Christ’s sake,” Powell moaned.
“I assume you asked him if it’s a Soviet operation?” Sam interjected.
“I did and he said it wasn’t.”
Sam nodded slowly then continued. “Jack …” He scrunched up his face in an expression of pain. “I get the distinct feeling you’ve got something else to say. So why don’t we stop playing twenty questions and you can just spill it?”
“He said it was an intelligence operation.”
“He said that?” Sam frowned. “In those words?”
“Not exactly,” I said. They knew there was more, so I gave it to them. “He said it was being run from our side.” There was silence for a long moment, then Powell laughed contemptuously.
“That’s ridiculous!”
Sam leaned forward, cocked his head. “Do you realize what you’re saying, Jack?”
“I’m not saying anything,” I asserted. “He is.”
“You’re being taken for a ride.” Powell started gathering the photos and replacing them in the file.
“I’m just telling you what I was told.”
“Come on!” He was getting warmed up now. “The East Germans uncover a plot to kill the president and decide the one person in the world they need to tell is Jack Teller? Please!”
It was a good point.
“Any indication why he asked for you in particular?” Sam asked.
“None,” I admitted, realizing that I hadn’t even thought about that since the Colonel had sprung his story on me. It was puzzling, to say the least.
“Whatever the reason, you’re being played,” Powell asserted.
“It does look like you’re being romanced,” Sam added.
“What for?
“It’s usually because someone wants to screw you.” Sam turned to Powell. “Section 10.”
Powell gave a nod of agreement.
“What’s Section 10?” I asked.
“Disinformation,” Sam responded. then continued with Powell. “What do you think?”
Now it was Powell who didn’t want to talk in front of me. He looked at me sideways. “Don’t worry about him,” Sam said. “Tell me what you think.”
“Iceberg,” he replied reluctantly.
“That’s what I think, too.” Sam stood up, stretched his back. “Look into it.”
“Right.” Powell closed the Colonel’s file and tucked it into his briefcase. He stood up and turned to me. “How did you leave it with Becher?”
“I’m supposed to find out what I can and wait for him to get in touch,” I shrugged.
Powell curled his lip. “You seem to take directions from the Commies better than you do from your own side,” he said, very pleased with himself.
“If you’re on my side, Chief, then I do believe I’m fucked.”
“You’re fucked any way you look at it,” he smiled.
“Yeah, we’re all well and truly fucked,” Sam said wearily. “Aren’t we lucky?”
Powell spun around and headed for the door. I followed with Sam.
“What’s Iceberg?” I asked him.
“I’ll have a car take you back to the hotel, Jack. Get some rest and pack your things. We’ll have you on tomorrow’s flight to Miami.”
“What about the Colonel?” I asked.
He put his arm around my shoulder and said, “Don’t worry about him. We’ll take it from here.”
SEVEN
They could turn the whole thing over to Daffy Duck for all I cared—what the hell difference was it to me? The Colonel would evaporate, at least until it all blew over, but that didn’t matter if they were right about him working a disinformation campaign. It was all just bullshit, then, meant to scare us into keeping Kennedy in a low profile, away from large crowds where he could give rousing speeches that would make the old men in the Kremlin nervous. It was the kind of ridiculous operation that wasted everybody’s time, on both sides. I was happy to be out of it. That’s what I tried to tell myself, anyway. The truth was that I was hooked.
The Colonel didn’t strike me as a time waster, especially now that I knew a bit more about him. I’d been impressed by his bio. He’d joined the German Communist Party when the
“I assume you asked him if it’s a Soviet operation?” Sam interjected.
“I did and he said it wasn’t.”
Sam nodded slowly then continued. “Jack …” He scrunched up his face in an expression of pain. “I get the distinct feeling you’ve got something else to say. So why don’t we stop playing twenty questions and you can just spill it?”
“He said it was an intelligence operation.”
“He said that?” Sam frowned. “In those words?”
“Not exactly,” I said. They knew there was more, so I gave it to them. “He said it was being run from our side.” There was silence for a long moment, then Powell laughed contemptuously.
“That’s ridiculous!”
Sam leaned forward, cocked his head. “Do you realize what you’re saying, Jack?”
“I’m not saying anything,” I asserted. “He is.”
“You’re being taken for a ride.” Powell started gathering the photos and replacing them in the file.
“I’m just telling you what I was told.”
“Come on!” He was getting warmed up now. “The East Germans uncover a plot to kill the president and decide the one person in the world they need to tell is Jack Teller? Please!”
It was a good point.
“Any indication why he asked for you in particular?” Sam asked.
“None,” I admitted, realizing that I hadn’t even thought about that since the Colonel had sprung his story on me. It was puzzling, to say the least.
“Whatever the reason, you’re being played,” Powell asserted.
“It does look like you’re being romanced,” Sam added.
“What for?
“It’s usually because someone wants to screw you.” Sam turned to Powell. “Section 10.”
Powell gave a nod of agreement.
“What’s Section 10?” I asked.
“Disinformation,” Sam responded. then continued with Powell. “What do you think?”
Now it was Powell who didn’t want to talk in front of me. He looked at me sideways. “Don’t worry about him,” Sam said. “Tell me what you think.”
“Iceberg,” he replied reluctantly.
“That’s what I think, too.” Sam stood up, stretched his back. “Look into it.”
“Right.” Powell closed the Colonel’s file and tucked it into his briefcase. He stood up and turned to me. “How did you leave it with Becher?”
“I’m supposed to find out what I can and wait for him to get in touch,” I shrugged.
Powell curled his lip. “You seem to take directions from the Commies better than you do from your own side,” he said, very pleased with himself.
“If you’re on my side, Chief, then I do believe I’m fucked.”
“You’re fucked any way you look at it,” he smiled.
“Yeah, we’re all well and truly fucked,” Sam said wearily. “Aren’t we lucky?”
Powell spun around and headed for the door. I followed with Sam.
“What’s Iceberg?” I asked him.
“I’ll have a car take you back to the hotel, Jack. Get some rest and pack your things. We’ll have you on tomorrow’s flight to Miami.”
“What about the Colonel?” I asked.
He put his arm around my shoulder and said, “Don’t worry about him. We’ll take it from here.”
SEVEN
They could turn the whole thing over to Daffy Duck for all I cared—what the hell difference was it to me? The Colonel would evaporate, at least until it all blew over, but that didn’t matter if they were right about him working a disinformation campaign. It was all just bullshit, then, meant to scare us into keeping Kennedy in a low profile, away from large crowds where he could give rousing speeches that would make the old men in the Kremlin nervous. It was the kind of ridiculous operation that wasted everybody’s time, on both sides. I was happy to be out of it. That’s what I tried to tell myself, anyway. The truth was that I was hooked.
The Colonel didn’t strike me as a time waster, especially now that I knew a bit more about him. I’d been impressed by his bio. He’d joined the German Communist Party when the
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