Read Online Jericho's Fall by Stephen L. Carter - Free Book Online
Authors: Stephen L. Carter
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“Now, Rebecca, let’s do the hard part. Flash back to fifteen years ago. He left the Agency and went to Princeton because he had to. He was being pushed out. He could call it a sabbatical, but it was intended all along to be permanent. That isn’t in his official bio, and it hasn’t shown up in any of the unofficial ones, either, but it’s a fact. Whatever is wrong in his head was going wrong that last year or eighteen months of his term as Director. Okay? Now. This is what happened. We didn’t tell anybody. How could we? Washington still remembers Angleton.”
Beck, as it happened, did not, but she was not about to break the spell.
“So, we kept it in-house,” Dak continued. “Some people went to see him. Maybe I was one of them. The delegation told him what had to happen. Told him why. Jericho was no fool. He left the Agency. Told the President it was time to give the academy a chance, at least for a while. He went to Princeton, the Institute for Advanced Study. He didn’t take his family with him. He left them down in Virginia. He fell in love with you. He left them, brought you up here. You remember those days.”
“Faintly,” Beck said, wiping her eyes. Still, she remained alert. Dak might be doing the talking, but she was the one under interrogation.
Philip Agadakos was not a man one could tease. At least, he was not a man who teased back. “I remember them, too. But for a different reason. You can’t imagine it, Rebecca. The storm he left behind. The Director of Central Intelligence seems to be losing his bearings. Then he takes up with—I’m sorry—with a sexy teenaged seductress. That’s what we thought. Once I met you, yes, you were very sweet, but, from Langley, it looked like a setup. As if our enemies, say, had wind of Jericho’s mental problems, and had put you in his path. You can imagine the panic. The former DCI, former SecDef, former everything, sleeping with a nineteen-year-old. Not just a fling. Leaving his wife. Buying a house so she could move in with him. What secrets was he whispering to you in bed? What was your motive? Who were you, really? You were under a microscope, Rebecca. Every second of your life was studied. And, I’m sorry to say, when the two of you were together—every time you were together—we were listening in. It wasn’t legal, and it wasn’t the behavior of gentlemen, but we had to know. I’m sorry, Rebecca. You asked.”
She would cry later, she decided. Cry, throw things, slit her wrists, whatever came to mind. Right now, however, at this crucial moment, she would be—well, what Jericho would have been. Rock solid. Even disdainful. She was close. Everything was about to pivot. She could feel it.
“That’s not all,” she said. When Dak waited, she fed him the next piece of the story. “You got down in the gutter, you listened to us in bed for a year and a half. Well, if you were listening, you heard Jericho tell me you were listening. Two, three times a day, he would remind me. First I thought he was playing games, then I decided he was nuts after all. But he wasn’t. You were listening. And if you listened, you know he didn’t betray any secrets. The only thing you heard in bed was Jericho telling me which way he wanted it tonight. So—that isn’t why you’re worried. There’s more.”
“You were always smart.”
“Tell me the rest.”
Again he looked down the road, then off at the woods, cut back the regulation fifty yards on every side. Nothing stirred in the cold mountain afternoon; or nothing to rouse an old spy’s suspicions.
“There isn’t any more,” Agadakos said after a moment. His smile was kind, and a little sad. “He’s an old man, Rebecca. He’s dying. He’s not sure what his life meant, so he wants to make sure his death means something.” He laughed. “And he sure has a lot of people paying attention, doesn’t he?”
Beck refused to be deflected. “But what is it? What does he want his death to mean? He’s
Beck, as it happened, did not, but she was not about to break the spell.
“So, we kept it in-house,” Dak continued. “Some people went to see him. Maybe I was one of them. The delegation told him what had to happen. Told him why. Jericho was no fool. He left the Agency. Told the President it was time to give the academy a chance, at least for a while. He went to Princeton, the Institute for Advanced Study. He didn’t take his family with him. He left them down in Virginia. He fell in love with you. He left them, brought you up here. You remember those days.”
“Faintly,” Beck said, wiping her eyes. Still, she remained alert. Dak might be doing the talking, but she was the one under interrogation.
Philip Agadakos was not a man one could tease. At least, he was not a man who teased back. “I remember them, too. But for a different reason. You can’t imagine it, Rebecca. The storm he left behind. The Director of Central Intelligence seems to be losing his bearings. Then he takes up with—I’m sorry—with a sexy teenaged seductress. That’s what we thought. Once I met you, yes, you were very sweet, but, from Langley, it looked like a setup. As if our enemies, say, had wind of Jericho’s mental problems, and had put you in his path. You can imagine the panic. The former DCI, former SecDef, former everything, sleeping with a nineteen-year-old. Not just a fling. Leaving his wife. Buying a house so she could move in with him. What secrets was he whispering to you in bed? What was your motive? Who were you, really? You were under a microscope, Rebecca. Every second of your life was studied. And, I’m sorry to say, when the two of you were together—every time you were together—we were listening in. It wasn’t legal, and it wasn’t the behavior of gentlemen, but we had to know. I’m sorry, Rebecca. You asked.”
She would cry later, she decided. Cry, throw things, slit her wrists, whatever came to mind. Right now, however, at this crucial moment, she would be—well, what Jericho would have been. Rock solid. Even disdainful. She was close. Everything was about to pivot. She could feel it.
“That’s not all,” she said. When Dak waited, she fed him the next piece of the story. “You got down in the gutter, you listened to us in bed for a year and a half. Well, if you were listening, you heard Jericho tell me you were listening. Two, three times a day, he would remind me. First I thought he was playing games, then I decided he was nuts after all. But he wasn’t. You were listening. And if you listened, you know he didn’t betray any secrets. The only thing you heard in bed was Jericho telling me which way he wanted it tonight. So—that isn’t why you’re worried. There’s more.”
“You were always smart.”
“Tell me the rest.”
Again he looked down the road, then off at the woods, cut back the regulation fifty yards on every side. Nothing stirred in the cold mountain afternoon; or nothing to rouse an old spy’s suspicions.
“There isn’t any more,” Agadakos said after a moment. His smile was kind, and a little sad. “He’s an old man, Rebecca. He’s dying. He’s not sure what his life meant, so he wants to make sure his death means something.” He laughed. “And he sure has a lot of people paying attention, doesn’t he?”
Beck refused to be deflected. “But what is it? What does he want his death to mean? He’s
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