back. Lisbon had, as always, cleared the traffic to Washington quickly; the Secretary of State was on the line.
"This is State One," said the Secretary. "Your codes are cleared, Lisbon.
What is it?" "Mr. Secretary, within forty-eight hours you'll receive a manila envelope in the mail; the name Agate will be printed in the upper left comer-" "Agate? Beowulf Agate?" "Please, listen to me, sir. Have the envelope brought directly to you unopened. Inside there's a detailed report describing a series of events which have taken place-and are taking place right now-that amount to a conspiracy to assume control of the government-" "Conspiracy? Please be specific. Communist?" "I don't think so." "You must be specific, Mr. Scofield! You're a wanted man, and you're abusing the Lisbon connection! Self-seeking cries of alarm from you are not in your interest. Or in the interest of the country." "You'll find all the specifies you need in my report. Among them is proof-I repeat, proof, Mr. Secretarythat there's been a deception in the Senate that goes back twenty years. It's of such magnitude that I'm not at all sure the country can absorb the shock. It may not even be in its interest to expose it." "Explain yourself!" "The explanation's in the envelope. But not a recommendation; I haven't got any recommendations. That's your business. And the President's. Bring the information to him as soon as you get it." "I order you to report to me immediately!" "I'll come out in forty-eight hours, if I'm alive. When I do I want two things: vindication for me and asylum for a Soviet intelligence officer-if he's alive." "Scofield, where are you?" Bray hung up.
He waited ten minutes and placed his second call to Lisbon. Thirty-five minutes later the Chairman of the National Security Council was on the line.
"Mr. Chairman, within forty-eight hours you'll receive a manila envelope in the mail; the name Agate will be printed in the upper left comer...." It was exactly fourteen minutes past midnight when he completed the final call. Among the men he had reached were honorable men. Their voices would be heard by the President.
He had forty-eight hours. A lifetime.
It was time for a drink. Twice during the placement of calls he bad looked at the bottle of Scotch, close to rationalizing the necessity of calming his anxieties, but both times rejected the method. Under pressure, he was the coldest man he knew; he might not always feel that way, but it was the way he functioned. He deserved a drink now; it would be a fitting salute to the call he was about to make to Senator Joshua Appleton, IV, bom Julian Guiderone, son of the Shepherd Boy.
The telephone rang, the shock of its sound causing Bray
to grip the bottle in his hand, oblivious to the whisky he was pouring.
Liquor spilled over the glass onto the counter. It was impossible! There was no way the calls to Lisbon could be retraced so rapidly. The magnetic trunklines fluctuated hourly, insuring blind origins; the entire system would have to be shut down for a minimum of eight hours in order to trace a single call. Lisbon was an absolute; place a call through it and a man was safe, his location buried until it no longer mattered.
The phone rang again. Not to answer was not to know, the lack of knowledge infinitely more dangerous than any tracing. No matter what, he still had cards to play; or at least the conviction that those cards were playable. He would convey that. He lifted up the phone. "Yes?" "Room Two-twelve?" "What is it?" "The manager, sir. It's nothing really, but the outside operator has-quite naturally-kept our switchboard informed of your overseas telephone calls. We noticed that you've chosen not to use a credit card, but rather have billed the calls to your room. We thought you'd appreciate knowing that the charges are currently in excess of three hundred dollars." Scofield looked over at the depleted bottle of Scotch. Yankee skepticism would not change until the planet blew up; and then the New England bookkeepers would sue the universe.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
"Why don't you come up personally and I'll give you the money for the calls. It'll be in cash." "Oh, not necessary, not necessary at all, sir. Actually, I'm not at the hotel, rm at home." There was the slightest, slightly embarrassed pause.
"In Beverly. We'll just attach-" "Thank you for your concern," interrupted Bray, hanging up and heading back to the counter and the bottle of