Shadow Wars, page 40
“It was, sir.”
“You also have rubbed elbows with some mean-thinking people, even if it was well-intentioned on your part and even if you weren’t aware of the extent they’d go to. Men like Norman Smith for one.” Crandall’s voice grew brittle as he leaned forward on the desk and folded his hands.
Hunter nodded, barely blinking as he waited, anticipating the imminent fracture of a relationship he’d treasured.
“You’re too good a man to waste, Henry. I just need to change your thinking a bit. I believe the old-line communists called what I have in mind,” and he paused to search for the exact words, “rehabilitation. That’s what they considered it when they sent someone off to prison to either reeducate them or eliminate them. The Chinese in Mao’s day were terrific at it.” He caught Hunter’s eye and smiled. “Kind of scary, isn’t it?”
Hunter nodded.
“But I’m not going to go to that extent with you, Henry, because you’re still one of my best friends and I don’t think anything you ever said or did was intended to harm me. You might even like what I have in mind because you always liked traveling. I’m going to send you to Moscow.”
“Moscow?”
“I’ve already talked with Sergei Markov and he likes the idea. He and I are going to have a sort of exchange program. I have to select someone close to me to work with him within his system, to understand better what he’s going through and to convey that to me. And he’s going to send someone to me to essentially accomplish the same objective. This requires a bright person who understands the workings of our own government perfectly, and it requires someone with an open mind. You certainly qualify on the first part …” Crandall paused before he raised a hand and pointed it at Hunter’s face. “And you’re damn well going to qualify on the second. It’s time.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Isn’t that better than getting your ass fired?”
“I don’t quite know how to—”
“Don’t. Second chances are rare in this business. When you come back, you’re going to understand a new world.”
The black Zil limousine turned off the main highway into the cemetery. The highway had been scraped clear of snow down to the surface but the narrow road into the cemetery was covered from the previous night’s snowfall. No tire tracks had broken the even, peaceful white blanket, no footprints were visible by the grave site as the Zil pulled over and stopped.
Sergei Markov pushed open the rear door and stepped out into the snow. He was hatless and a chill breeze from the north played with long, uneven strands of gray hair as he trudged through the ankle-deep snow to the spot he’d occupied the previous day. A few frozen bouquets of flowers, their petals shriveled, their leaves blackened, poked above the soft, white drifts. His own spray was still on its pedestal, the huge silk bow standing out in snowy relief against the dead roses. There hadn’t been many people for the brief ceremony—two of Tatyana’s relatives, a few friends, and the president of Russia accompanied by three bodyguards had been the only ones to say good-bye to her. Today, on his orders, the guards remained inside the warm Zil.
It hadn’t been difficult for the authorities to determine that Arkady Malik had killed Tatyana. He’d been identified by people in her apartment building and there’d been no effort by Malik to destroy any evidence. The man refused to discuss her death or any other situation from his cell in the Lubyanka. Both Voronov and Shaporin had offered to settle the matter in their own way, but Markov had declined, stating that many of the old ways were no longer acceptable in the new Russia.
Markov stared down into the snow as if he could see through the frozen earth, through the copper-lined casket, through her closed lids—into the deep blue eyes that had loved him without pretense. He understood why she’d had to die, and he accepted it. That was the Russian way. Today we live … tomorrow we die. But how many more Russians would have to die before his nation made peace with itself?
In his grief, he’d thought of what he might do to memorialize Tatyana—a magnificent stone to mark her resting place, roses sent every day of the year to the site, even a statue like the ones cast to remember all those who had died for Mother Russia. But when he considered how Tatyana thought about herself, none seemed appropriate.
Instead, Sergei Markov reached under his coat and with chilled, numb fingers undid the clasp of the button on his lapel. It represented the village where he was born and had been designed when he became president. Tatyana had loved it. He looked at it briefly in the palm of his hand before dropping it on top of the grave where it disappeared into the snow.
Sometimes, Tatyana, we have to give up the one we love for something else we love.
Sergei Markov climbed back into the black Zil knowing he would not return to her grave again. There was so much work to be done for the country he loved more than life itself.
Ryng hadn’t quite remembered the blouse that created the warm orange glow until she removed it when they returned to his room and once again slipped it over the lamp beside the bed. He’d suggested—was even about to insist—that they take a suite at the Palace their first night back. That was Prague’s finest and he’d argued that she deserved it after all that had happened to …
“Hush,” Kat had whispered as they strolled through the snowy wonder of Wenceslas Square. “I had a dream that kept me going whenever I wondered whether there was going to be a you and a me again. We walked through this square and watched the students light their candles … and that’s … that’s when I thought about being free again,” she said haltingly. “Then we walked back to the same restaurant Ben Gannett sent us to that first time. I remembered everything we ordered, even the wine. Afterward, I saw the clock in Old Town Square and I counted each of the figures that paraded past the doors. I was even sure I counted each step across the Charles Bridge and, of course, I closed my eyes with each kiss. And then we continued on back to your cozy little room.”
Ryng had been touched, more deeply than he could remember, as she recounted that dream. Then, right there in Wenceslas Square with the students turning from their candles to watch and smile knowingly, the American woman stopped the older man, stepped around in front of him and pulled his head down, and kissed him.
“And we’re not going to change a thing,” Kat murmured as she smiled up at him.
They hadn’t.
Now, as he basked in the orange glow, Ryng knew morning must be near because the steam radiator in the corner was beginning its ritual clanging. They’d slept for a few hours. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, then opened them again and thanked every god that needed to be thanked that this wasn’t a dream. The color from Kat’s blouse filled the room with an aura of warmth. Kat, her blonde hair strewn across the pillow, stirred and reached an arm across his chest.
“You told me about the radiator,” she murmured. “I never stayed here long enough to hear it, but I imagined that, too.” She used her arm to pull closer until they were one and her leg was on top of both of his. “And I thought of you … like this … beside me … all the time.” Kat raised her head. “Did you think about the same things?”
“Yes,” he answered so softly that she could barely hear him. He remembered that long ago, another time, another world, there was another woman that he’d loved in much the same way … no, that wasn’t quite right. There’d been a second in an even stranger world … a deadly world, and for a moment he was afraid that the same thing could happen to Kat. But the thought passed just as quickly. She—they—had survived this time and he wouldn’t let the same thing happen again. “Yes, I thought of you all the time, and each time I loved you a little more.”
“That sounds so beautiful,” she sighed.
Ryng lifted his arm and glanced at his watch. “Time to roll out,” he said casually. “I’ve got to report to work soon and—”
“No, Bernie, we’re not finished yet. Why do you want to do that?”
“Because I’m going to order tickets back to Washington, for both of us, one way,” he added.
“One way?” She rose on her elbow. “What about your job?”
“I’m packing everything I own here and taking it with me. After I make my final report to President Crandall, I’m going to take a cab across the river to the Pentagon and resign as attaché. I wasn’t really cut out for it to begin with. Then, I’m going to take thirty days’ leave and we’re going to do this right.”
Kat sighed luxuriously. “You mean you’re going to make an honest woman of me?”
“That’s not the way I was going to propose …”
“Shhh … you already have,” Kat whispered. “But let’s take an extra day or two and get the formalities out of the way here. The dream’s not over yet. I want to spend one more night in this room before we go back to that other world.”
Other books by Charles D. Taylor
Shadows of Vengeance
Larisa recognized the KGB officer—recognized him as a traitor she saw as a six-year-old child. Then he recognizes her, as well, and Larisa is on the run. CIA agent Morrison wants to find her to save her, to hold her one last time. But Morrison knows his only hope now might be for revenge.
Show of Force
As the two largest, most powerfully equipped naval fleets in history move slowly toward each other near Islas Piedras–an American missile site in the Indian Ocean that threatens Russia’s grip on the Middle East–two men stand in the darkened control rooms of their ships. David Charles and Alex Kupinsky are worried because, as the admirals of these fleets, they may be responsible for all-out nuclear war. They are also concerned because once, a long time ago, they were the best of friends…
As Admirals Charles and Kupinsky face imminent disaster, forced to make their moves on the chessboard of modern warfare, we look back over their pasts as men of peace and men of war. David Charles learned the hard way in the tragic Bay of Pigs, on the treacherous rivers of Vietnam, and in the backrooms of embassies around the world. Alex Kupinsky was raised by the man who watched his father die in World War II–the same man who has since become Admiral of the Fleet of the Soviet Union.
Moving from the real past to the possible future, from romantic memories of the women left behind to hard action on the high seas, SHOW OF FORCE is the story of men turned warriors, of a world turned battlefield. And as communications break down between Washington, Moscow, and the fleets themselves, it becomes the story of two men with the power to stop that ultimate folly of the mighty, World War III.
Boomer
Twenty years ago, the KGB planted an agent in the American Navy. Today he is the commander of an American nuclear attack submarine!
Wayne Newell is all-Navy, all-American, all-traitor. A graduate of the Soviet “Charm School,” Newell is captain of the nuclear attack submarine USS Pasadena, now patrolling beneath the Pacific. He’s convinced his crew that the world is at war—and that the Russians have a deadly masking device that makes Soviet submarines sound exactly like the most crucial ships in the American fleet: the nuclear-powered ballistic missile submarines known as Boomers. The subs that Pasadena detects may sound American—but they’re the enemy and must be destroyed. The deception has begun…
In a world of darkness, super-sensitive listening devices and nerve-wracking tension, Newell’s crew is being driven to the breaking point, cut off from communications, forced to destroy “enemy” subs in a war they can’t confirm. And while the U.S. Pacific Command scrambles to find out who is attacking their fleet, two American submarines must go to war—against an aggressor who knows their every move, and is rapidly destroying America’s sea-based strategic nuclear defense.
The Twilight Patriots
(Previously published as The Sunset Patriots)
Admiral Theodore Magnuson, Director of the Office of Naval Intelligence, didn’t like the idea of sending the Seventh Fleet to Vladivostok for a New Year’s celebration with the Russians. The President didn’t give a damn what Magnuson thought, however; he was after detente.
Fearing the worst, Magnuson decides to run his own intelligence mission, sending men into Russia and China. The Admiral is certain the U.S. visit to the usually closed Soviet port is a cover for something. Something big.
The Chinese are faced with a similar problem—and a big question. Why is a combined U.S.-Soviet fleet steaming into the East China Sea?
First Salvo
BATTLE IN THE MEDITERRANEAN
Following a catastrophe with the Block Island Ferry, an assassination in Turkey, and the collision of two ships in the Sea of Japan, American forces have only five days to stop a Soviet plot and the prevent start of World War III. Led by Admiral David Pratt, the Americans assemble two teams to strike at the Soviets in their own back yard. The first, a strike force team of Navy SEALS, has the task of infiltrating a base of Black Berets in Spitzbergen. The other, an effort led by Russian-speaking Henry Cobb, is to capture the head of the Strategic Rocket Forces of the Soviet Union. Only their combined efforts can win the day.
Filled with non-stop action on the land, air, and sea, death-defying escapes, and tension-filled submarine and carrier battles, First Salvo is a classic tale set against the backdrop of the Cold War era.
Silent Hunter
The Russians are converting the Arctic Ocean into a Soviet domain.
The American response: IMPERATOR … the most advanced weapon ever devised in submarine warfare. As large as an aircraft carrier, it glides silently along the ocean floor, and within it is a dazzling arsenal of weaponry, years ahead of Soviet technology.
But the Russians only have one course of action: they must destroy IMPERATOR!
Deep Sting
ONE MAN BELIEVES HE CAN GAIN CONTROL OF THE MOST POWERFUL NAVAL FORCE IN THE WORLD—AND HIS ENEMY WILL NEVER KNOW!
While the two superpowers are apparently relaxing under the spirit of glasnost, Nicholas Koniev, a Soviet strategic and technical genius and a Spetznaz-trained warrior, is leading a near-suicidal mission into the American submarine base of Bangor, Washington—home of the vital Trident missile subs. He appears to be using mini-subs to seed the harbor with sonar-activated mines that will deny the Tridents access to the Pacific, but appearances are deceiving. His actual mission is a one-man quest to neutralize the Trident system forever.
Bernie Ryng, a seasoned Navy SEAL with a string of legendary exploits to his credit, is heading a small, elite team of SEALS and trained dolphins to reinforce the Tridents’ security. A beautiful Englishwoman on a lonely island is the only human being who may be able to help Koniev escape. As Ryng closes in, Koniev alone knows that there are two prizes he’s after…
Counterstrike
ASSASSINATION GAME
His name is Duran. Cuba’s fanatical successor to Castro, he poses the ultimate threat to Soviet power—and American peace. Both countries want him dead. And while Soviet forces move to replace Duran with a political puppet, America formulates its own plan of action. A daring game of cross … double-cross … and war …
COUNTERSTRIKE
Chillingly realistic, exciting, and powerful—this epic thriller brings to life an explosive clash of superpowers, battling for military control. Bestselling author Charles D. Taylor presents his newest and biggest blockbuster. A masterwork of suspense …
War Ship
For the Russians, it was the espionage coup of the century …
An espionage operation has gone horribly wrong … Soviet agents take a bold gamble and seize an American ship.
Now the U.S.S. Gettysburg sits at a dock in Cam Ranh Bay. A computerized, state-of-the-art war ship, the Gettysburg is the never center of America’s sea-air defenses. For the Soviets, it’s a prize beyond compare.
But even as Russian scientists prepare to probe the Gettysburg’s vital secrets, one man begins his desperate race to rescue the ship. His name is David Chance. A former SEAL commando, he’s been through hell and back. But he’s never had a mission like this …
Sightings
They are true soldiers of fortune. Twenty-five years ago they walked away from a war. Now they sit atop an empire…built on the blood of those they have betrayed.
Charles D. Taylor, bestselling author of BOOMER and SHADOW WARS delivers his most daring and dramatic suspense novel yet, as he unravels a web of greed, violence, and corruption stretching from the turmoil of Vietnam to the financial heart of Hong Kong to the top ranks of the Pentagon itself.
Two MIA sightings a world apart — one in the Laotian jungle, the other at Washington's Vietnam War Memorial — have led Navy SEAL Commander Matthew Stone, working for the Defense Intelligence Agency, to the threshold of a conspiracy a quarter of a century old. It began in the Iron Triangle of Vietnam — Bravo Company — where a few men struck a deal with a corrupt CIA operative and chose the drug trade as their ticket out of the war. And from the seed of the opium poppy they built a vast multinational conglomerate, its tendrils of power and influence extending across the Pacific Rim of Asia. For twenty-five years they have been listed as missing in action; now they're willing to kill to stay missing forever.
Commander Stone is compelled to action by his own sense of honor, and by the painful quest for truth of Leila Potter. Her brother, attached to Bravo Company, died in the Iron Triangle under mysterious circumstances. And neither she nor Stone will rest until the scattered clues are pieced together…and the missing brought to account.
