Lavon was able to secure an economy-class seat on the 8:50 Air France flight to Heathrow and by eleven that night was making his way wearily up the walkway of the Highgate safe house. Stepping inside, he was greeted by the sight of the entire team engaged in a tumultuous celebration. He looked at Gabriel and asked, “Would someone like to tell me what’s going on?”

“Valves, pipes, vacuum pumps, bellows, autoclaves, feed and withdrawal systems, frequency converters, motor housings, molecular pumps, rotors, magnets.”

“He’s selling them centrifuges?”

“Not just centrifuges,” Gabriel said. “Saint Martin Landesmann is selling the Iranians everything they need to build their uranium enrichment plants.”

“And I thought I had a good day.”

“What have you got?”

“Nothing much.” Lavon held up the wax paper sheath. “Just Kurt Voss’s list of Zurich bank accounts.”

PART FOUR: UNVEILING

PART FOUR

UNVEILING

CHAPTER 56

56

THE PLAINS, VIRGINIA

The farm lay some fifty miles to the west of Washington, at the point where the first foothills of the Blue Ridge begin to sprout from the edge of the Shenandoah Valley. Residents of The Plains, a quaint hamlet located along the John Marshall Highway, believed the owner to be a powerful Washington lawyer with a great deal of money and many important friends in government, thus the black limousines and SUVs that were frequently seen roaring through town, sometimes at the oddest hours.

On a bitterly cold morning in mid-December, a dozen such vehicles were spotted in The Plains, far more than usual. All followed the same route—a left at the BP gas station and mini-mart, a right after the railroad tracks, then straight for a mile or so on County Road 601. Because it was a Friday and close to the Christmas holidays, it was assumed in The Plains that the farm was playing host to a weekend Washington retreat—the sort of gathering where lobbyists and politicians gather to swap money and favors, along with tips on how to improve one’s golf swing and love life. As it turned out, the rumors were no accident. They had been planted by a division of the Central Intelligence Agency, which owned and operated the farm through a front company.