Robert Ludlum – Rhinemann Exchange

ambitions. I’m sure arrangements can be made.’

‘I was sure you’d be sure.’

‘Shall we discuss figures?’

Again David laughed softly. ‘Payment from you is like … before last

night. Only half the story. Make your half generous. in Switzerland. The

second half will be paid in the States. A lifetime of very generous

retainers.’ David suddenly spoke tersely. ‘I want names.’

‘I don’t understand.

‘Think about it. The men behind this operation. The Americans. Those are

the names I want. Not an accountant, not a confused brigadier. The others.

. . . Without those names there’s no deal. No codes.’

‘The man from Lisbon is remarkably without conscience,’ said Rhinemann with

a touch of respect. ‘You are … as you Americans say … quite a rotten

fellow.’

‘I’ve watched the masters in action. I thought about it…. Why not?’

Rhinemann obviously had not listened to David’s reply. His tone was

abruptly suspicious. ‘If this … gain of personal wealth is the conclusion

you arrived at, why did you do what you did last night? I must tell you

that the damage is not irreparable, but why did you?’

‘For the simplest of reasons. I hadn’t thought about it last night. I

hadn’t arrived at this conclusion … last night.’ God knew, that was the

truth, thought David.

‘Yes. I think I understand,’ said the financier. ‘A very human reaction. .

. .’

‘I want the rest of these designs,’ broke in Spaulding. ‘And you want the

codes sent out. To stay on schedule, we have thirty-six hours, give or take

two or three. I’ll call you at six o’clock. Be ready to move.’

David hung up. He took a deep breath and realized he was perspiring . . .

and the small concrete house was cool. The breezes from the fields were

coming through the windows, billowing the curtains. He looked at Lyons, who

sat watching him in a straight-backed wicker chair.

‘How’d I do?’he asked.

387

Thephysicist swallowed and spoke, and it occurred to Spaulding that either

he was getting used to Lyons’s strained voice or Lyons’s speech was

improving.

‘Very … convincing. Except for the … sweat on your face and the

expression … in your eyes.’ Lyons smiled; then followed it instantly with

a question he took seriously. ‘Is there a chance … for the remaining

blueprints?’

David held a match to a cigarette. He inhaled the smoke, looked up at the

gently swaying curtains of an open window, then turned to the physicist. ‘I

think we’d better understand one another, doctor. I don’t give a goddamn

about those designs. Perhaps I should, but I don’t. And if the way to get

our hands on them is to risk that trawler reaching a U-boat, it’s out of

the question. As far as I’m concerned we’re bringing out threequarters more

than what we’ve got. And that’s too goddarnn much…. There’s only one

thing I want: the names… I’ve got the evidence; now I want the names.’

‘You want revenge,’ said Lyons softly.

‘Yesl . . . Jesusl Yes, I do!’ David crushed out his barely touched

cigarette, crossed to the open window and looked out at the fields. ‘I’m

sorry, I don’t mean to yell at you. Or maybe I should. You heard Feld; you

saw what I brought back from Ocho Calle. You know the whole putrid …

obscene thing.’

‘I know … the men who fly those planes. . are not responsible … I know

I believe that … Germany must lose this war.’

‘For Christ’s sake!’ roared David, whirling from the window. ‘You’ve seen!

You’ve got to understand!’

‘Are you saying … there’s no difference? I don’t believe that. … I

don’t think you believe it.’

‘I don’t know what I believe! … No. I do know. I know what I object to;

because it leaves no room for belief… And I know I want those names.’

‘You should have them…. Your questions are great … moral ones. I think

they will pain you … for years.’ Lyons was finding it difflicult to

sustain his words now. ‘I submit only … no matter what has happened …

that Asher Feld was right. This war must not be settled … it must be

won.’

Lyons stopped talking and rubbed his throat. David walked to a table where

Lyons kept a pitcher of water and poured a glass. He carried it over to the

spent physicist and handed it to him. It occurred to David, as he

acknowledged the gesture of thanks,

388

that it was strange…. Of all men, the emaciated recluse in front of him

would profit least from the outcome of the war. Or the shortening of it. Yet

Eugene Lyons had been touched by the commitment of Asher Feld. Perhaps, in

his pain, Lyons understood the simpler issues that his own anger had

distorted.

Asher Feld. The Alvea HoteL

‘Listen to me,’ said Spaulding. ‘If there’s a chance . . . and there may

be, we’ll try for the blueprints. There’s a trade-off possible; a dangerous

one … not for us, but for your friend, Asher Feld. We’ll see. No

promises. The names come first. … It’s a parallel route; until I get the

names, Rhinemann has to believe I want the designs as much as he wants the

diamonds. … We’ll sec.’

The weak, erratic bell of the country telephone spun out its feeble ring.

Spaulding picked it up.

‘It’s Ballard,’ said the voice anxiously.

‘Yes, BobbyT

‘I hope to Christ you’re clean, because there’s a lot of flak to the

contrary. I’m going on the assumption that a reasonable guy doesn’t

court-martial himself into a long prison term for a few dollars.’

‘A reasonable assumption. What is it? Did you get the informationT

‘First things first. And the first thing is that the Fleet Marine Force

wants you dead or alive; the condition is immaterial, and I think they’d

prefer you dead.’

‘They found Meehan and the driver. . .

‘You bet your ass they did! After they got rolled and stripped to their

skiwies by some wandering vagos. They’re mad as helll They threw out the

bullshit about not alerting the embassy that Fairfax wants you picked up.

Fairfax’s incidental; they want you. Assault, theft, etcetera.’

‘All right. That’s to be expected.’

‘Expected? Oh, you’re a pistol! I don’t suppose I have to tell you about

Granville. You got him burning up my dials! Washington’s preparing a

top-level scramble, so I’m chained to my desk till it comes in.’

‘Then he doesn’t know. They’re covering,’ said Spaulding, annoyed.

‘The hell he doesn’tt The hell they arel This radio silence; you walked

into a High Command defection I An Allied Central

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project straight from the War Department.’

‘I’ll bet it’s from the War Department. I can tell you which office.’

‘It’s true…. There’s a U-boat bringing in a couple of very important

Berliners. You’re out of order; it’s not your action. Granville will tell

you that.’

‘Horseshitl’ yelled. David. ‘Pure horseshitl Transparent horseshit! Ask any

network agent in Europe. You couldn’t get a Breffinwrke out of any German

port I No one knows that better than me I’

‘Interesting, ontologically speaking. Transparency isn’t a quality one

associates . . .’

‘No jokes! My humor’s strained!’ And then suddenly David realized he had no

cause to yell at the cryp. Ballard’s frame of reference was essentially the

same as it had been eighteen hours ago – with complications, perhaps, but

not of death and survival. Ballard did not know about the carnage at San

Tehno or the tools for Peenerntinde in Ocho Calle; and a Haganah that

reached into the most secret recesses of Military Intelligence. Nor would

he be told just now. ‘I’m sorry. I’ve got a lot on my mind.’

‘Sure, sure.’ Ballard replied as if he were used to other people’s tempers.

Another trait common to most cryptographers, David reflected. ‘Jean said

you were hurt; fell and cut yourself pretty badly. Did somebody pushT

‘It’s all right. The doctor was here. . . . Did you get the information? On

Ira Barden.’

‘Yeah. . . . I used straight G-2 in Washington. A dossier Teletype request

over your name. This Barden’s going to know about it.’

‘That’s O.K. What’s it sayT

‘The whole darrm thing?’

‘Whatever seems … unusual. Fairfax qualifications, probably.’

‘They don’t use the name Fairfax. Just high-priority classification….

He’s in the Reserves, not regular army. Family company’s in importing.

Spent a number of years in Europe and the Middle East; speaks five

languages. . . .’

‘And one of them’s Hebrew,’ interrupted David quietly.

‘That’s right. How did. . .? Never mind. He spent two years at the American

University in Beirut while his father represented the firm in the

Mediterranean areas. The company was very big in Middle East textiles.

Barden transferred to Harvard, then

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transferred again to a small college called Brandeis…. I don’t know it. He

majored in Near East studies, it says here. When he graduated he went into

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