Read Online The Apocalypse Watch by Robert Ludlum - Free Book Online

concealed. The destruction was overwhelming; nothing was as it had been. And in his exhaustion Latham simply did not want to think about it; he needed rest; he needed sleep. He briefly considered the waste and how illogical it was; confidential materials were kept in his office safe on the second floor of the embassy. Old Jodelle’s enemies—now
his
enemies—should have guessed that.
    He rummaged in one of his closets, sardonicallyamused to find an object that intruders would have taken or smashed had they recognized what it was. The twenty-six-inch steel bar had large rubber caps at either end, each cap holding an alarm mechanism. When he traveled and stayed in hotel rooms, he invariably braced it against the door and the floor, activating the alarms by twisting the caps. If whatever door he shoved it against was opened from the outside, a series of ear-shattering whistles went off that would shock the interloper into racing away. Drew carried it to the lockless door of his flat, activated the alarms, and, anchoring it to the floor, braced it against a lower panel. He walked into his destroyed bedroom, threw a sheet over the ripped mattress, removed his shoes, and lay down.
    Within minutes he was asleep, and within minutes after that his telephone rang. Disoriented, Latham lurched off the unbalanced surface of the bed, grabbing the phone from the bedside table. “Yes?… Hello?”
    “It’s Courtland, Drew. I’m sorry to call at this hour, but it’s necessary.”
    “What happened?”
    “The German ambassador—”
    “He
knew
about tonight?”
    “Nothing at all. Sorenson called him from Washington and apparently raised hell. Shortly thereafter Claude Moreau did the same.”
    “They’re pros. What’s going down?”
    “Ambassador Heinrich Kreitz will be here at nine o’clock this morning. Sorenson and Moreau want you here too. Not only to corroborate the reports, but obviously to protest vigorously the personal attack on you.”
    “Those two old veteran spooks are mounting a pincer assault, aren’t they?”
    “I haven’t the vaguest idea what you’re talking about.”
    “In the Second World War it was a German strategy. Close in on both sides, squeeze the enemy so he has to run north or south or east or west. If he chooses wrong, he’s finished, which he will be because the points are covered.”
    “I’m not military, Drew, but I really don’t think Kreitz is an enemy.”
    “No, he’s not. In fact, he’s a man with a historical conscience. But even he doesn’t know who’s in his ranks here in Paris. He’ll damn well stir up the waters, and that’s what Sorenson and Moreau want him to do.”
    “Sometimes I think you people speak a different language.”
    “Oh, we do, Mr. Ambassador. It’s called obfuscation in the interests of deniability. You might say it’s our lingua franca.”
    “You’re babbling.”
    “I’m dead tired.”
    “How long does it take you to get from your place to the embassy?”
    “First I have to go to the garage where I keep my car—”
    “You’re in a Deuxième vehicle now,” Courtland interrupted.
    “Sorry, I forgot.… Depending on the traffic, about fifteen minutes.”
    “It’s ten past six. I’ll have my secretary wake you at eight-thirty and I’ll see you at nine. Get some rest.”
    “Maybe I should tell you what happened—” It was too late, the ambassador had hung up the phone. It was just as well, thought Latham. Courtland would want details, prolonging the conversation. Drew crawled up on the bed, managing at the last to replace his telephone. The only good thing to come out of the night was the fact that he’d be spending a week, or however long it took to restore his flat, at a very fine hotel, and Washington would pick up the bill.
    The white glider swept down in the late afternoon cross-currents into the valley of the Brotherhood. Upon landing, it was immediately hauled under a covering of green screening. The Plexiglas canopies of both the