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Page 331
The atmospherics were as cold inside the van as they were outside, Morgan thought, glancing at Karmann. The Russian sat, eyes closed at times, staring out the steamy windows at others. He was ill; perhaps, Morgan thought, he had made a mistake by spiriting Karmann out of Bethesda in secret. But if the word had spread about Karmann's whereabouts, the man might be in great danger. Morgan had questioned the nurses, asking if anyone had been nosing around, anyone claiming to be either a friend or an official, but he'd been assured he was the first visitor. And no reporters had calledyet.
The Russian-American nurse in North Carolina had undoubtedly saved Karmann's life, given him a respite at least. The flight he and Morgan must take into the Northwest Territories was surely not what the navy doctors would prescribe for a return to some semblance of health. It might be the death of him. Yet Karmann was determined to repair the damage he had done. I don't find that decision so strange, Morgan thought. What I can't understand is why he made his original choice of action.
Morgan leaned his head wearily against the seat. My God, I'm tired, he thought. Karmann stirred, but did not speak. Morgan watched him speculatively. How deeply was he involved in the plot, how committed? Had he been promised great rewards if he cooperated, only to be betrayed, to see his shipmates slaughtered? The daily intelligence summary provided to Kellner had described the ongoing street disturbances and arrests in Moscow. All diplomatic meetings with members of the Cherny government had been canceled or postponed.
''What time is it?" Karmann's hoarse voice startled Morgan. It was the first time he had spoken since they left the safe house where he had spent the night under Morgan's guard. "Why do we go so slow?"
"It's just after seventeen hundred hours," Morgan said. On the third day of December, a date that now had some significance. A chill ran through him. Three and a half days left.

 
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