Couture released Bonfils’s arm and let it drop, kneeling down beside him. “Okay. Here’s how this is going to go, you Frog traitor. You’re going to tell the Secret Service everything you know. Otherwise I’m personally going to have you rubbed out! Got it?”
Bonfils retched, still holding his belly in pain. “Oui, mon général.” Tears rolled from his eyes.
Couture stood up and jerked Bonfils to his feet, shoving him toward the door.
Bonfils opened the door and was immediately taken into custody by four Secret Service agents.
“He slipped on some caviar.” Couture then made eye contact with the assistant chef standing across the kitchen, saying, “Better get somebody in there with a mop. There’s caviar and puke on the floor. Though how anybody can tell the damn difference…”
Couture stood before the president’s desk a short time later. “It’s my fault, Mr. President. I mentioned Operation Falcon in front of Bonfils. Glen is a witness. I’m prepared to offer my resignation forthwith.”
“Have a seat, General.” The president turned to Brooks, who was already seated. “Is that true? You were present?”
Brooks nodded. “I’m prepared to offer my resignation as well, Mr. President. Strictly speaking, I should have reported the general myself.”
Couture looked at Brooks. “Glen, that wasn’t my point.”
“I know it wasn’t, Bill, but that doesn’t change the facts.”
The president held up his hand. “Stop. Before the two of you rush to fall on your swords before the emperor… you should know that I’m equally guilty.” He pushed back from the desk, allowing his gaze to drift around the room for a moment. “Hell, we’ve grown decadent from the top down, haven’t we?”
Couture exchanged uncomfortable glances with Brooks.
“The other day…” the president said. “Out there in the hall… I told Maddy about my upcoming meeting with Pope. I said to make sure it didn’t appear on my official schedule. I was distracted, and I wasn’t paying attention to who was around. Bonfils was standing just a few feet away, waiting to ask me what I wanted for dinner. The first lady usually handles that, but as you know, she’s in Missouri visiting her family.” He got up from the chair and turned to look out the window overlooking the lawn below.
“So, gentlemen, in all likelihood, I’m the leak that nearly got Pope assassinated.” He turned around. “Regardless, the people who work in this building all have top secret clearances, and every goddamn one of them knows they’re not to repeat what they hear within these walls. Christ Almighty! If it’s not safe to talk in the White House, where the hell is it safe?”
He sat back down, drumming his fingers on the desk. “Is Falcon going forward?”
“As we speak, sir,” Brook replied. “The Ohio is in contact with Shannon, and the SDV team is preparing to launch.”
“What about this maniac Kovalenko? Where’s he?”
“We’ve lost him,” Couture said. “The satellite couldn’t track him and Shannon both.”
“So the possibility remains that he will attempt to interfere with Shannon’s extraction — despite what he said to Walton?”
“Affirmative,” Brooks said.
“Should we postpone Falcon? Change the extraction point?”
“At this point, sir, the dangers of having Shannon and Dragunov on that island far outweigh any threat posed by Kovalenko. Sicilian and Italian authorities realize that elements of the CIA and the GRU have both violated their sovereignty, and they’re extremely determined to obtain proof to that effect. At least four Sicilian police officers are dead, and a number of civilians as well.”
“How many of those killings are Shannon’s doing?”
“According to Shannon, none.”
The president looked at Couture. “Do you buy that?”
Couture nodded. “I do, sir.”
The president drew a breath and sighed. “Okay. So what about the mysterious Agent Walton? Is he really off the grid?”
“It appears so,” Brooks answered. “But I’ve spoken with Pope about him, and I’m confident that situation will work itself out.”
An ironic grin spread across the president’s face. “Work itself out, Glen?”
“Those are Pope’s words, Mr. President. I asked him what he thought we should do about Walton’s betrayal, and he said to me, ‘Glen, I wouldn’t worry too much about Ben Walton. These things have a way of working themselves out.’ ”
Maybe it was the tension, but Couture couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m sorry, Mr. President. Forgive my levity. It’s just that Pope — oh, hell, I don’t know.”
The president sat nodding. “I think I understand, Bill. No one has any business being so valuable and so dangerous all at the same damn time.”
35
The Cape of San Vito was on the northwestern point of the island, two miles wide and five long with particularly rocky terrain running the length of the western shoreline. Gil and Dragunov were now well ensconced among the rocks, having ditched their car in the village of San Vito Lo Capo a click and a half to the east. Nothing but a lonely stretch of dirt road lay between them and the open waters of the Mediterranean a hundred yards away.
Gil scanned the water through a pair of infrared binoculars that had been stashed beneath the driver’s seat of the car, watching for the telltale flash of an infrared strobe that would be invisible to the naked eye.
“Typhoon actual, this is Typhoon main. Do you copy? Over.”
Gil picked up the sat phone, answering the USS Ohio’s transmission: “Roger that, main. I copy. Over.”
“Actual, be advised your driver is parking the car. Over.”
“Parking the car” meant that the SEAL team from the Ohio had arrived at its insertion point and was now in the process of “parking” the SDV on the ocean floor in 5 fathoms, or 32 feet, of water. The divers would be using rebreathers for stealth, recycling their unused oxygen to eliminate the large bubbles released by standard scuba tanks. The Ohio waited silently three miles out in international waters, 160 feet below the surface.
“Roger that, main.”
Gil looked at Dragunov. “Ready to get wet again, partner?”
Dragunov rubbed a hand over his face in the darkness. “This is always when I am most nervous — waiting for extraction.”
“Me too. Glad to hear it’s the same for Russians.”
“It was the same for the British at Dunkirk,” Dragunov said grimly. “The same for the Greeks when Themistocles ordered the evacuation of Athens. It’s always the same when the enemy is on your heels, and you’re about to show him your ass.”
The captain of the Ohio had already advised them that the extraction point was compromised, and they had agreed to proceed with the exfiltration; given their collective physical condition, another twenty-four hours on the island without food and water would be too dicey. Both men suffered from dehydration and suppurating wounds, and Gil had begun to run a low-grade fever, signaling the onset of infection. Without proper hydration, such a fever could quickly turn severe, particularly under the stress of combat conditions.
“How much longer?” Dragunov asked.
“They’ll park the SDV two hundred meters out then swim in beneath the surface. They’re lugging our dive gear, so that’ll slow ’em down a bit, but we should see the strobe in ten minutes or so. Only thing that concerns me is the delay in comms.” The Ohio had to relay its sat phone communications to the SDV team by radio, and this made it impossible to communicate with the divers in real time.