the word you. He nodded; she continued.
"You've got to get out of Paris, out of France! Go back to Washington."
"Take my word for it-better yet, take your own-I'm no less a target over there than I am here. Maybe an easier one."
"But three times they've tried to kill you in the space of two days!"
"Try thirty-five hours, I've been counting."
"You can't stay here, they know you."
"They know me better in Washington. I might even have a welcoming committee I'd rather not meet. Besides, Harry's going to call me and I've got to see him, talk to him. I have to."
"He's the reason you have the phone?"
"He and someone else. Someone in D.C. I trust-I have to trust.
My boss, in fact." A waiter arrived and De Vries ordered a Chardonnay. The aproned man nodded and was about to leave, when Latham held up the portable phone for him.
"Not yet," interrupted Karin, reaching over and touching Drew's outstretched arm. The waiter shrugged and left.
"Forgive me, but you may have overlooked a problem or two."
Chapter Eight
"That's entirely possible. As you've pointed out, I've been shot at three times in less than two days. Discounting strenuous field training, where they used dyed pellets, that's roughly one half of all the weapons fired at me in my entire career. What did I forget? I still remember my name. Ralph, isn't it?"
"Don't try to be funny."
"What the hell's left? For, your edification, my automatic is on my lap, and if my eyes stray now and then, it's because I'm prepared to use it."
"There are police all over the Gabriel; no terrorist would chance a kill under the circumstances."
"You're well versed in the language."
"I was married to a man who was both shot at and shot more times than he could remember."
"And I forgot. The Stasi. Sorry. What was your point?"
"Where is Harry calling you?"
"My office or the Meurice."
"I submit that it would be foolish for you to return to either,"
"You may have half a point."
"Grant me a full one. I'm right and you know it."
"Granted," said Latham reluctantly.
"There are crowds in the streets, a weapon could be inches from me and I'd never know it.
And if the CIA's been penetrated, the embassy's child's play. So?"
"Your superior in, Washington. How did you explain the attack in the Gabriel? What protection did he advise?"
"He didn't because I didn't tell him. It's one of those things you talk about later.. .. He's got a bigger problem, much bigger than any event I survived."
"Are you really so charitable, Monsieur Latham?" asked Karin.
"Not at all, Madame de Vries. Things are coming so fast, and the problem we both face so great, I didn't want his head overburdened."
"Can you tell me about this problem?"
"I'm afraid I can't."
"Why not?"
"Because you asked."
Karin de Vries leaned back against the banquette and raised the wine to her lips.
"You still don't trust me, do you?" she said softly.
"We're talking about my life, lady, and a spreading lethal fungus that scares the hell out of me. It should scare the hell out of the whole civilized world."
"You're speaking from a distance, Drew. I'm speaking from the immediate, 'close up' as you Americans say."
"It's war!" whispered Latham, the whisper guttural, his eyes on fire.
"Don't give me abstractions!"
"I gave you my husband in this war!" said Karin, bolting forward.
"What more do you want from me? What more for your trust?"
"Why do you want it so badly?"
"For the simplest reason of all, the one I explained to you last night. I watched a beautiful man destroyed by a hatred he could not control. It consumed him and for months, even years, I couldn't understand, and then I did. He was right! A putrid cloud of horror was rising over Germany, the East more than the West actually-'one evil monolith for another; they thirst for screeching leaders for they'll never change' was the way Freddie expressed it. And he was right!" Emotionally spent, her closed eyes forming tears, De Vries lowered her whisper.
"He was tortured and killed because he had found the truth," she finished in a monotone.
Found the truth. Drew studied the woman across the table, remembering how elated he had been when he had found the truth about Villier's father, old Jodelle. And then how frightened he was because it was the truth. The parallel lines of his and Karin's response, to revealed facts could not be falsified. They were beyond lying to themselves, certainly beyond concealing the anger each felt, for it was too genuine.
"Okay, okay," Latham said,