Snow Wolf Read Free Page B

stern, then he glanced at Vitali, before reading slowly through the
photocopies. Finally he sat down with a worried look.
    "Mr. Massey, those papers belong to
the CIA."
    "They belonged to my father. He
worked for the CIA."
    Donahue's voice was firm. "Mr.
Massey, we can argue that point all evening but the papers you hold are still
classified top secret. As such, they are government property."
    "It's been over forty years."
    "It makes no difference-that
classification still applies. Anything in those particular papers will never be
made public. The operation referred to in the file was a highly secret and
sensitive one. I can't possibly stress both those words enough. The original
papers, please ..."
    "I'll make a deal with you."
    "No deals, Massey, the papers,
please. Donahue demanded. I was determined not to be bulldozed. "I think
you'd better listen to me, Donahue. My father died over forty years ago. I
never knew where or when or how he really died. I want answers. And I want to
know exactly what this Operation Snow Wolf was he became involved in."
    "Out of the question, I'm
afraid."
    "I'm a journalist. I can have the
papers published, and have the article investigated, see if anyone who worked
for the CIA back then remembers something. You might be surprised what it turns
UP."
    Donahue paled again. "I can assure
you not a paper in the land will publish anything you may care to write on the
matter we're discussing. The CIA would not allow it. And your investigation
would lead absolutely nowhere."
    I stared back at him. "So much for
democracy. Then maybe I couldn't publish here," I said. "But there
are always newspapers abroad you can't control."
    Donahue went silent, his brow furrowed,
and I could see his mind was ticking over furiously.
    :"What do you want, Massey?"
    "The answer to those questions. I
want to know the truth. And I want to meet the people involved with my father
on that mission, whoever's still alive."
    "That's quite impossible. They're
all dead."
    "Hardly all of them. There must be
someone. One of those on the pad. Alex Stanski. Anna Khorev. Henri Lebel. lrena
Dezov. Whoever they were. I don't just want a report secondhand. You could tell
me anything you want. I want evidence. Flesh and blood evidence. Someone to
speak with who knew my father and knew the operation and knows how he really
died. And," I said firmly, "I want to know what happened to his
body."
    This time Donahue really did turn
terribly pale. "Your father was buried in Washington."
    "That's a damned lie and you know
it. Look at the copies, Donahue. There's a date written on the last page, 20
February 1953, in my father's handwriting. You people told me my father died in
Europe on that date. That's the date on his tombstone-20 February. Now I may be
dumb, but dead men don't write notes. The CIA said my father died abroad but he
was here in this house on that day. You know something? I don't think you even
buried my father. I don't think you had a body. That's why you people never let
me see it, that's why you gave me all that crap about him being in the water
too long. I was a kid, I wouldn't question not being allowed to see the body.
But I'm questioning it now. My father didn't commit suicide. He didn't drown
himself. He died on this Snow Wolf operation, didn't he?"
    Donahue gave a weak smile. "Mr.
Massey, I think you're being highly speculative, and really over the top
here."
    "Then let's not speculate any
longer. I went to see my lawyer. I'm having the body exhumed. And when that
coffin's opened, I don't think I'll find my father inside. And then I'll have
you and your superiors dragged into a public court to explain."
    Donahue didn't answer, just went a deep
red. He was either totally embarrassed or he wasn't used to being spoken to
like that. He looked briefly at Vitali for support, but Bob just sat there, in
some kind of shock, like he was dumb-assed or completely in fear of the man or
both.
    Finally, Donahue stood up, looking like
he