“Your people know what to do,” McGarvey said as a statement not a question.
“Yes, sir,” Grassinger replied, and McGarvey could hear an edge of impatience in the man’s voice. He’d been insulted. But it couldn’t be helped. McGarvey needed his people to be sharp.
Nikolayev and Grassinger waited in an Agency SUV parked off the highway. The vehicle’s lights were off, and they were well hidden in the trees and brush. From their position they could see a couple of hundred feet of highway and the first fifty feet of the driveway. But sitting in the car was uncomfortable because it rested at an uneven angle to the left. Nikolayev didn’t complain. His life had taught him to endure. “Will it be somebody you know?” Grassinger asked. He was behind the wheel. Nikolayev was in the passenger seat at an angle above him. “Everyone I know is too old for this sort of thing,” the Russian replied mildly. He had night-vision binoculars, which he raised to his eyes. “Rencke gave me a list of names and photographs, but there are blanks, you know.” “What good is waiting out here, then?
What are we supposed to do?” Nikolayev lowered the binoculars and gave Grassinger a hard stare. “You can only hope to protect them in hiding for so long. So we do this tonight to end the waiting.” He glanced toward the highway. “In the first arrivals, anyone who shows up who has not been invited will probably be our man,” he explained. “After that, after everyone is here, we wait. Whoever comes next will be the control officer. We will have to match that person to someone already in the house and warn McGarvey.” “Whoever comes in from the woods behind the house will be our man,” Grassinger suggested. “Let’s not forget that avenue.” “They won’t come that way,” Nikolayev disagreed.
He raised the bin oculars again as headlights flashed on the highway.
Moments later a dark-colored Ford Taurus station wagon slowed and turned onto the driveway. “Adkins,” he said. “Number one.”
Grassinger called McGarvey. “Adkins is coming your way.”
“Right,” McGarvey replied, and broke the connection.
McGarvey met Adkins at the front door as his DDCI came across the broad porch with a look that was a study in contrasts between despair and eagerness. “Thanks for coming out tonight,” McGarvey said. “The timing couldn’t have been worse for you. I’m sorry.” “Duty calls,”
Adkins offered. “I couldn’t stay there. At the house. It’s crazy with all the relatives in from out of town. Not what Ruth would have wanted.” Elizabeth had put a fresh log on the fire in the living room.
As McGarvey helped Adkins off with his coat she came out. “Hello, Dick,” she said. She offered her cheek for a kiss. “You have Todd’s and my condolences for Ruth. It was terrible. I couldn’t believe it when my dad told me.” “Thanks, Elizabeth. I appreciate your concern.
I really do. Especially right now when you’re recovering from your own accident.” Adkins’s lips compressed. “Ruth would have said that better than I did.” She touched his arm. “It doesn’t matter how it’s said.” “Are you armed?” McGarvey asked. Adkins’s mouth opened. He looked from McGarvey to Elizabeth and back. He nodded. “Considering what’s been going on, yes, I’m carrying a weapon.” “You’d better give it to me. I’ll put it in the closet with your coat.” Adkins complied, handing his 9mm Beretta to McGarvey. “I don’t usually carry a gun, you know,” he apologized. McGarvey put it in the closet, and they moved into the living room, where Elizabeth poured Adkins and her father a brandy. She got herself a Perrier with a twist. Adkins stood with his back to the fireplace as if he was trying to get warm. But a thin sheen of perspiration covered his forehead. He wore an old burgundy sweater and jeans. His eyes darted from McGarvey to Elizabeth. He was waiting for something. Expecting to be told something. And he was nervous about it. His attitude and dress made him appear boyish.
“What’s this all about, anyway, Mac?” he asked. He glanced toward the hall. “And where’s Kathleen tonight? She’s okay now, isn’t she?”
“She’s fine, Dick. She’s upstairs. I’ve called a few people to come out tonight because I have something to tell everybody.” “Any hints for your number two? Maybe I could offer a suggestion or two.” “We’ll wait for the others,” McGarvey said. The cell phone rang out on the hall table, where he’d left it. “Excuse me.” “Do you want some ice, Dick?” Elizabeth asked. The call was from Grassinger. “Your son-in-law is on his way.” “Thank you.” “Wait,” Grassinger said.
“Wait a second. Another car is coming.” McGarvey looked out the hall window, but he couldn’t see any headlights in the woods yet. The highway was almost a mile away. “It’s Bob Johnson. He’s on his way to you.” “Okay. The last one should be Otto.” “In this batch,”
Grassinger said. Laying the phone down, McGarvey went back into the living room, where Elizabeth was refreshing Adkins’s drink. “That was Todd. He’s coming down the driveway,” he told them. Elizabeth smiled with pleasure. “Oh good.” Headlights flashed in the living room windows and moved out to the stair hall McGarvey went to get the door at the same time a second pair of headlights appeared up on the driveway in the woods. Todd got out of his car and looked back.
“Someone is right behind me,” he said. “Did you get a look at who it was?” McGarvey asked from the doorway. He wanted to maintain as much of the fiction for as long as he could. At least until they were all in place. But he hated it; the lying. His stomach was sour. “No,” Todd said. His right hand was in his jacket pocket. Presumably he had his gun there. It was one of the things McGarvey needed to know. A light-colored car came down the long, circular driveway, past the frozen fountain and horse paddock, its headlights illuminating the front of the house. “It’s Bob Johnson,” McGarvey said. Todd had no reaction. Johnson parked his car behind Todd’s and Adkins’s cars and got out. He hesitated for just a moment, then came around to where Todd waited. He carried a small leather case. They shook hands.
“Hello, Todd. How’re you doing tonight?”
“I’ve been better. You?” Johnson shrugged. He looked at McGarvey in the doorway. “Good evening, Mr. Director. I brought my tool kit.”
“That won’t be necessary,” McGarvey told him. “There’s nothing wrong with the alarm system.” “Sir?” “Come on in, and I’ll explain everything,” McGarvey told him. “Leave your tool kit in the car.” The Technical Services deputy did as he was told, and he followed Todd onto the porch and into the house. “Is Dick here?” Todd asked. “He’s in the living room. Otto should be showing up at any minute.” McGarvey had them hang their coats in the hall closet. “Are you carrying a weapon?” he asked Johnson. Johnson shook his head. He was a few years older than Todd, but his hair was cut short in a butch and his narrow face, with its freckled red cast, made him look like a kid. He was startled by the question. “We carry multi-testers in my shop. Not guns.” “Would you mind?” McGarvey asked. He made an even more startled Johnson spread his legs and stick out his arms. McGarvey quickly frisked him. “Can you tell me what’s going on, sir?” “Aside from the fact that you’ve been pumping classified information to someone on Senator Hammond’s staff, I don’t know,” McGarvey said coolly. “But that’s what we’ll find out tonight.” Johnson was taken aback, but he didn’t protest; nor did he seem defiant. He was a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Leave your gun in the closet, would you, Todd?” McGarvey asked his son-in-law. Todd’s left eyebrow rose, but he did as he was asked without a word, and they all went into the living room. He gave his wife a kiss. “Hi, sweetheart, how’re you doing?” “Just peachy,” she said. She gave Johnson, who wasn’t sure what to do, a nod. “Why don’t we all just have a seat,” McGarvey told them. “Otto is on his way out. He said that he would give me a call from the highway so we can shut down the security system for him.”