Delta Green - [58]

Portable work lights lit the underside of the craft, and Maslov was overseeing the lowering of the crates from the payload bay. He was quite protective of his craft for there were no replacement parts available if a clumsy mechanic damaged a cargo door or access hatch.

Druzhinin walked under the wing and stood next to him.

“Comrade General.”

“We are very happy to see you again, Aleksander. I had to place a call to Chairman Shelepin, for he has been quite anxious.”

“We are here, General, and complete.” Maslov waved a hand lazily at the crates. “Complete with sixty of the advanced missiles.”

“That is excellent! And what of those who delivered them to you?”

“No one will mention an inappropriate name. Ever”

“That is good,” Druzhinin said.

“However, events may have proceeded beyond that point, General. They were waiting for us.”

“They?”

“I assume the pilots of the 1st Aerospace Squadron, on which I was once briefed. A colonel named Kevin McKenna is the commander. The chief pilots are Franklin Dimatta and Wilbur Conover.”

Standing under the wing in the humid night, slapping at the growing population of mosquitoes seeking bare skin, Maslov briefed his superior on the mission, from the loading of the cargo to the ambush by the MakoSharks to his decision to await darkness in orbit.

“I don’t believe it will be long before they pinpoint this base, General.”

Druzhinin pointed westward, toward the hospital.

“And I don’t believe the ruse of the hospital will hold them back for long.”

Druzhinin nodded slowly. “You are suggesting, Aleksander Illiyich, that we move up the schedule?”

“The third phase must be accomplished immediately if we are to protect this base, Comrade General. As well as protect the objectives of the Party.”

“I suspect that you are correct. I will speak to the Chairman.”

“As soon as possible, I think. Where are the warheads?” Maslov asked.

Druzhinin evaded the exact answer. “I could have them here in a matter of days.”

“Or sooner,” Maslov suggested. “We have now lost the luxury of time.”

Chapter Eleven

USSC-1

All of the letters or comments in Amy Pearson’s personnel file were commendatory. The adjectives describing her in Officer Efficiency Reports were “superior,” “responsible,” and “outstanding” She couldn’t remember once having harsh words directed at her orally or in writing as a result of her action or inaction.

Until now. And I’m a full colonel in the United States Air Force, for God’s sake.

Worst of all, General Overton’s reprimand was fully justified.

She could not and would not shift the blame on McKenna. It was she who let her knees get watery and let her resolve melt when McKenna touched her or kissed her.

It was my weakness.

And others knew about it.

She felt entirely humiliated.

Pearson was busily composing new resolutions about the rest of her professional and social life when her office intercom sounded.

“Colonel Pearson?”

She pressed the keypad. “Yes, Donna.”

“Colonel Pearson, there is a Top Secret message coming in for you. It’s a long one.”

Donna Amber was being very formal, and Pearson could understand why. She wondered what Polly Tang had said to Amber and Macklin.

“Thank you, Donna. Please send it over on my data channel one.”

She selected the middle screen and called up the message which was directed to, “G-2, USSC-1.” It was a response to her query of MOSQUITO in Phnom Penh.

The CIA agent had been busy. He had identified a half-dozen Russians among an estimated thirty living in a compound of twenty-two residences in the northern part of the city. There was a listing of fourteen companies, businesses, shops, and restaurants in which the Russians appeared to have a proprietary interest.

Of the six people identified, none was using the name with which he was born. Sergei Pavel, who had been followed to the compound, was going by the name of Treml. And — there it was! — Anatoly Shelepin was using the name of Konstantin Paramanov.

The Russian émigré now named Paramanov was, in fact, well known in Phnom Penh as a benefactor. He appeared to be quite wealthy, and he had endowed a hospital for children as well as given freely to an orphanage, to an arts center, and to museums. MOSQUITO suspected he had also given freely to various levels of bureaucrats.

In response to her specific questions, the agent replied that, yes, the Russians had appeared in Phnom Penh shortly after the coup attempt in the Soviet Union, and no, the Russians did not appear to be involved in local politics. They stayed primarily to themselves or engaged in their various businesses. Paramanov/Shelepin travelled infrequently and apparently owned an old twin-engined aircraft.

While reading through the message, Pearson almost forgot about herself. And consciously, to keep her attention directed outward, she decided she needed action. Not the kind of action Lynn Haggar thrived on, but definitive motion in her own line of intelligence-gathering.

She needed to know more about Anatoly Shelepin and his friends.

And for that, she needed Overton’s permission to leave the station. Which made her think about her transgression once again.