Майкл Ридпат - Launch Code

She was why there had not been a world war. She had to know.

‘OK,’ I said. ‘We were about four weeks into the patrol...’

She listened closely, hunched over her mug of coffee, hanging on my every word.

When I was done she was silent for a moment. ‘Wow,’ she said.

And then a tear ran down her cheek.

I stood up, moved on to the bed beside her, and put my arms around her shoulders. At first she was stiff, but then she sobbed and squeezed herself into my arms.

‘Why are you crying?’ I said.

‘I don’t know.’ Her face was buried so deeply in my chest I could barely hear her.

I waited. Eventually, she broke away. She sniffed and wiped her nose.

‘I found it really hard when we broke up. I missed you. So I decided to hate you, hate what you stand for. Hate you for being willing to blow up the world. And then you get the order to do it, and you do this.’

‘I killed Craig,’ I said.

‘I know. That must have been horrible. Despite what I’ve just said, he was a good guy. I don’t know why I’m crying. It should be for him. Poor Vicky. I saw her just before Christmas and she said he had died on patrol in a freak accident. She was really upset. I thought maybe that’s what you wanted to tell me.’

‘I bet she was upset.’ I took a deep breath. Would I have to face Vicky? Lie? I would rather not; in fact I would do anything in my power to avoid her.

‘Don’t tell her,’ I said. ‘Don’t tell anyone. Everything I’ve told you is top secret. I shouldn’t have told you.’

‘I’m glad you did.’

‘In particular, don’t tell Pat Greenwald.’

‘Did I tell you about Pat?’

‘No. the FBI did. Who is she?’

‘The FBI?’

‘Yes. Two goons came to see me in September just before we headed out to Scotland. Said that you were a peace activist — which I told them I knew already — and that you knew Pat Greenwald who had some contact with the KGB.’

‘The KGB? That’s ridiculous. And you’re telling me that the FBI has been spying on me?’

‘Looks like it.’

‘Jesus.’

‘So does this woman have anything to do with the KGB?’

‘No! Absolutely not. I met her at Seneca this summer. You know — the women’s peace camp upstate? We bonded.’

‘So she doesn’t talk to any Russians?’

‘She speaks to a couple of Soviet peace organizations,’ Donna admitted.

‘Controlled by the KGB?’

‘We’re not that stupid. We want peace, we don’t want the Soviets to win the Cold War.’

‘OK,’ I said. ‘But whoever she is, you won’t tell her any of this, will you? Because I could get into serious trouble. Rest-of-my-life in prison type trouble.’

‘No,’ said Donna. ‘I won’t tell her. I won’t tell anyone. I promise.’

‘Good.’ But I was nervous. Could I trust her? Should I have told her?

She sipped her coffee. ‘I was right, wasn’t I?’

‘About the risk of an accidental launch order? Yes, you were absolutely right. And it was only because you and I had had that argument in Mystic that I told Lars about it. And that’s why he tried to stop Commander Driscoll.’

‘Is he in trouble? Are you in trouble?’

‘Neither of us is. What we did is in breach of all kinds of Navy regulations, but, hey, the world didn’t end.’

Donna smiled. Laughed. Wiped her eyes. ‘I don’t know why this makes me so emotional. It must be worse for you.’

‘I can handle it,’ I said. ‘Lars is finding it difficult. He’s been drinking heavily ever since we got back Stateside. Two nights ago he was high on the base. That was really dumb. They don’t like sailors driving nuclear submarines high on drugs.’

‘I get that. What are you going to do?’ A cloud of wariness passed across her eyes. ‘You are not going out on patrol again, are you?’

‘I’m up before the Personal Reliability Program next week. They’ll tell me they can’t trust me to press the button next time, and they’ll be right. They’ll revoke my certification.’

‘So will you leave the Navy?’

‘I don’t know. In theory I could serve on fast-attack submarines, and you would be surprised how many desks there are with submarine officers sitting behind them. But yeah, I might leave the Navy.’ I looked into her clear blue eyes. ‘It kinda depends on you.’

‘Me?’

Her eyes softened as she understood. Very slowly she raised her face towards mine.

And then she kissed me.

May 1996, Cobham, England

Saturday mornings were crazy in the Guth household. Actually, I suspect that every morning was crazy, but I was at work Monday to Friday and on Sunday we shared kid duty.

Saturday, it was just me. Donna stayed in bed, or sometimes went outside for a walk. Alone.

There were four kids by that stage. Maya was nine months old and crawling, Megan two and terrible. Brooke was five and Alice was six and my loyal assistant. Maya was angelic, of course, and Alice did a great job entertaining her. Megan and Brooke were more work.

We had been in England a couple of years. I had been transferred by my employer, a US defence communications company based in Virginia, to their European headquarters which was near Reading. We had rented a small house in Cobham, because it was close to the American school. At that stage, only Alice was attending the elementary school, but the idea was everyone would go there in time.

Donna had given up her legal career, at least temporarily, after Megan was born. Four kids under seven is a lot to manage.

The doorbell rang. It was two clean-cut American men — one white, one black — dressed in white shirts, ties and suits. On a Saturday morning. I wasn’t surprised when they showed me FBI ID.

I was surprised when they said they wanted to speak with Donna and me together.

That took a few minutes to sort out, but Donna got dressed and came downstairs, and the four girls were successfully installed in front of the Saturday morning cartoons in the living room.

‘You’re a bit far from home, aren’t you?’ I asked. I had had some dealings with American intelligence since moving to England, but that had been the CIA, not the FBI. The FBI classically dealt with domestic US crimes.

Like spying.

‘We would like to ask both of you about a woman named Patricia Greenwald,’ the black taller one began. He had introduced himself as Agent Watkins. The other one was Agent Macdonald.

Yes. Like spying.

Donna frowned. I knew she wouldn’t like that subject. ‘Aren’t you done with all that? The Cold War is over, peace has broken out. Or haven’t you heard?’

‘Thankfully that’s true. But the end of the Cold War has brought some interesting new facts to light. KGB and Stasi files in Moscow and East Berlin.’

‘Hey. You spent the whole of the eighties claiming that the Russians were funding the peace movement and it was all bullshit. You knew it was all bullshit, and now we know. So why don’t you give up? It’s yesterday’s news.’

Agent Watkins smiled politely. ‘You are correct we got that wrong. The KGB and the GRU were trying to fund the peace movement, but the peace activists managed to avoid taking their money. Mostly.’

‘Mostly? Are you saying that Pat Greenwald took Russian money?’

‘We think that Pat Greenwald may have been an agent for the KGB.’

‘That’s absurd!’ said Donna.

‘It may be. But that’s what we are investigating. And that’s why we need to speak with you. Now, how did you know Pat Greenwald?’

Donna glanced at me in frustration.

‘Tell them, Donna,’ I said. ‘If she was a spy, we need to help them. And if she wasn’t, then maybe we can help them see that.’