Topaz - Leon Uris [86]
It is further revealed to us by our same source that a member, or members, of Topaz are among your personal entourage.
I urge you to send a team of experts to the United States to study all the information we have gathered and to interrogate our prime source of discovery.
We understand that the Topaz network is capable of supplying Soviet KGB with secret NATO documents and trust you will employ all deliberate action in joining with us to ferret out and destroy this operation.
With kindest personal regards,
The President affixed his signature to the letter and handed it to Marshall McKittrick, who folded it and placed it in his breast pocket.
“I’ll seal it after Devereaux has read it,” McKittrick said.
The President nodded. “I’ll be calling the French Ambassador in later today,” he said. “You’ll be on the way to Paris tomorrow.”
“Right,” McKittrick answered.
“Lord,” the President said, “I hope La Croix doesn’t take this for another trick.”
15
AS THE NIP OF autumn fell on Washington, an outward calm and normalcy blanketed the explosive inner struggle.
Doves and Hawks swept in and out of the West Wing of the White House in the uninterrupted flow of the hourless days. With the evidence of Soviet missiles in Cuba proved beyond doubt, the crisis heightened.
The Hawks and Doves debated their points of view; the consultants and appraisers and evaluators and advisers and gatherers of information consulted, appraised, evaluated, advised, and briefed.
And then the moment of awesome decision fell upon a single man, the President.
On a wet day late in October, Ambassador of France René d’Arcy received a request to come to the White House. He was passed through the bulwark of security men and receptionists and was led directly to the President’s office.
The President greeted d’Arcy with warmth, coming from behind his desk and taking him to the comfortable arrangement of chairs and sofas near the fireplace. During the moment of small talk, Marshall McKittrick joined them.
“For the last several months,” the President said to the Ambassador, “we have suspected and now have gathered irrefutable evidence of the introduction of Soviet intermediate-range missiles into Cuba. You are no doubt aware of this situation through the work of André Devereaux and French Intelligence.”
“Yes, I am aware,” d’Arcy said, hoping the President would not detect his cigar as Havana.
McKittrick gave a detailed briefing of the sites, range, and estimations of Soviet strength now footed in the hemisphere. When he finished his dissertation, the President continued. “We have examined the situation from every possible angle. A decision has been reached. I have notified the British Ambassador, and within thirty-six hours we will have advised all our NATO Allies and then I will inform the American public.”
D’Arcy felt fright, for the man before him could well be announcing a war.
“The most favorable course of action in my opinion will be a naval quarantine of Cuba for the present.”
“Do you mean a blockade, Mr. President?”
“A quarantine ... not a blockade of peaceful cargo, but to stop, search, and prevent further introduction of offensive weapons.”
Perhaps it was the most temperate method, but nonetheless the fuse would be lit, and unless men became reasonable quickly, a hostile confrontation at sea or an air strike at a Cuban missile site could lead to the shaking of fists, an invasion of Cuba, and a prelude to a world holocaust.
D’Arcy knew that General La Croix would fume in anger at the unilateral action of the Americans, for they were dictating life-and-death policy without consulting their allies.
“What do you expect of France?” he asked.
“To look on our situation with sympathy, respect the quarantine, and share our point of view that we are in danger.”
And drag France into a war against her will, d’Arcy thought without putting it into words.