The Doomsday Conspiracy by Sidney Sheldon

It was a night they would never forget.

Chapter Sixteen

How long is this assignment going to take? Robert wondered, as he strapped himself into his firstclass seat on the Swissair flight. As the plane rushed down the runway, its huge Rolls-Royce engines hungrily swallowing the night air, Robert relaxed and closed his eyes. Was it really just a few years ago that I took this same flight with Susan to London? No. It was more like a lifetime ago.

The plane touched down at Heathrow at 6:29 P.M., on schedule. Robert made his way out of the maze and took a taxi into the sprawling city. He passed a hundred familiar landmarks, and he could hear Susan’s voice commenting excitedly on them. In those golden days, it had never mattered where they were. It was simply enough that they were together. They brought their own happiness with them, their own special excitement in each other. Theirs was the marriage that would have a happy ending.

Almost.

Their problems had started innocently enough with an overseas call from Admiral Whittaker while Robert and Susan were traveling in Thailand. It had been six months since Robert had been discharged from the Navy, and he had not talked to the admiral in all that time. The call, reaching them at the Oriental Hotel in Bangkok, was a surprise.

“Robert? Admiral Whittaker.”

“Admiral! It’s good to hear your voice.”

“It hasn’t been easy tracking you down. What have you been up to?”

“Not very much. Just taking it easy. Having a long honeymoon.”

“How is Susan? It is Susan, isn’t it?”

“Yes. She’s fine, thank you.”

“How soon can you get back to Washington?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“It hasn’t been announced yet, but I’ve been given a new assignment, Robert. They’ve made me deputy director of 17th District Naval Intelligence. I’d like you to come aboard.”

Robert was taken aback. “Naval Intelligence? Admiral, I don’t know anything about—”

“You can learn. You would be doing an important service for your country, Robert. Will you come and discuss it with me?”

“Well—”

“Good. I’ll expect you in my office Monday at oh nine hundred. Say hello to Susan for me.”

Robert repeated the conversation to Susan.

“Naval Intelligence? That sounds so exciting.”

“Maybe,” Robert said doubtfully. “I have no idea what’s involved.”

“You must find out.”

He studied her for a moment. “You want me to take it, don’t you?”

She put her arms around him. “I want you to do whatever you want to do. I think you’re ready to go back to work. I’ve noticed in the last few weeks how restless you’ve become.”

“I think you’re trying to get rid of me,” Robert teased. “The honeymoon is over.”

Susan put her lips close to his. “Never. Did I ever tell you how crazy I am about you, sailor? Let me show you…”

Thinking about it later—too late—Robert decided that that was the beginning of the end of their marriage. The offer had seemed wonderful at the time, and he had gone back to Washington to meet with Admiral Whittaker.

“This job requires brains, courage, and initiative, Robert. You have all three. Our country has become a target for every little tinhorn dictatorship that can breed a terrorist group or build a chemical-weapons factory. A number of these countries are working on atomic bombs at this moment so that they can hold us at ransom. My job is to build an intelligence network to find out exactly what they’re up to and to try to stop them. I want you to help me.”

In the end, Robert had accepted the job with Naval Intelligence, and to his surprise, he found that he enjoyed it and had an aptitude for it. Susan found an attractive apartment in Rosslyn, Virginia, not far from where Robert worked, and busied herself furnishing it. Robert was sent to the Farm, the CIA training ground for Secret Service agents.

Located in a heavily guarded compound in the Virginia countryside, the Farm occupies twenty square miles, most of it covered in tall pine forest, with the central buildings in a ten-acre clearing two miles from the front gate. Dirt roads branch off through the woods, with locked swinging barricades, and No Entry signs posted. At a small airfield, unmarked aircraft arrive and depart several times a day. The Farm has a deceptively bucolic setting, with leafy trees, deer running in the fields, and small buildings innocently scattered around the extensive grounds. Inside the compound, however, it is a different world.

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