But everything is going to be discreet. Nothing will appear to be out of the ordinary.” “What if there’s trouble?” “We call for backup and head to whichever is closer at that moment, Langley or Cropley.” “How about Todd and Elizabeth?”
“Nearly the same drill, Mr. Director, except that Van Buren will drive his own SUV out to Cropley, using a number of switchbacks. There won’t be any security in the car with him and your daughter, but there will be chase cars and a helicopter aloft to make sure they run into no trouble. They’ll arrive at Cropley thirty minutes ahead of us.” “Any reason for that?” “Sir, Todd wants to make a quick sweep of the property himself before you and Mrs. McGarvey get out there.” “That’s fine,” McGarvey said. “I want your people to remain out of sight. This is going to be as low-key a move as we can make it.” “Yes, sir, that’s what we figured. There’s no use advertising what we’re doing.”
McGarvey had always taken a hand in his own safety. But now in his position he had to rely on others to make sure the job got done right.
He didn’t like it. One of the security officers was on the phone. He touched the mute button. “Mr. Director, the President would like to speak to you.” “Do you want us to get out of here?” Grassinger asked.
“No,” McGarvey said. He took the phone and touched the MUTE button.
“This is McGarvey.” “Please hold for the President, sir,” Haynes’s secretary said. The President came on. “Good morning, Kirk. How are you doing?” “Good morning, Mr. President. We’re hanging on. But I’m going to be gone from Washington for a few days. I’m taking my family to a safe house.” “After last night, that’s a good idea,” the President said. “I want you to consider something while you’re gone.
I want you to think about withdrawing your nomination. Linda and I know what you and Kathleen are going through, and we would not blame you if you stepped away. Hell, having Hammond and Madden on the warpath is bad enough, but this now, attacks not only on you but on your family, is beyond the bounds.” “Thanks for the offer, Mr.
President. But when I quit it won’t be like this.” “I understand.
What can I do to help?” “Keep Senator Hammond off my back until we get this settled,” McGarvey said. He’d given the problem some thought.
“He’s still got a pipeline into the CIA. He’s coming up with information that’s only discussed between me and my directorate chiefs and their immediate staff. We’re trying to plug the leak now. But if you could invite him over to the Oval Office and have a chat with him about the facts of life, it might help. I don’t want him to know where I’ve taken my family. If he inadvertently lets something slip, it could get to the wrong people.” “Consider it done, Kirk,” the President said. “How long do you think that you’ll be out of action?” “Not long.” The President was silent for a moment. “I’m not going to ask how you know that. So I’m just going to wish you good luck. If there’s anything else, anything at all, that I can do for you, let me know. It’ll be done.” “Thank you, Mr. President. I appreciate that.”
This was one president who was as good as his word, McGarvey thought.
David Whittaker was in his limo on the way to CIA headquarters when the locator caught up with him. When he answered the car phone he sounded cranky. Like the rest of them he had been up all night dealing with the aftermath of the latest attack. “How’s traffic on the Parkway this morning?” McGarvey asked. “Shitty as usual,” the acting DDCI replied.
“How’s it going out there?” “We’re getting set to head out to Cropley,” McGarvey said. The green light was on, indicating their call was encrypted. “Have you heard from Adkins?” “He’s back home with the girls,” Whittaker said wearily. “Ruth passed away last night.”
McGarvey lowered his head and closed his eyes. “I’m sorry, David. I didn’t know that she was that bad. How’s he holding up?” “He’s taking it hard, Mac. And he’s going to want to come back fairly soon. Work’s the best antidote for some people.” Life was sometimes not very fair.
And just now there were a lot of problems piling up all around them.
“One thing at a time,” McGarvey said. What he did not need was a grieving Deputy DCI on the seventh floor. Especially not one who might be a suspect himself. “What do I tell him?” “I’ll take care of it,”
McGarvey said. “He’s a friend-” “He’s my friend, too,” McGarvey flared. “But we have a job to do. All of us, especially you. The world hasn’t been put on hold just because somebody is gunning for me.
And neither is the Agency going to be put on hold.” McGarvey glanced at Grassinger and the others, who were studiously poring over the maps.
“Have I made myself clear?” “Perfectly, Mr. Director,” Whittaker replied. His tone was frosty.
“Good,” McGarvey said. “I want you to talk to Otto this morning. He was shook up, but he said that he had an idea for a trap.”
“He took the Gulfstream back to France last night. Lynch said he’s already in-country.”
McGarvey wasn’t surprised. “I think that he’s trying to make contact with Nikolayev. Have Paris station keep an eye on him, but tell Lynch not to interfere.”
“All right.”
“Let me know as soon as he gets back to Washington. And in the meantime I’ll want regular staff reports. We can teleconference over the secure TV link. I’ll let you set up the times. Anything above the line occurs, I want to hear about it immediately. I’m going to Cropley, not Mars.”
“Yes, sir,” Whittaker said. He hesitated. “Mac, I understand about Dick. It’s a tough call, but you’re the one in the hot seat. We’re all with you. One hundred percent. And not just until this situation is resolved. I mean for the long haul.”
“Thanks, David. It’s good to hear that.”
Kathleen refused to be bundled up in a blanket, or in any other way pampered. “I’m worn-out, I’m not a cripple,” she said crossly. She and McGarvey sat in the backseat of the limo. Stenzel and Gloria Sanchez sat in the facing seats, and Grassinger drove with Chris Bartholomew riding shotgun. Media trucks and vans were parked along the side of the street almost all the way back to Connecticut Avenue.
Chevy Chase police and Montgomery County sheriffs units held the reporters at bay and kept them from taking up the chase. The limo’s windows were tinted so that no one could see inside, anyway. And fifteen minutes earlier, one of Grassinger’s people had delivered a one-page news release promising that the DCI would hold a news conference at Langley sometime later today. “It’s a feeding frenzy,”
Stenzel observed, as they were passed through the checkpoint. They headed north on Connecticut Avenue toward the Beltway and sped up. The news media had finally gotten onto the story that at least two attempts had been made on the life of the director of the CIA, the latest attack in front of his house.
“It’s been a slow season,” Gloria said. “One good thing with all this attention, no one in their right mind would try to do anything,”
Stenzel said. Gloria shook her head. “I hate to disagree, Doc, but this sort of confusion can work as a very good cover.” It had begun to snow again. When they reached the Capital Beltway and turned west, Kathleen turned and watched out the window. The trees and the hills were being covered with a fresh blanket of snow that made the world look clean and pretty, like a Currier and Ives Christmas lithograph.
She was smiling, but she said nothing, and McGarvey was content just to look at her. One other time in their marriage he had been as frightened of her fragility as he was now. It was a couple of days after Elizabeth was born, when they brought her home to their small apartment in the city. Kathleen’s pregnancy had been a normal one, no emergencies, no terrible cravings or debilitating morning sickness. But it had been long, and they were both glad the night her labor pains began and her water broke. McGarvey had done her breathing exercises with her so earnestly that night, that he had hyperventilated and almost passed out waiting for her to get ready to go to the hospital.