balance.
"Take them to Mantua!" Levchenko shouted to the surprised guards, then yanked both pilots up by the front of their flight suits. "You bastards are going to beg me to let you die before I am finished with you."
CAMP DAVID
The late afternoon sun peeked through the trees as twilight settled over the vast presidential retreat. Two marine corps Sikorsky helicopters, a VH-3D and a VH-60, waited to fly the president and vice president back to Washington.
Alton Jarrett and Kirk Truesdell had agreed the first week of the new administration not to fly together on the same helicopter or aircraft. The risk of losing both the president and vice president in an accident was too great.
Secretary of defense Kerchner talked on a secure telephone as he perused a classified message. He looked up when the vice president walked into the communications room.
"The president is waiting, Bernie," Truesdell said, loosening hi s t ie.
"Yes, sir," Kerchner replied, folding the slip of paper, "be there in a second."
Truesdell gave Kerchner a thumbs-up gesture, then returned to the conference table. "Bernie's on his way," the vice president reported, then sat down in his seat.
"Thank you," Jarrett responded, turning to Parkinson. "General, what is the current status of our search effort?"
"Not a trace, Mister President," Parkinson answered, pausing while Kerchner entered the room and seated himself. Parkinson sipped a glass of water. "They haven't found a single piece of evidence to indicate that the B-2 crashed into the bay."
"General," Kerchner interrupted. "Excuse me, but I have some disturbing news, I'm afraid. That was Fred Adcock on the phone. The background check on the civilian crew member disclosed a link to the KGB."
"What!" Jarrett exclaimed, anger registering on his face. "How could the FBI determine that so quickly?"
Truesdell and Parkinson stared at the secretary in disbelief.
"Fred said--and I quote--," Kerchner looked down at his hastily written notes. "The civilian technician, identified as one Lawrence Maynard Simmons, has categorically been linked to Irina Rykhov, a known KGB agent."
"Jesus Christ," Truesdell said softly, shaking his head in frustration. "How did that information get by the security people?"
"Apparently," Kerchner continued, "from the information Fred has now, Simmons holds a top secret clearance and has worked on the B-2 project for the past three years. He graduated from Cal Poly with honors and is an electronic engineering specialist. The liaison with the KGB agent was nurtured approximately four to five months ago, so the security people had no reason to suspect anything abnormal." Kerchner penned lines through two notations.
"Go on," Jarrett prompted, sitting back in his seat.
"The West Coast bureau," Kerchner continued, placing his pen down, "sent agents to Simmons's workplace, home of record, and usual haunts--the places he is known to frequent." Kerchner looked over the top of his reading glasses at the president. "He had moved from his home into an apartment three months ago. His wife had filed for divorce and left him debt ridden and overextended on all his credit cards. She left town in his only car, taking their daughter with her."
The vice president shook his head. "How did he become associated with the Soviet agent?"
"Well," Kerchner responded, turning to the vice president, "Fred admitted that the bureau backed into the answer. Neighbors and acquaintances of Mrs. Simmons told our agents that she ran away with a boyfriend--a handsome, dark-haired man with a foreign accent."
"I think I have the picture," Jarrett said, glancing at Truesdell.
"One of the FBI agents," Kerchner continued, "remembered a similar situation that happened about a year ago in San Diego."
"Oh, yes," Truesdell said. "The navy submariner--Wilson--the one whose wife jilted him, and he disappeared with his lover and the Trident D-5 information."
"The same team," Kerchner replied. "The FBI agent suspected it