doubts when she first came to me,” the director said. He laid a hand on Chapel’s artificial shoulder. “I vetted her personally. She’s definitely an agent of FSTEK, though like you she doesn’t show up on their official payroll. Her direct superior, Marshal Bulgachenko, gave a message to our ambassador in Moscow vouching for her. Beyond that she’s a mystery.”
“Is that good enough?”
“In this business if she wasn’t mysterious, I would worry. It’s the best we’re going to get, son.”
Chapel nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“Of course, I don’t want you to think I’m selling her the shop, either. Just because the Russians are our allies now doesn’t mean we don’t spy on each other. Even if, as I suspect, she’s completely on the level, she’s got perfectly functional ears. She’ll take any chance she can get to learn things she isn’t supposed to know. It’s vital you don’t give anything away — for instance, she can’t learn about Angel. I know you’re used to relying on our friend while you’re in the field. That won’t fly this time. If she sees you talking to an invisible helper, she’s going to get curious.”
“So I’m going in blind?” Chapel asked. He relied on Angel for everything during a field operation — for intelligence, for insights, just for someone watching his back. Working without her would be a severe handicap.
“No. You’ll be able to contact her. You’ll just have to be discreet about it. As in all things.”
“I am a silent warrior,” Chapel said, quoting the motto of the intelligence service.
“I know you are, son. Fair enough. Are you all right with taking Asimova’s lead? This is going to be her operation. You’ll be playing second fiddle, I’m afraid.”
“Understood.”
Hollingshead nodded and turned to go. But then he stopped. He looked back at Chapel with a questioning eye. “There’s just one more thing. It’s, ah. I suppose this isn’t my place. But if it affects your operational efficiency—”
“Sir?”
Hollingshead frowned. “Back there, in the briefing. You seemed… angry. That’s not like you. A couple of times there, you got downright confrontational.”
“You have my apologies, sir.”
Hollingshead nodded. “Chapel. Son. I said I wasn’t going to talk about your personal life, and I’ll stick to that. But I need to know you’re truly ready for this. That if I send you into the field right now, your head will be squarely in the game. I expected to find you distracted and a little dazed, given the circumstances.”
“May I ask how I seem right now, sir?”
“Focused. Maybe a little too focused. You’re blocking out everything else but your work. If that becomes a problem—”
“It won’t,” Chapel said. He sounded curt even to his own ears. He hadn’t intended that.
Hollingshead flinched a little. He blinked. Straightened his cuffs. “It’s not too late,” he said. “I can still send someone else on this.”
It wasn’t a threat. Hollingshead was asking a question, Chapel knew. He was offering a lifeline.
Maybe he wasn’t in the perfect head space for a mission like this. But he thought he could get there. And the alternative — going back to an empty apartment in New York, checking his phone every thirty seconds for a call that wasn’t going to come — was unacceptable.
“I can do the job, sir,” he said, forcing a measure of calm into his voice. “I can do it right.”
“Hmm.” Hollingshead looked him right in the eye for an uncomfortably long time. Chapel made sure not to look away. Then the director shook his head as if clearing it of unpleasant thoughts and said, “Very well. Let’s talk about how we get you to Kazakhstan.”
Chapel would have left for the mission then and there, if he could. Unfortunately, the doctors had grounded him for a month after his bout with decompression sickness, and Hollingshead wouldn’t let him fly until it was safe. The intervening time wouldn’t be wasted. Papers had to be readied, cover stories established, travel arrangements made. The hardest part was that Chapel could do so little of it himself. Most of the preparations were made by low-level functionaries in the State Department who had no idea what they were working on, only that credentials for certain people had to be readied at the shortest possible notice. Chapel would never even meet the people working on his behalf.
Chapel’s official orders were to get some sleep. The best therapy for the bends was sleep and fluids. Chapel tried to maximize the latter, keeping a water bottle with him at all times, but he knew he couldn’t just sleep away the remaining time. He checked into a hotel in Washington — it was far too tempting to go back to New York, to try to find Julia and talk to her — and spent his days haunting various military archives.