Siro by David Ignatius (classic novels to read .txt) 📗

to take the wiring diagram to your friend Mr. Trumbo in Athens. He’ll need help in getting the components in a hurry, so have him contact an old colleague of mine in Technical Services back home. I’ll make the necessary arrangements.” Stone wrote a name and telephone number on a piece of paper and handed it to Taylor.

“As for delivery,” continued Stone, “I’m afraid we can’t leave this to the uncertain devices of your Armenian friend. We’ll need to do it ourselves. My Transcaucasian geography isn’t the best, but I suspect the only sensible way to get it in is across the Iranian border, through Nakhichevan. So I suggest we engage the services of Mr. Ascari and his smuggling network one last time. They shouldn’t have any trouble with it. We’ll tell them it’s a new kind of VCR.”

“Okay, I guess,” said Anna. She hated the thought of any aspect of her venture falling into the hands of Ali Ascari, but she was in no position to argue.

“The pickup will be the most delicate part. Before your Armenian friend goes home, you’ll need to set a precise time and place for him to collect the shipment. I assume Ascari and his chums can suggest a delivery spot, but we have less than ten days to get all this set. So I would like Alan, when he’s in Athens, to meet Hoffman and Ascari and work out the details. Alan can send the information to me, and I will relay it, in turn, to you so you can tell the Armenian before he gets on his plane. Is that agreeable?”

Everyone nodded.

“I have one final request for you, Anna,” said Stone. “I want you to be very careful in Paris. The KGB may have your Armenian friend under surveillance. So I want you to change hotels when you get back. Call me directly, at home, with the telephone and telex numbers of your new hotel.”

“All right.”

“Several other precautions,” said Stone evenly. There was not a hint of deceit in his voice. “You should stay away from anyone in the Paris station, or anyone who might have any dealings with it. You should under no circumstances try to contact your old case officer in the London embassy. That would be insecure. I’d also like you to stop using your old credit cards and stop writing checks on the Rockville bank account. They leave too obvious a paper trail.”

“What will I use for money?”

“This,” said Stone. He walked over to his luggage and returned with a red vinyl travel bag that said “TWA.”

“What’s in it?” she asked.

“Fifty thousand dollars,” said Stone. He looked at his watch. It was after nine.

“You’d better get going, or you’ll miss your plane,” he said. Anna hoisted the flight bag over her shoulder and shook Stone’s hand.

Taylor, who had watched this exchange with a growing sense of unease, turned to Anna. “I’ll walk you down,” he said.

“That’s okay,” she answered. “I can manage by myself.” She shook Taylor’s hand, coldly, and walked out the door.

Taylor turned to Stone. “I ought to give her a hand with the bags,” he said.

“She can manage. You heard her. Stay a few minutes. I’d like to talk with you.”

“All right,” said Taylor.

“When you see Frank in Athens, tell him to send something extra with that last shipment to Armenia.”

“What should he add?”

“Explosives.”

“Christ! What the hell for? This Armenian doctor won’t know what to do with them.”

“They won’t be for the Armenian doctor. They’ll be for someone else. The British have some Armenian friends, if memory serves. They can help.”

“Do what?”

“I’m not sure yet. But it seems to me that if we’re going to do this Armenian business, we ought to do it right.”

Taylor nodded dumbly, but he was troubled. “Can I ask you something?” he said.

“Certainly.”

“Why did you agree to this silly idea of Anna’s?”

“Because she wanted to do it.”

“Come on. That’s bullshit.”

“I have my reasons.”

“What are they?”

“Cover.”

“Cover for what?”

“For all of us. In the worst case, if things really fall apart over the next several months, it may be quite useful to have an additional iron in the fire—another face of our operation that doesn’t look quite so menacing. Miss Barnes would make quite a compelling witness before a closed session of the Senate Intelligence Committee, if it ever came to that, God forbid. I can imagine her testimony—one world, satellite television, plucky Armenians. There wouldn’t be a dry eye in the house.”

“But she could get hurt.”

“She’s a big girl. As a matter of fact, she’s really been quite self-reliant lately. Almost headstrong. Perhaps you haven’t noticed the change because of your … personal interest in her.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“There is one more thing about Miss Barnes that makes me inclined to let her do what she wants.”

“What’s that?”

“I won’t call it disloyalty, but she simply doesn’t know when to accede to authority. I find that troublesome in any subordinate. But to be candid, I find it especially unattractive in a woman.”

Anna’s final meeting in Paris with Dr. Antoyan didn’t last long. She was staying in a small hotel in the suburbs now, out near the American Hospital in Neuilly. She had met with the Armenian once, when she first arrived back in town. Then she had waited for a message from Stone, with the necessary details, before seeing him again. She hadn’t heard from Taylor, but she neither expected to nor wanted to.

She met Aram at a suburban café near the outer edge of the Bois de Boulogne. The Armenian had shaved off his beard completely by now. His face looked thinner and more vulnerable without it. He was dressed in an ill-made gray suit, which hung from his body like a sack. He looked as if he were already halfway home.

Anna carefully explained the procedures for delivering the equipment. In early November, it would be transported over the Iranian border into Nakhichevan, an Azerbaijani enclave bordering Armenia, and from there to a small village at the southeastern edge of Armenia. The