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Jake caught Toad's eye。 He moved his head ever…so…slightly from side to side。
Jake addressed Caplinger。 〃Mr。 Secretary； we have a problem。 We know you're the Minotaur and we have some ideas； probably erroneous； about the events of the last few months。 Four or five people have died violently。 Mr。 Tarkington's wife； Rita Moravia； is a navy test pilot who was seriously injured； almost killed； because various law enforcement agencies failed to properly investigate and make arrests on information they had had for some time。 To make a long story short； we came here to ask if you would like to discuss this matter with us before we go to the authorities and the press。 Do you？〃
〃Are you going to the press？〃
〃That depends。〃
〃You notice I didn't ask about the authorities。 That doesn't worry me； but for reasons…well。〃
Caplinger slapped his knees and stood suddenly。 Toad started。 〃Relax； son。 I only eat lieutenants at the office。 e on； let's make some coffee。〃 He led the way into the kitchen。
He filled a pot with water。 The pot went on the stove； after he lit the gas jet with a match。 He put a paper filter in a drip pot and ladled three spoonfuls of coffee in。 〃You two are entitled to an explanation。 Not legally； but morally。 I'm sorry about your wife； Lieutenant。 So was Luis Camacho。 We had too much at stake to move prematurely。〃 He shrugged。 〃Life is plicated。〃
Caplinger pulled a stool from under the counter and perched on it。
〃Three years ago； no； four； a KGB colonel defected to the United States。 It wasn't in the papers； so I won't tell you his name。 He thought he was brimming with useful information that we would be delighted to have in return for a ton of money and a new life in the West。 The money he got and the new identity he got。 But the information wasn't worth much。 He did； however； have one piece of information that he didn't think much of but we found most interesting。〃
Caplinger checked the water on the stove。
〃It seems that one day about three years before he defected he paid a visit to the Aquarium； the Moscow headquarters of the GRU； which is Soviet military intelligence。 His errand doesn't really matter。 During his two or three hours there he was taken into the office of a general who was not expecting pany。 On the desk was a sheet of paper with four names。 The colonel read the names upside down before the general covered the paper with a handy file。〃
The water began to rumble。 Caplinger checked the pot as he continued。 〃Under hypnosis the defector could remember three of the four names。 We recognized one of them。 V。 Y。 Tsybov。〃
The coffeepot began to whistle。 As he reached for it Caplinger said； 〃Vladimir Yakovich Tsybov was the real name of Luis Camacho。〃
He poured the hot water into the drip cone and watched the black fluid run out the bottom。 〃Luis Camacho was a Soviet mole； a deep illegal sent to this country when he was twenty years old。 He was half Russian and half Armenian； and with his olive skin and facial characteristics； he seemed a natural to play the rote of a Mexican…American。 He knew just a smattering of Spanish； but what the hey。 His forefathers； so said his bio； had been in this country since Texas became a state。
〃Tsybov； now Camacho； attended a university in Texas and graduated with honors。 He obtained a law degree at night while he worked days。 The FBI recruited him。
〃It's funny〃…Caplinger shook his head…〃that J。 Edgar Hoover's lily…white FBI needed a smart Mexican…American。 But at the time Hoover was casting suspicious eyes on the farm…labor movement in California； which was just being organized； and needed some Chicanes to use as undercover agents。 So Luis Camacho was investigated and approved and recruited。〃
Caplinger laughed。 〃Hoover； the paranoid anti…munist； recruited a deep Soviet plant！ Oh； they tried to check Camacho's past； and the reports to Washington certainly looked thorough。 But the agents in the field…all good； white Anglo Protestants with dark suits and short haircuts…couldn't get much cooperation from the Chicano population of Dallas and San Antonio。 So rather than admit failure to the Great One； they sort of filled in the gaps and sent the usual reports to Washington。 And the FBI got themselves a new agent。
〃How do you like your coffee？〃
Royce Caplinger got milk from the refrigerator and let Toad add some to his coffee。 They carried their cups back to the study。
〃Where was I？〃
〃Camacho was a deep plant。〃
〃Yes。 Anyway； being smart and petent； he rose as far as the racial politics of the FBI would allow； which really wasn't very far。 Still； amazingly enough； Luis Camacho liked America。 But that is another story。〃 Caplinger set his coffee beside him。 〃Maybe I should fill it in； though。 Luis was a very special human being。 Luis…〃
〃There were three other names on the list；〃 Toad said irritably。 His whole manner told what he thought of Caplinger's tale。
〃Ah yes；〃 Caplinger said； looking at the lieutenant thoughtfully。 〃Three more names； two of which the defector could remember； one which he could not。 The problem was we didn't know who any of the other three were。 Tsybov was Camacho； whom the Soviets thought was still a plant under deep cover； a sleeper； available for use if the need arose。 They didn't know that Camacho had revealed himself to us voluntarily almost ten years before。〃
Caplinger looked from face to face。 〃You see the problem。 The Soviets had three more agents in America planted deep。 And we didn't know who they were！
〃Naturally the intelligence coordinating mittee took this matter up。 What could be done？〃
〃So you became the Minotaur。〃 Jake Grafton made it a statement； not a question。
〃We needed bait； good bait。 We wanted those three deep agents。 Or two or one。 Whatever we could get。 Someone had to bee the Minotaur； so the President chose me。〃
〃The President？〃 Toad said； incredulously。
〃Of course。 Who better to choose what military secrets the Soviets would find interesting？ Who better to reveal the aces？〃 Caplinger sipped his coffee。
〃So you。。。〃 Jake began。 〃You wrote the letters and mailed them？〃
〃Yes。 The National Security Agency gave me the puter codes I needed and helped with the encryptions。 But I had to sit down and write each letter。 The human touch； you see。 Each letter would reveal something of the man who wrote it； so they all had to be written by one man。
〃Much to our dismay； the instrument the Soviets chose to exploit the gifts of the Minotaur was a traitor…for…hire who had already approached their embassy a year or so before。 Terry Franklin。 What Terry Franklin didn't know was that the National Security Agency has special programs that reveal when each selected classified document is accessed。 He wrote a trapdoor program that got him by the first security layer； but there was another that he didn't know about。 So we were immediately on to him。 And immediately faced with a dilemma。〃
〃If you arrested him too soon； the Soviets might just ignore the Minotaur。〃
〃Precisely； Captain。 For this to work； the information had to be very good stuff； the best。 And we had to give them enough so that they would bee addicted to it。 Then； and only then； would they feel the potent