Undeceived (24 page)

Chapter 35

February 1984
The Park Coffee Shop, Washington, DC

“Table for one?”

“You think?”

“Don’t get smart with me, young man. It isn’t in your best interests, and I’m not particularly happy with you right now.”

Darcy followed the older man to a table in the corner.

“Cuppa joe?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll bring it right out.”

Darcy shuffled in his seat, staring out at the cold sunlit winter morning.

“Here you go. Milk, no sugar, right?”

He nodded.

“I brought two cups. It’s early, and the cafe is empty, so I thought I’d join you.” The blue eyes twinkled with amusement. “Sorry to get you out of a warm bed.”

“And out of the warm woman in it?”

Amusement turned icy cold. “I think that remark is a bit inappropriate.”

“Not sure why you’d care about the remark…or the woman.”

“I do care about her after a fashion. She’s yours, after all, and I look out for my assets. I did have to deal with that business with Collins. He sure went after her when his back was up against the wall.”

“And you had no responsibility in that?”

“I helped make the monster perhaps, but I couldn’t let him harm her. It was a real dilemma for me.” The old man shook his head.

“The universe plays cruel tricks on everyone.”

“So it does, you included. Thank goodness, you took care of my problem for me. I feel guilty about that, but I’ll get over it—and probably sooner than I should. But moving forward.”

“What do you want now?”

“I’m becoming impatient. Your intel has been lackluster so far. My comrades at the Soviet Embassy say they’re having trouble verifying the information you gave me at our last meeting. It’s time to cough up some assets, William. I think we now have…shall we say…the proper motivation to convince you.”

“I’m still not sure about this. It’s a big step, giving up real people instead of information. What happens if I say no?”

“You won’t want to do that. You have…so much more to lose now. Your career or maybe even your life is at stake. No longer something you can throw away. Think of your new wife and your unborn child.”

“How do you know about Elizabeth’s pregnancy?”

“I keep my eye on her.”

Darcy tried his best to bluff. “I could leave her in half a second and never look back.”

“I don’t think so.”

“You have no idea what I’m capable of.”

“Oh, I think I do. I received an interesting letter several months ago. As the letter principally concerned yourself, perhaps you deserve to know its contents.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“No?” The older man pulled out a letter and peered down his nose at it. “You’ll be shocked to know the source of my information. This letter is from the late, great Comrade Collins.”

“Your golden boy.”

“At least until he panicked after your sister was rescued from Czechoslovakia. Who knew that his attendance at an unimportant dissident’s meeting in Prague would have such far-reaching effects—for all of us? After that, he went down a road the KGB couldn’t navigate for him anymore. He went rogue, as they say. So then, he simply had to go away. But that’s a story you already know. Interestingly enough, he was the one who provided the means of your downfall—with this letter.” The older man waved the paper in the air.

Darcy cast a surreptitious look around the cafe.

“Don’t worry, son. No one’s watching or listening in. We’re not even open for business yet, but I think we’re about to be, you and I.” The warm, engaging smile was familiar enough to send a shiver down Darcy’s back.

Mr. Baker opened an old, creased envelope. “Would you like me to read it? The decoded version of course. So you know the entire story?”

“Suit yourself. You’re the boss.”

“Comrade:

I offer congratulations on the capture and execution of the traitor known to the CIA as Top Coat. I know that my source was invaluable in the success of that mission, and she has assured me of her continued support, even though she is currently working undercover in East Berlin.

“He goes on to talk up his own meager contributions to that op, but I won’t sport with your impatience by reading the rest of that obsequious drivel. Collins always put way too much unnecessary information in his communiqués. Now, here is the part that pertains to you:

“I have news that may interest you. I know in the past, you expressed some interest in another possible recruit inside the CIA. In accordance with your plan, a team of officers is now investigating this man. The lead on that assignment is GW, but he’s being assisted by EB, who is undercover. (GW has real possibilities for us. He has the weaknesses we can capitalize upon, particularly financial obligations he can’t fulfill. He’s impulsive; however, that may end up being a fatal flaw.)”

The older man stopped, took a sip of his coffee. “You know, most people saw Collins as a numb-nuts, but he could ferret out a man’s weaknesses in the blink of an eye. Had a real talent for it. Maybe because he was such as weak man himself.”

“Still not sure what any of this has to do with me.”

“Have patience, my young friend, I’m getting to it…

“Your interest in the London Fog has always baffled me because I projected he would be a difficult nut to crack and not worth the effort. But recent observations in Budapest, East Berlin, and here at Langley have led me to believe that, although money won’t work on him because he has no need of it, something else—or rather someone else—will. He’s developed a tendre for another agent, this EB—his interpreter from Budapest, a woman whose assignment dictated she follow him to East Berlin. He tries to hide the attraction, and the woman herself seems oblivious, but it’s apparent to anyone with trained observational skills that he’s obsessed with her. I believe I can manipulate GW into sending her into his arms, as it were, while he’s in the agency’s bizarre exile down in the Caribbean. It’s perfect—he’s been ostracized, separated from his powerful friends like CB, and appears to have lost his lady to the demands of her career. She’s certainly been hard at work and a little too close for my comfort since her return from East Germany.

“Imagine my shock when I learned that this young woman and the field officer investigating you were the very same person!

“It was only later after he disposed of Wickham that I realized Collins was out of control and his days were numbered. His panic-based decision-making on a Tobago beach sealed his fate. He was a lost cause, but perhaps he served his purpose with this nugget of information. It gave way to a previously unknown path leading to you. A viable honey trap! Impoverished Americans think with their wallets, but the wealthy ones? They always think with their libidos. I just had the wrong honey. I had tried to get to you before with poor Anneliese and failed.

“But let’s go on, shall we?

“My reason for cautioning you is this: this young woman has no obvious weaknesses we can capitalize on. Her life up to this point has been her job. If she were smart, she would jump at this chance; the London Fog is rich and powerful—and could boost her career immeasurably—but I’m not sure she has either the sagacity or cynicism to see it that way.

“Personally, I think he underestimated her. Of course, he had no idea that I had another connection to Elizabeth.” The older man smiled brilliantly. “But you know, don’t you?”

“I suspected, based on a discussion she and I had once.”

“So you kept your ear to the ground and went into the agency archives.” He nodded thoughtfully. “Very smart. You are a very smart man, Darcy. Like your father.”

“I should have turned you both in when he approached me about you.”

“Perhaps you should have, given the way things have turned out. Why didn’t you?”

“I never thought it would matter. I never understood the hook you had in him. Then he was gone, and it seemed to be over.”

“Until you found out about Jirina. Yes, he wanted my help to get her out. The diplomatic channels were deteriorating, and he thought he was running out of time. He was—just not in the way he anticipated. His little daughter trapped in limbo, and him unable to help or guide her. No wonder he came to me for help. Although we had parted ways years before, he knew I would…empathize with his predicament.”

Darcy laughed. “There’s not a drop of empathy in you, you cold-hearted son-of-a-bitch.”

“You misjudge me, my son. May I call you ‘my son’? It has a nice ring to it. I always wanted a son.”

Darcy ignored that topic. “In the end, Jirina didn’t need either of you.”

“Well, that’s debatable but a mute point now. Your father’s untimely death forced her to take her fate in her own hands. She may not have needed us, but she managed a world of trouble that made her need a whole lot more than I could deliver. However, you, the dutiful brother, provided—a little late, but you’ve been making up for lost time.”

“She’s been moved from Barbados now. You’ll never find her. You can’t use her to get to me. Not now.”

“But Elizabeth? She’s a different matter. What will the CIA’s little darling do once she finds out what you really are?”

“And what am I exactly? I’m the latest victim of ‘sins of the father being visited on the son.’ As for Elizabeth…”

“Yes?”

“You underestimate her. Plain and simple.”

“Ah, how sweet. Love hopes all things, endures all things, does it not?”

“You know, the world is evolving. Far-reaching changes that will leave you and your kind with nothing. I don’t know when that will happen, but I’ve been behind the Iron Curtain, and I’ve heard the rumblings of the people. Communism is a façade that will crumble, maybe in just a few short years. When that happens, you’ll all be extinct, like dinosaurs.” Darcy stood up. “I’ve made up my mind. I’m done here, and I’m done with you.”

“You’ve come too far to go back now, William. Go on home to your young, beautiful wife and tell her…well, never mind. I’ll tell her myself. It will be a shock no doubt, but then a girl likes to be crossed in love now and again. Who knows, Darcy? I might try for her next.”

“She rose from your ashes, Tom. She’s four times the intelligence officer and ten times the human being you’ll ever be.”

“I hope she’s the forgiving sort, for your sake, but don’t count on it. She is my daughter after all. I’m so proud of her.”

***

June 1984 The National Mall, Washington, DC

Nestled in a grove of trees, Darcy sat on a bench within view of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial, holding his wife’s hand in silence. They watched the tourists amble by the wall in a subdued, reverent procession belied by the bright vacation T-shirts, sun visors, and cameras around their necks. A few stopped to lay a sheet of paper against a name and rub over it with a piece of charcoal or chalk, imprinting the name as a memento of a friend or loved one who now belonged to the ages.

Elizabeth looked up at him and smiled her reassurance while they waited for their friend. “You know, I think this memorial is my favorite.”

“How so, darling?”

“It never fails to move me. It starts out small, a scattering of names at your feet. You hear the chatter of people around you. On a day like this, you see the sunshine, feel the breeze on your face, but while you walk alongside the wall, the names grow—and you gradually sink deeper and deeper into the ground. Suddenly, you realize that the wall’s enormity has dimmed the sunlight and muted the sounds of life. All you see is the tragedy of a lost war, but then as you continue through the memorial, a quiet reverence takes over. If you keep walking, the despair dissipates little by little. At the wall’s end, you return to the present, level with the grass again and back in the world of the living, but you realize the quiet stays with you. You’re forever changed by that walk alongside the names of the fallen. Yet you know you will move on.”

He leaned over, kissed her mouth, and wiped the little tears that sprang from her eyes. “Are you all right, sweetheart?”

She nodded. “Emotional. Pregnancy hormones, most likely.”

“That’s all?”

“Maybe not all. But we’re doing the right thing.”

“He’s your father. For many years he was your hero.”

“That was all an illusion.”

“An illusion that helped shape who you are. Losing him as an emotional anchor is a great loss and a heavy burden to carry.”

She held his hand against her cheek. “It is.”

“They will charge him with treason. He’ll most likely die in prison.”

“I idolized Tom Bennet for years, or I idolized the man I thought he was, but now I realize he was just a sperm donor. Jim’s really my father because he raised me. Tom’s influence was like the first steps of the memorial wall—it was the beginning, but it was only a small part of my story. It was what—and who—came into my life as I walked along that had the most influence on making me the person I am.”

“And you yourself had the greatest impact of all—by the choices you made.”

Charles Bingley approached their bench, hands in the pockets of his khaki dress pants. Darcy stood, and the two shook hands. Bingley leaned down and kissed Elizabeth’s cheek.

“How are you doing, Mrs. Darcy?”

“I’m well, Deputy Director. How are you?”

“I’m fine, just fine.”

“How’s Johanna?”

He beamed. “Also well. She sent in her application for naturalization last month.”

“Charles! Wow, that’s wonderful news!”

“She wants to be a citizen before we tie the knot. Think I can pull some strings to make that happen a little faster?” He laughed.

“If anyone can, it’s you.” She gave him a fierce hug. “I’m happy for you both.”

“Congratulations, Charles.” Darcy clapped him on the shoulder.

“I hear we have some sad business to take care of. Do you have it?”

“I do.” Darcy pulled a tiny cassette tape from his shirt pocket.

“Is it over?” Elizabeth asked.

“They’re standing by to pick him up as soon as I verify I have the last information. He didn’t suspect you were wired?”

“I wasn’t. At least not in the traditional way.”

“Then how?”

“One of Ina’s newfangled listening devices. Elizabeth operated it from the alleyway.”

“Very clever. Can we get our hands on one of those?”

“You should ask her; it’s her prototype.”

Bingley looked down as he dug a little trough in the gravel with his shoe. “Are you at peace with this situation, my friend?”

Darcy nodded. “After Elizabeth, Ina, and I put our heads together, this seemed like the best solution. Not the easiest, not without consequences, but the best. A solution that would give us a real future.”