Authors: Ken Follett
It was Luke.
Information from the satellite’s recording instruments is transmitted via radio by a musical tone. The different instruments use tones of different frequencies, so that the “voices” can be separated, electronically, when they are received.
Luke had been dreading this moment.
He had dropped Billie off at the Starlite. She planned to check in and freshen up, then get a cab to the base in time to see the launch. Luke had gone straight to the blockhouse and learned that takeoff was now scheduled for 10:45
P
.
M
. Willy Fredrickson had explained the precautions the team had taken to prevent the sabotage of the rocket. Luke was not completely reassured. He wished Theo Packman had been arrested, and he would have liked to know where Anthony was. However, neither of them could do anything with the wrong code. And the new plugs were locked in a safe, Willy told him.
He would feel less worried when he had seen Elspeth. He had not told anyone about his suspicions of her—partly because he could not bear to accuse her, partly because he had no evidence. But when he looked into her eyes and asked her to tell him the truth, he would know.
He came up the stairs in Hangar R with a heavy heart. He had to talk to Elspeth about her betrayal, and he had to confess that he had been unfaithful to her. He did not know which was worse.
As he reached the top of the stairs he passed a man in colonel’s uniform who spoke without stopping. “Hey, Luke, good to have you
back, see you in the blockhouse.” Then he saw a tall redhead emerge from an office along the corridor, looking anxious. There was a poised tension to her slender body as she stood in the doorway, looking past Luke at the colonel going down the stairs. She was more beautiful than her wedding photograph. Her pale face had a faint glow, like the surface of a lake at dawn. He felt a jolt of emotion like a shot in the arm, a strong feeling of tenderness for her.
He spoke to her, and then she noticed him. “Luke!” She came quickly toward him. Her smile of welcome showed genuine pleasure, but he saw fear in her eyes. She threw her arms around him and kissed his lips. He realized he should not have been surprised—she was his wife, and he had been away all week. A hug was the most natural thing in the world. She had no idea that he suspected her, so she was continuing to act like a normal wife.
He cut short the kiss and detached himself from her embrace. She frowned and looked hard at him, trying to read his expression. “What is it?” she said. Then she sniffed, and sudden anger suffused her face. “You son of a bitch, you smell of sex.” She pushed him away. “You fucked Billie Josephson, you bastard!” A passing scientist looked startled to hear such language, but she took no notice. “You fucked her on the goddamn train.”
He did not know what to say. Her betrayal was worse than his, but all the same he was ashamed of what he had done. Anything he said was going to sound like an excuse, and he hated excuses; they made a man pathetic. So he said nothing.
Her mood switched again, just as quickly. “I don’t have time for this,” she said. She looked up and down the corridor, seeming impatient and distracted.
Luke was suspicious. “What do you have to do that is more important than this conversation?”
“My job!”
“Don’t worry about that.”
“What the hell are you talking about? I have to go. We’ll talk later.”
“I don’t think so,” he said firmly.
She reacted to his tone. “What do you mean, you don’t think so?”
“When I was at the house I opened a letter addressed to you.” He took it out of his jacket pocket and gave it to her. “It’s from a doctor in Atlanta.”
The blood drained from her face. She pulled the letter out of the envelope and began to read it. “Oh, my God,” she whispered.
“You had your tubes tied six weeks before our wedding,” he said. Even now he could hardly believe it.
Tears came to her eyes. “I didn’t want to do it,” she said. “I had to.”
He recalled what the doctor had said about Elspeth’s state—insomnia, loss of weight, sudden crying, depression—and he felt a surge of compassion. His voice fell to a whisper. “I’m so sorry you’ve been unhappy,” he said.
“Don’t be nice to me, I couldn’t stand it.”
“Let’s go into your office.” He took her arm and led her into the room, closing the door. She went automatically to her desk and sat down, fumbling in her purse for a handkerchief. He got the big chair from behind the boss’s desk and pulled it over so that he could sit close to her.
She blew her nose. “I almost didn’t have the operation,” she said. “It broke my heart.”
He looked carefully at her, trying to be cool and detached. “I guess they forced you to,” he said. He paused. Her eyes widened. “The KGB,” he went on, and she stared at him. “They ordered you to marry me so that you could spy on the space program, and they made you get sterilized so that you would not have children to divide your loyalties.” He saw a terrible grief in her eyes, and he knew he was right. “Don’t lie,” he said quickly. “I won’t believe you.”
“All right,” she said.
She had admitted it. He sat back. It was all over. He felt breathless and bruised, as if he had fallen out of a tree.
“I kept changing my mind,” she said, and tears rolled down her face as she spoke. “In the morning I’d be determined to do it. Then at lunch time I’d call you on the phone, and you’d say something about a house with a big yard for children to run around in, and I’d make up my mind
to defy them. Then, alone in bed at night, I’d think how badly they needed the information I could get if I was married to you, and I’d resolve all over again to do what they wanted.”
“You couldn’t do both?”
She shook her head. “As it was I could hardly stand it, loving you and spying on you at the same time. If we’d had children, I never could have done it.”
“What made you decide, in the end?”
She sniffed and wiped her face. “You’re not going to believe me. It was Guatemala.” She gave a queer little laugh. “Those wretched people only wanted schools for their children and a trade union to protect them and the chance to earn a living. But it would have put a few cents on the price of bananas, and United Fruit didn’t want that, so what did the U.S. do? We overthrew their government and put in a fascist puppet. I was working for the CIA at the time, so I knew the truth. It made me so angry—that those greedy men in Washington could screw a poor country and get away with it, and tell lies about it, and have the press tell Americans that it was a revolt by local anti-communists. You’ll say it’s a strange thing to get emotional about, but I can’t tell you how mad I was.”
“Mad enough to do damage to your body.”
“And betray you, and ruin my marriage.” She lifted her head, and a proud look came over her face. “But what hope is there for the world, if a nation of penniless peasants can’t try to climb up out of the mud without being crushed under the jackboot of Uncle Sam? The only thing I regret is denying you children. That was wicked. The rest, I’m proud of.”
He nodded. “I guess I understand.”
“That’s something.” She sighed. “What are you going to do? Call the FBI?”
“Should I?”
“If you do, I’ll end up in the electric chair, like the Rosenbergs.”
He winced as if someone had stabbed him. “Christ.”
“There’s an alternative.”
“What?”
“Let me go. I’ll catch the first plane out. I’ll go to Paris, Frankfurt, Madrid, anywhere in Europe. From there I can get a flight to Moscow.”
“Is that what you want to do? Live out your days there?”
“Yes.” She gave a wry grin. “I’m a KGB colonel, you know. I’d never be a colonel in the U.S.”
“You’d have to go now, immediately,” he said.
“Okay.”
“I’ll escort you to the gate, and you’ll have to give me your pass so you can’t get back in.”
“Okay.”
He looked at her, trying to imprint her face on his memory. “I guess this is goodbye.”
She picked up her purse. “Can I go to the ladies’ room first?”
“Of course,” he said.
The main scientific purpose of the satellite is to measure cosmic rays, in an experiment designed by Dr. James Van Allen of the State University of Iowa. The most important instrument inside it is a Geiger counter.
Elspeth walked out of her office, turned left, passed the door of the ladies’ room, and entered Colonel Hide’s office.
It was empty.
She closed the door behind her and stood leaning against it, trembling with relief. The office swam in her sight as her eyes filled with tears. The triumph of her life was within her grasp, but she had just ended her marriage to the best man she had ever known, and she was committed to leave the country of her birth and spend the rest of her days in a land she had never seen.
She closed her eyes and made herself breathe slowly and deeply: one, out, two, out, three, out. After a moment she felt better.
She turned the key in the office door. Then she went to the cupboard behind Hide’s desk and knelt in front of the safe. Her hands were shaking. With an effort of will, she made them steady. For some reason she recalled her Latin lessons at school, and the proverb “Festina lente”—hurry slowly.
She repeated the actions Hide had performed when she watched him opening the safe. First she spun the dial four times anticlockwise, stopping at 10. Next she turned it three times in the other direction,
stopping at 29. Then she turned it twice anticlockwise, stopping at 14. She tried to turn the handle. It would not move.
She heard footsteps outside, and a woman’s voice. The sounds from the corridor seemed unnaturally loud, like noises in a nightmare. But the footsteps receded and the voice faded.
She knew the first number was 10. She dialed it again. The second number could have been 29 or 28. She dialed 28 this time, then 14 again.
The handle still would not turn.
She had tried only two possibilities out of the eight. Her fingers were slippery with sweat, and she wiped them on the hem of her dress. Next she tried 10, 29, 13, then 10, 28, 13.
She was halfway through the list.
She heard a distant hooter give a warning blast—two shorts and a long, sounded three times in succession. This meant that all personnel should clear the launch pad area. The launch was an hour away. She glanced involuntarily at the door, then returned her attention to the dial.
The combination 10, 29, 12 did not work.
But 10, 28, 12 did.
Jubilant, she turned the handle and pulled open the heavy door.
The two plugs were still there. She allowed herself a smile of triumph.
There was no time now to dismantle them and sketch the wiring. She would have to take them to the beach. Theo could either copy the wiring or use the actual plug in his own transmitter.
A danger occurred to her. Was it possible someone might notice the absence of the duplicate plugs in the next hour? Colonel Hide had gone to the blockhouse and was unlikely to return before blastoff. She had to take the risk.
There was a footstep outside the office, and someone tried the door.
Elspeth stopped breathing.
A man’s voice called, “Hey, Bill, you in there?” It sounded like Harry Lane. What the hell did he want? The doorknob rattled. Elspeth kept still and silent. Harry said, “Bill doesn’t normally keep his door locked, does he?”
Another voice replied, “I don’t know, I guess the head of security is entitled to lock his door if he wants to.”
She heard departing footsteps, then the waning voice of Harry saying, “Security, hell, he doesn’t want anyone stealing his scotch.”
She grabbed the plugs from the safe and stuffed them into her purse. Then she closed the safe, spun the dial, and shut the cupboard.
She went to the office door, turned the key, and opened it.
Harry Lane was standing outside.
“Oh!” she said in shock.
He frowned accusingly. “What were you doing in there?”
“Oh, nothing,” she said feebly, and tried to walk around him.
He grabbed her arm in a firm grasp. “If it was nothing, why did you lock the door?” He squeezed her until it hurt.
That made her mad, and she stopped acting guilty. “Let go of my arm, you big brainless bear, or I’ll scratch your damn eyes out.”
Startled, he let go and stepped back; but he said, “I still want to know what you were up to in there.”
She was struck by inspiration. “I had to adjust my garter belt, and the ladies’ room was full, so I used Bill’s office in his absence. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”
“Oh.” Harry looked foolish. “No, I guess he wouldn’t.”
Elspeth softened her tone. “I know we have to be security-conscious, but there was no need to bruise my arm.”
“Yeah, sorry.”
She walked past him, breathing hard.
She re-entered her office. Luke was sitting where she had left him, looking grim. “I’m ready,” she said.
He stood up. “After you leave here, you’ll go straight to the motel,” he said.
He was sounding brisk and practical, but she could see by his face that he was suppressing powerful emotions. She just said, “Yes.”
“In the morning, you’ll drive to Miami and get on a plane out of the United States.”
“Yes.”
He nodded, satisfied. Together they went down the steps and out into the warm night. Luke walked her to her car. As she opened the door, he said, “I’ll take your security pass now.”
She opened her purse and suffered a moment of sheer panic. The plugs were right there, on top of a yellow silk makeup bag, glaringly visible. But Luke did not see them. He was looking away, too polite to peek into a lady’s purse. She took out her Cape Canaveral security pass and gave it to him, then closed her purse with a snap.
He pocketed the pass and said, “I’ll follow you to the gate in the jeep.”
She realized this was goodbye. She found herself unable to speak. She got into her car and slammed the door.
She swallowed her tears and drove off. The lights of Luke’s jeep came on and followed her. Passing the launch pad, she saw the gantry inching back on its railroad tracks, ready for takeoff. It left the huge white rocket standing alone in the floodlights, looking precarious, as if a careless nudge from a passer-by might topple it. She checked her watch. It was a minute before ten. She had forty-six minutes left.
She drove out of the base without stopping. The headlights of Luke’s jeep diminished in her rearview mirror and finally disappeared as she rounded a bend. “Goodbye, my love,” she said aloud, and she began to cry.
This time she could not control herself. As she drove down the coast road, she cried unrestrainedly, tears pouring down her face, her chest heaving with anguished sobs. The lights of other cars swept by in blurred streaks. She almost overshot the beach road. When she saw it, she jammed on her brakes and slewed across the highway in the path of the oncoming traffic. A taxicab braked hard and swerved, honking and skidding, and narrowly missed the tail of her Corvette. She bumped onto the uneven sand of the beach track and slowed to a halt, heart pounding. She had almost ruined everything.
She wiped her face on her sleeve and drove on, more slowly, to the beach.
>>><<<
After Elspeth left, Luke stayed at the gate in his jeep, waiting for Billie to arrive. He felt breathless and stunned, as if he had run full-tilt into a wall and was now lying on the ground trying to recover his senses. Elspeth had admitted everything. He had been sure, for the last twenty-four hours, that she was working for the Soviets, but nonetheless it was shocking to have his beliefs confirmed. Of course there were spies, everyone knew that, and Ethel and Julius Rosenberg had both died in the electric chair for espionage, but reading about such things in the newspapers was nothing. He had been married to a spy for four years. He could hardly take it in.
Billie arrived at 10:15 in a taxicab. Luke signed her in with security, then they got in the jeep and headed for the blockhouse. “Elspeth has gone,” Luke said.
“I think I saw her,” Billie replied. “Is she in a white Corvette?”
“Yes, that’s her.”
“My cab nearly hit her car. She pulled across the road right in front of us. I saw her face in the headlights. We missed her by about an inch.”
Luke frowned. “Why did she pull in front of you?”
“She was turning off the road.”
“She told me she’d go straight back to the Starlite.”
Billie shook her head. “No, she was heading for the beach.”
“The beach?”
“She went down one of those little tracks between the dunes.”
“Shit,” said Luke, and he turned the jeep around.
>>><<<
Elspeth drove slowly along the beach, staring at the groups of people who had gathered for the launch. Wherever she saw children or women, her eye moved on quickly. But there were many all-male groups of rocket buffs, standing around their cars in shirtsleeves with binoculars and cameras, smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee or beer. She stared hard at their vehicles, looking for a four-year-old Mercury Monterey. Anthony had told her it was green, but there was not enough light to see colors.
She started at the crowded end of the beach, nearest to the base, but
Anthony and Theo were not there, and she guessed they had chosen a more isolated spot. Terrified of missing them, she worked her way gradually south.
At last she saw a tall man in old-fashioned suspenders leaning against a light-colored car and looking through binoculars toward the glow of the Cape Canaveral lights. She stopped the car and jumped out. “Anthony!” she said.
He lowered the binoculars and she saw that it was not him. “I’m sorry,” she said. She drove on.
She checked her watch. It was 10:30. She was almost out of time. She had the plugs, everything was ready, she just had to find two men on a beach.
The cars thinned out until they were a hundred yards or so apart. Elspeth picked up speed. She drove close to a car that looked right, but it seemed to be empty. She accelerated again—then it honked.
She slowed down and looked back. A man had got out of the car and was waving at her. It was Anthony.“Thank God!” she said. She reversed back to him and leaped out of the car. “I’ve got the duplicate plugs,” she said.
Theo got out of the other car and opened its trunk. “Give them to me,” he said. “Quickly, for God’s sake.”