Deep Lie (13 page)

“Well. you’re right, Kate. the whole thing certainly is baffling. Do you have a new theory on why they’re doing it?”

Rule held up a hand.

“Not a new theory; maybe some support for an old one. But hang on, there are some other points to bring into this. They’re pretty scattered, but there may be a broad pattern emerging, which brings me to Majorov, who just might be the key to the whole thing.”

Nixon took his feet off the desk and sat up straight. His expression had gone blank.

Rule spread out her two satellite photographs on his desk.

“What we seem to have here is a very special sort of military training base. It’s at Liepaja, on the Latvian coast, and it’s special because they’ve gone to so much trouble to make it seem like something else.” She pointed out the drilling joggers and the double fencing.

“We know that Majorov loves expensive foreign cars and gadgets, and here we have, on the same base, mind you, a Mercedes 500 SE, which simply does not exist outside of Moscow, and, would you believe it, a golf cart?”

Nixon pulled a large magnifying glass from his desk drawer and examined the golf cart.

Rule tapped the photograph.

“I’d bet a year’s salary that one of those two men in the cart, the one with the baseball cap, is Majorov, and Majorov’s presence here increases the importance of this base to the nth degree.”

“What else have you got, Kate?” Nixon asked.

“Little stuff, crazy stuff, but stuff that fits. Item: the laundries at two marine infantry bases are suddenly doing markedly fewer shirts—that means significant numbers of men are being transferred elsewhere. Item: last month, two thousand Ingram Mac 10 submachine guns were stolen from a British arms depot—this guard”—she tapped the sat shot—“has an Ingram Mac 10 slung over his shoulder.

Item: there isn’t a known Soviet submarine base between Leningrad and Kaliningrad, down near the Polish border, but one of our best imagery analysts says that little thing right there is a submarine periscope. Item: now get this, please—during the last two years the Soviets have suddenly, dramatically increased the teaching of the Swedish language in their universities and language centers. Let me tell you something, Alan. Swedish is the most useless language in the world, unless you’re in Sweden.”

Nixon looked up sharply at her.

“What are you getting at. Kate?”

Rule pulled a news story from her file.

“This is a direct quote from Vice Admiral Bengt Schuback, who was at the time chief of staff of the Royal Swedish Navy. and who now is their equivalent of our chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff: “A foreign power is preparing for war with Sween.”

” Rule put down the paper and looked at Nixon.

“That’s just one of the many theories about what the Soviet subs are doing in Swedish waters, of course, but I think what is developing here suddenly lends a lot of weight to it. don’t you think?”

Nixon stared at her dumbly for a moment, then managed to speak.

“But why? Why would the Soviets suddenly ban don their policy of expansion without armed conflict 10 do something that might start World War III?”

“Start World War III? With whom? With us? Sweden is as determinedly neutral as Switzerland: she has no. repeat. w allies. Suppose, for a moment, that NATO decided to intervene: how would we do it? We have no land forces in place to stop a Soviet invasion of Sweden: we’d have to use nuclear weapons dc-you think for a moment that NATO would start a nuclear war, risking the destruction of Europe, possibly the world, to save eight million Swedes from Soviet domination?”

Nixon’s eyes seemed to go out of focus. He sat. frozen. seemingly speechless. Then he seemed to come to himself.

“Kate. I’m going to have to talk with some other people about this. Is this everything you have?”

“It’s everything I can get without a lot more authority If you can get me the clout, then I know I can come up with a lot more.” She made a determined effort to sound cool and calm.

“Look. Alan. I don’t want to sound like a crank about this; I know as well as anybody you’re going to talk to that all I’ve got here is. at best. informed supposition. But intelligence analysis is not quantum physics; it doesn’t operate according to some immutable natural law. Sometimes it’s just a step away from fortune telling, you know that, but I have to tell you. that based on my experience, I really believe something is going on here. I can’t prove it, though, and I’m not going to be able to unless you can persuade somebody to launch some sort of covert initiative to turn up more raw intelligence.”

“Just what sort of initiative do you want?”

Rule knew better than that. Simon Rule was director of Operations, and he would not be thrilled to hear her advice on the subject.

“There are people in the company better qualified than I to decide that,” she said.

“When they see this stuff, they’ll know the sort of information they need; they can put it out to the appropriate networks. Do you want me to go with you to put my case?” She knew he could do it better than she, if only he believed her. She thought he did.

“No, I think it’s better if I handle it myself, at least for the moment.” He gathered the photographs and her file together and stood up.

“I’m going to see somebody now, so stay in your office until you hear from me. Does anybody else know about this?”

“Only fragments. You’re the only person I’ve given it all to.”

“Good. For God’s sake, don’t say a word about this to anybody else.” Nixon walked out of his office with her file and left her standing there.

Rule took half a dozen deep breaths. She had done it; she had hooked Alan Nixon, and now he was carrying the ball. She walked back to her office with a light step. She wanted Alan Nixon’s job when he retired, and this was the sort of operation that would help her get it. This was original, brilliant work, she knew it, the sort of opportunity that came along once in a career, if you were lucky.

She had gotten lucky. HELDER walked once more around the mini sub, the clipboard in his hand. He looked up to see Majorov striding toward him across the giant sub shed. Majorov wasn’t going to like this. He was a planner, and he wasn’t going to like being told his plan was wrong.

“Good morning, Helder,” Majorov said.

“Sokolov.”

“Good morning, sir,” Helder and Sokolov said in unison.

“What is the problem?” the colonel asked.

“I hope there may not be one, sir,” Helder replied.

“I’m hoping the actual buoy will weigh less than the dummy.”

“Actually, it will weigh fifty kilos or so more. I’m sorry, I should have told you. Does that pose a problem?”

“Not really. Colonel,” Sokolov broke in.

Helder wheeled on the woman.

“Sokolov, stand at attention!”

Valerie Sokolov assumed the stance as slowly as possible.

“I will ask for your views when I wish to have them,” Helder said. He turned back to Majorov.

“Sir, I apologize for my crew. Are you certain about the weight of the actual buoy? What could weigh more than solid concrete?”

“Uranium 235,” Majorov replied.

“What?” Helder asked, unable to contain his surprise.

“Don’t worry, Helder,” Majorov said.

“It will be spent uranium. It is heavier than lead, and the buoy’s designersq want a very heavy base for purposes of ballast. The buoy must remain in an upright position in order to be effective.

How will the weight affect the sub?”

“Sir. with the present weight of the dummy, the sub’s maneuverability is marginal. With another fifty kilos added.

I believe we must increase the size of the diving planes and the rudder in order to have a proper degree of maneuverability.

Sokolov disagrees with me.” he added.

“Sokolov, state your position.”

“I do indeed disagree. Colonel,” Sokolov said. still at attention.

“I have witnessed three days of trials with the dummy aboard, and the sub seems to be responding adequately to its controls.”

“Helder?” Majorov asked, turning toward him.

“Yes. sir. the sub responds adequately under conditions in the lagoon, but it is my understanding that I am to assume combat conditions for this mission.”

“That is so.” Majorov said.

“Then I must assume that I might have to place the buoy while being hunted, perhaps even while being depth charged.

Maneuverability is inadequate for combat conditions at present, even using the dummy. With another fifty kilos added, the sub will be very sluggish indeed. Incidentally. I presume the operating range figures you gave me were calculated for the actual weight of the buoy?”

Majorov nodded.

“They were calculated to allow for the weight of the buoy for sixty percent of the mission.

You would, of course, be free of that weight on the return journey.”

“Sir, I must still disagree.” Sokolov said.

“The sub is responding adequately now, and I don’t see that another fifty kilos will matter much.”

“The reason you do not see it.” Helder cut in. “is that you are not at the controls, and you have no operational experience whatever to support your opinion.”

“Helder.” Majorov said, “give whatever instructions you feel are necessary for modifications to the sub. and let me know the shortest possible time they will take.”

“Sir.” Sokolov broke in again, “to increase the size of the diving planes and rudder will take three working days.”

“Wrong. Sokolov.” Helder said.

“They will take a day and a half, because you will not sleep until they are completed. Begin work now.”

“Yes, sir,” Sokolov said through clenched teeth, then wheeled and strode away, summoning the maintenance crew as she went.

“Colonel Majorov,” Helder said wearily, “I must ask you for a replacement for Sokolov. Not only is she inexperienced in subs, she is constantly insubordinate. I must tell you that if I had her in a fleet sub training crew I would have fired her out of a torpedo tube by now.”

Majorov laughed and clapped Helder on the back.

“I know, Helder, I had expected something like this, and I must tell you, you are handling her very well. However, there were other considerations in making this assignment.

Valerie Sokolov is a national heroine, because of her performance at the Olympics. I think you are aware of the role sports heroes play in our national life, and when this operation is completed, it will be important for nationally recognizable figures to have been a part of it. I can promise you, though, that once the operation is successful, you will never again encounter her in any operational capacity.

She will be quite busy visiting factories and schools, inspiring the workers and students. Believe me, even with her reputation, I would not have assigned her to you if she were not fully capable of the work. I know she is inexperienced in subs, but her role is a technical one, and I know very well that a commander of your experience with green sailors can handle a single woman, no matter how arrogant and difficult.” He clapped Helder on the back again.

“Press on with your modifications and your training. You are still on schedule; you will be ready when the moment comes.” He walked quickly toward the door, as if to avoid further discussion.

Helder turned back toward the sub with a heavy feeling in his chest. He had not had time to express his most important reservation about Valerie Sokolov. In the sub, under water, Sokolov was afraid, and she did not seem to be overcoming it as the training progressed. Helder was afraid of her fear. RULE drummed her fingers on the windowsill | and looked involuntarily at the phone. It had been more than an hour. Nixon was getting a hearing somewhere upstairs, she knew, because she had called his secretary twice, and he wasn’t in his office. The time was encouraging, she thought. She had put her case to Nixon in a few minutes. The longer they talked, the more credence they put in her theory. The time was creeping up on two hours when she called Will Lee.

“Hello.”

“Hello!”

There was never any need for names; they knew each other’s voices well.

“Listen,” she said. trying to contain herself, “I’ll buy you dinner tonight—and wherever you like.”

“You’re on. Let’s make it Restaurant Lasserre, in Paris, about eight-thirty?”

She laughed.

“You get us there by eight-thirty, and I’ll buy.”

“Oh. In that case, let’s make it Maison Blanche on F Street, and I’ll pick you up at eight.”

“I hope they take credit cards; payday isn’t ‘till the fifteenth.”

“Would I take undue advantage of your kind offer at a place that wouldn’t take your credit card? Anyway, if they won’t, I’ll make them hold your personal check until payday.”

“You’re a regular prince.”

“You know it. What’re we celebrating?”

“I’ll tell you tonight. By the way, it’s black tie.”

“You really know how to get even with a fellow, don’t you?”

“Eight o’clock. You book the table.” She hung up, glanced around and jumped. Alan Nixon was standing in her office door.