The Minotaur Read Online Free PDF

surf, where the ice-cold water swirled about their
feet. “Toad Tarkington said to say hi.”
    “He called?”
    “Stopped by yesterday afternoon. He’s going to the Pentagon
too.”
    “Oh.”
    “If you teach summer school, we’ll see more of each other this
summer,” he said. “We’ll be together every evening at the apart-
ment in Washington as well as every weekend here.”
    Her hand gripped his fiercely and she turned to face him.
    He grinned. “Monday morning, off I go, wearing my uniform,
vacation over—“
    She hugged him and her lips made it impossible to continue to
speak. Her hair played across his cheeks as the ebbing surf tugged
at the sand under him.
    3
    At was almost 9 A.M. when the
subway train—the Metro—ground to a halt at the Pentagon sta-
tion. Jake Grafton joined the civilian and military personnel exit-
ing and followed the thin crowd along the platform. Rush hour for
about 23.000 people who worked in this sprawling five-story building
was long over. The little handful that Jake accompanied seemed to
be made up of stragglers and visiting civilians.
    Just ahead of Jake a man and a woman in casual clothes led two
small children. When they came to the long escalator, the kids
squealed joyfully and started to run up the moving stair. Each
parent grabbed a small arm, then a hand.
    The sloping staircase was poorly lighted. As he looked at the
dim lights, Jake noticed the plaster on the ceiling was peeling away
in spots.
    At the head of the escalator two corridors led in, one from either
side, and more people joined the procession, which trudged ever
upward on a long, wide staircase toward the lights above.
    At the head of the stair was a large hall, and the stream of
people broke up, some heading for the mam eotrance, some mov-
ing cautiously toward the visitors’ tour area. The couple that Jake
had followed led their progeny in that direction with an admoni-
tion to behave. Jake approached the two Department of Defense
policemen scrutinizing passes at the security booth. “I have an
appointment with Vice Admiral Henry.”
    “Do you have a building pass, sir?”
    “No.”
    “Use those phones right over there”—he pointed at telephones
by the tour windows—“and someone will come down to escort
you.”
    ‘Thanks.” Jake called and a yeoman answered. Five minutes,
the yeoman said.
    Jake stood and watched the people. Men and women wearing
the uniforms of all four services came and went, most walking
quickly, carrying briefcases, folders, gym bags and small brown
paper bags that must have contained their lunches. People leaving
the interior of the building walked by the security desk without a
glance from the two armed DOD policemen.
    “Captain Grafton?”
    A small black woman in civilian clothes stood at his elbow.
“Yes?” he said.
    “I’m your escort.” She smiled and flashed her pass at the guards
and motioned Jake toward the metal detector that stood to the left
of the security booth. He walked through it. nothing beeped, and
the woman led him through the open doors into another huge
hallway, this one lined with shops. Directly across from the en-
trance was a large gedunk—a store selling snacks, magazines and
other sundries.
    “I was expecting a yeoman.”
    “The phone started ringing and he sent me down.”
    As she led him along the corridor, he asked, “How long did it
take you to learn your way around in here?”
    “Oh, I’m still learning-I’ve only been here five years. It’s confus-
ing at times.”
    They went up a long ramp that opened onto the A-Ring, the
central corridor that overlooked the five-acre interior courtyard.
As they proceeded around the ring, Jake glanced through the win-
dows at the grass and huge trees and the snack bar in the center.
    “Have you ever been here before?” she asked.
    “Nope,” said Jake Grafton. “I’ve always managed to avoid it.”
    After she had gone what seemed like a hundred yards or so, she
turned right and ascended a