The Kremlin Letter by Noel; Behn Read Free Book Online Page A

Sturdevant’s operations chief all the way through. He was the tactical brain. Sturdevant was nothing.”
    â€œThen why all the reverence?”
    â€œBecause in war men need a cause—not a motto like ‘The War to End All Wars’ or ‘Vee for Victory’; that’s fine back home or in training camps, but when you’re on the line you need something more immediate than that—your own kind of personal hero or motto. At one time flags and standards used to be enough. Later bagpipers and buglers led the charge. Sometimes it’s a banner, sometimes it’s a shout. In this particular case what was needed was a man. The man was Sturdevant.”
    â€œDo you believe he killed himself?”
    â€œAre you asking if I believe he’s dead?”
    â€œNo. Do you think he committed suicide?”
    â€œThat’s what he’d like everyone to think. Only he didn’t even have backbone enough to do that by himself. He made the man you just met pull the trigger.”
    â€œWhat about the other stories—about the brutality?”
    â€œI told you he was a DG, a queer, everything else that went along with it. When he wasn’t plundering I suppose he was raping. He was more a dog with a hard-on than a man with a mission.”
    â€œIt sounds like you had a run-in with him.”
    â€œNot a chance. We each knew where the other lived. He kept his distance. I spent five years looking for an excuse to cut his liver out and he knew it. You seem mighty fascinated by him.”
    Rone was aware of this. He also knew he was wandering further from the answers he wanted.
    â€œWhat was the Pepper Pot after?”
    â€œI’ll tell you when the time comes.”
    â€œBut we’re going in where he left off, aren’t we?”
    â€œYou read the messages—draw your own conclusions.” Rone decided to press his luck. “Why was I picked?”
    â€œIt’s like I told you before, you were the back-up man for Uncle Raymond.”
    â€œBut why me? Why someone new? Why not one of your own men? Why not someone you’ve worked with before?”
    Ward popped a section of apple into his mouth. He chewed with slow deliberation. He answered before he had completely swallowed. “There aren’t that many of us left. We’re getting old, you know.”
    Rone’s fears began to rise. “But why me in particular? You apparently had the pick of anyone you wanted for a given job. I’m interested in why you decided on me. What were the aptitudes you were looking for? What was it I had?”
    Ward spit out several seeds. He broke into his familiar grin. “You’re afraid we’re going to stick you back on computers, aren’t you?”
    â€œAre you?”
    â€œNow I ask you, Nephew Charlie, do we look like the kinda guys that would have any use at all for them contraptions? No, you don’t have to worry about that. As to the rest, well, I don’t exactly know what an aptitude is, but you did have a few abilities we found kinda useful. I don’t want to go into all of them now, but among other things we kinda got the impression you could let someone else die in your place without giving a good goddam. Now that ain’t easy to come by!”
    After dinner, the two black suitcases were brought to the kitchen. Ward picked one up, placed it on the breakfast table, took out a key and opened it. When he swung back the top Rone could see that it was divided into three metal-topped sections. Ward opened the first. It was filled with files. He looked through them rapidly, stopped at one, pulled it out and threw it to Rone.
    â€œYou might find this interesting,” he said.
    Rone looked down at the manila envelope stamped “top secret”; there was a sticker on it with typed words: “Security Investigations and Clearance—CIC for ONI.” Below it he read, “Subject: Rone, Charles Evans.”
    If there was