The Doomsday Conspiracy

“Closer to home.”

“Yes.”

The Admiral said slowly, “You’ve certainly earned that. I don’t see why something like that can’t be arranged.”

Robert smiled in relief. “That’s very good of you, Admiral. I would certainly appreciate it.”

“Yes, I think we can definitely arrange that. Tell Susan for me that the problem is solved.”

Robert stood up, beaming. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

Admiral Whittaker waved a hand of dismissal. “You’re too valuable a piece of manpower for me to let anything happen to you. Now go home to your bride.”

When Robert told Susan the news, she was thrilled. She threw her arms around him. “Oh, darling, that’s wonderful.”

“I’m going to ask him for a couple of weeks off so we can take a trip somewhere. It will be a second honeymoon.”

“I’ve forgotten what a honeymoon is like,” Susan murmured. “Show me.”

Robert showed her.

Admiral Whittaker sent for Robert the following morning. “I just wanted you to know I’m making some arrangements about the matter we discussed yesterday.”

“Thank you, Admiral.” Now was the time to mention taking a leave. “Sir …”

Admiral Whittaker said, “Something has come up, Robert.” The Admiral began to pace. When he spoke, there was a note of deep concern in his voice. “I’ve just been informed that the CIA has been infiltrated. It seems that there has been a steady leak of Top Secret information. All they know about the spy is that his code name is ‘the Fox’. He’s in Argentina right now. They need someone outside the Agency to handle the operation. The Deputy Director of the CIA has asked for you. They would like you to track the man down and bring him back. I told them the decision is up to you. Do you want to undertake it?”

Robert hesitated. “I’m afraid I’ll have to pass on it, sir.”

“I respect your decision, Robert. You’ve been travelling constantly and have never turned down an assignment. I know it hasn’t been easy on your marriage.”

“I’d like to take on this job, sir. It’s just that …”

“You don’t have to say it, Robert. My opinion of your work and dedication will always remain the same. I just have one favour to ask of you.”

“What’s that, Admiral?”

“The Deputy Director of the CIA asked to meet with you, regardless of your decision. As a courtesy. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Of course not, sir.”

Early the next morning Robert drove to Langley for his meeting.

“Sit down, Commander,” the Deputy Director said after Robert entered the large corner office. “I’ve heard a lot about you. All good things, of course.”

“Thank you, sir.”

The Deputy Director was a man in his early sixties, reed thin with fine white hair and a small brush moustache that moved up and down as he drew on his pipe. A Yale graduate, he had joined the OSS during World War II and then moved into the CIA when it was formed after the conflict. He rose steadily up the ranks of the most powerful intelligence agency in the world.

“I want you to know, Commander, that I respect your decision.”

“I appreciate that.”

“There is one fact, however, that I feel I should bring to your attention.”

“What’s that, sir?”

“The President is personally involved in the operation to unmask the Fox.”

“I didn’t know that, sir.”

“He regards it – as I do, too – as one of the most important assignments this agency has had since its inception. I know of your situation at home, and I’m sure the President is sympathetic, too. He’s a real family man. But your not taking on this assignment might throw – how should I say it – a cloud on ONI and Admiral Whittaker.”

“The Admiral had nothing to do with my decision, sir,” Robert said.

“I understand that, Commander, but will the President understand that?”

The honeymoon will have to be postponed, Robert thought.

When Robert broke the news to Susan, he said gently, “This is my last overseas assignment. After this I’ll be home so much you’ll get sick of me.”

She smiled up at him. “There isn’t that much time in the world. We’re going to be together forever.”

The chase after the Fox was the most frustrating thing Robert had ever experienced. He picked up his trail in Argentina, but missed his quarry by one day. The trail led to Tokyo and China and then Malaysia. Whoever the Fox was, he left just enough of a trail to lead to where he had been, but never to where he was.

The days turned into weeks and the weeks turned into months, and always Robert was just behind the Fox. He called Susan almost every day. In the beginning, it was, “I’ll be home in a few days, darling.” And then, “I might be home next week.” And then, finally, “I’m not sure when I’ll be back.” In the end, Robert had to give up. He had been on the Fox’s trail for two and a half months, with no success.

When he returned to Susan, she seemed changed. A little cooler.

“I’m sorry, darling,” Robert apologized. “I had no idea it would take so long. It was just …”

“They’ll never let you go, will they, Robert?”

“What? Of course they will.”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so. I’ve taken a job at Washington Memorial Hospital.”