The Road to Omaha (17 page)

“Nice quarters, Commander Pinkus,
very
nice, indeed,” announced MacKenzie Hawkins, striding out of a bedroom in the hotel suite to which the conference had repaired. The former general’s gray gabardine suit had been replaced by his Indian buckskins and his beaded Wopotami jacket—without, however, his tribal headdress. “It’s obvious you’re high-strategy staff.”

“I keep the place for business purposes and also because Shirley likes the address,” said Aaron absently, his concentration on the voluminous pages scattered over the desk in front of him, his eyes behind his thick glasses wide with anticipation. “This is
incredible
!” he added quietly.

“Well, sir, having been with Winston at Chequers,” interjected the Hawk, “I wouldn’t go
that
far. I simply said it was very
nice
. The ceilings aren’t nearly so high, and the historical prints on the walls are definitely third-rate and actually clash with the decor, as well as with accuracy.”

“We in Boston do our best to introduce the tourists to our past, General,” mumbled Pinkus, his concentration on the papers uninterrupted. “Accuracy has little to do with environmental authenticity.”

“Dante crossing the river—”

“Try Boston Harbor,” broke in Aaron, turning over a page. “Where did you
get
this?” he suddenly cried, taking off his glasses and staring at MacKenzie. “What extraordinary scholar of both law and history put it all together? Who’s responsible?”

“
Him
,” replied the Hawk, pointing at the shell-shocked Devereaux, sitting on the couch ten feet away. He was squashed between his two guards, Stosh and Knute, his arms and legs free to move but not his mouth, which was bound with three-inch-wide adhesive tape. Of course, General Hawkins had insisted that Sam’s lips be layered with Vaseline so as not to violate the Geneva accords for prisoners of war. In truth, no one could stand listening to Devereaux’s diatribes any longer, including the general’s aides-de-camp, Desi-One and Desi-Two, who stood behind the couch, their postures erect and their arms militarily akimbo.

“
Samuel
did this?” asked Aaron Pinkus in disbelief.

“Well, not actually himself, but he certainly was the spirit behind it, so you could say that in a very real sense he’s responsible.”

“
Mmmfff
!” came the muted but still howling protest from the couch as Devereaux lunged forward, tripping over his feet and landing facedown on the floor. Grimacing in fury at the Hawk, he scrambled up as the general gave his command.

“
Adjutants
, assault positions!” As a trained commando unit, Desis One and Two leaped over the couch, the former using the rim of the sofa, the latter the head of Knute to vault over the couch and instantly close the distance between themselves and Sam. Pinning him back on the floor, they looked up at the Hawk for instructions.

“Well done, gentlemen.”

“No wonder you recruited from your own personnel, General,” said Pinkus admiringly, standing up behind the desk. “Are they Rangers?”

“In a manner of speaking,” replied MacKenzie. “They’re specialists in airport security.… Let him up, men. Put him in the chair in front of the desk and flank him.”

“You two,” said Aaron, looking over at Sam’s bewildered Boston guards and speaking gently but not without a mild rebuke. “I don’t mean to criticize, yet it appears to me that you might benefit from some of this military instruction, as it obviously pertains to your work. These soldiers are inordinately quick to perceive the necessity for action, and their nonviolent tactics—such as stripping you of your trousers—is most impressive.”

“Hey,
Comandante
!” offered D-Two, grinning widely. “You rip off a gringo and take his pants, he h’ain’t goin’ run into d’street yellin’ his head off,
h’okay
?”

“That’ll do, Corporal. Barracks humor doesn’t carry well with passive combatants.”

“
Beautifool
!” cried D-One.

“General,” said Pinkus, “if you think it’s feasible, I believe it’s time we now restrict this conference to you, Samuel, and me.”

“I quite agree, sir,” agreed the Hawk. “The sequestered discussions between us should be opened up to include the young fellow.”

“Perhaps you might consider tying him—loosely, to be sure—to the chair, as Mr. Lafferty—excuse me,
Sergeant
Lafferty did previously.”

“Then you must have dismissed the gunny when you talked to Sam.”

“The gunny?… Oh, yes, the gunnery sergeant—yes, I did.”

“No need for that, now. I’m here.… Adjutants, stand to! You’re dismissed for mess call.”

“Hey,
loco
man, we’re real pretty.”

“
Grub
, Corporal. Get some food in your bellies and report back here in one hour.” MacKenzie reached into his buckskin pocket and withdrew his money clip, peeling off several bills and handing them to D-One. “I’m adding this to your per diem due to your outstanding efficiency.”

“Ee’s our
dinero
?” said D-Two, scowling at the money.

“Supplemental pay, Corporal. It’s in
addition
to your
dinero
, which will come later. Take the word of a general officer.”

“H’okay,
grande
Heneral,” responded D-One. “We take a lot, but when do you
give
?”

“Let’s have no hint of insubordination, young fella. Despite the fact that our close association on this mission permits a degree of camaraderie, others might not understand.”

“
Beautifool
! I don’t understand, neither.”

“Get something to eat and come back in an hour.
Dismissed
!” Desis One and Two shrugged and went to the door, the former checking the time on the three watches strapped to his left wrist as they let themselves out. The Hawk then nodded to Aaron Pinkus. “As my captive and, somewhat contrary to tradition, also my host, you may address your troops, Commander.”

“You’re what and I’m who?… Oh, yes, I understand.” Pinkus turned to the perplexed Stosh and Knute on the couch. “Gentlemen,” he began hesitantly, searching for the appropriate words, “you are relieved of your current duties, and if you would be so kind as to come to our office tomorrow—at your convenience, of course—you will be reimbursed by our accounts department, naturally including the rest of the evening.”

“
I’d
put ’em in the
stockade
!” shouted the Hawk, shoving his cigar into his mouth. “They’re assholes! Dereliction, incompetence, and freezing under fire—damn near court-martial material.”

“We do things differently in civilian life, General. Dereliction and incompetence are necessary components in the lower ranks of the work force. Otherwise, their superiors, who are frequently less competent but speak better, could never justify their salaries.… Off you go, gentlemen, and I’m quite sincere in my suggestion that you seek the training so well inculcated in your counterparts on the general’s staff.” Stosh and Knute, their sad expressions conveying their genuinely hurt feelings, left quickly. “There, General,” said Aaron. “We’re alone.”

“
Mmmfff
!” cried Devereaux.

“I included you, Samuel. As much as I might prefer to overlook you, it’s not very easy to do so.”

“
Mmmgfff
?”

“Cut your whining, son,” ordered the Hawk. “As long as you don’t shout your goddamned head off, your hands are free and you can remove the security strip.… No
sweat, your mouth will still be there, I’m sincerely sorry to say.” Slowly at first, then in a burst of machismo, Sam yanked the tape off, yelped, then proceeded to purse his lips about in various contortions as if to make sure they were functional. “You look like a skinny piglet in heat,” added MacKenzie.

“
You
look like a cigar-store Indian who just escaped from a quarantined wigwam!” yelled Devereaux, leaping up from the chair. “What the hell are you supposed to be, Tonto with a
lobotomy
?… And what the hell do you mean—
I’m
responsible for whatever that crap is on Aaron’s desk? I haven’t seen you or heard from you in years, you low-life worm of worms!”

“You still have a tendency to get a mite excitable under pressure, don’t you, boy?”

“In his defense, General,” interrupted Pinkus, “in the courtroom he’s ice-cold, a veritable laid-back James Stewart, the stutter itself pure calculation.”

“In a
courtroom,
” exploded Sam, “I know what the hell I’m doing! When I’m around this subterranean son of a bitch, I
never
knew, because he either didn’t tell me, or the gung-ho maggot
lied
to me!”

“Wrong terminology, young fella. It’s called disinformation for your own protection—”

“It’s called
bullshit
, ensuring my own self-destruction! Now answer my question: Why am I responsible—no, wait a minute—
What
am I responsible for? How can I be responsible for whatever dumb thing you’ve done when we haven’t spoken to each other in years?”

“Again, in fairness,” Pinkus broke in, gently but firmly. “General Hawkins stated that you were responsible only in the sense that you were the spirit behind the project, said spiritual influence subject to the widest possible interpretation or misinterpretation thus limiting or conceivably eliminating any liability or even association with the endeavor.”

“Stop playing lawyer with this overgrown mutant, Aaron. The only law he knows makes jungle justice look like high tea in an English rose garden. He’s pure savage without one iota of redeeming morality!”

“You ought to have your blood pressure checked, son.”

“You ought to have your head checked into a taxidermy shop! Now what the hell have you
done
, and why
me
?”

“Please,” Pinkus intruded once again, shrugging apologetically at the Hawk, his brows now arched. “Permit me to attempt an explanation, General. As one attorney might to another, is that acceptable?”

“We of command know best how to handle our own personnel, sir,” replied MacKenzie. “Truthfully speaking, I cousined the hope that you might clear your flanks and march to my drummer in that direction. Frankly, it’s why I showed you the core of the operation—not the tactics or my rules of engagement, naturally, but the down-range objective, as it were. Such basic intelligence is rarely a secret between such men as ourselves.”

“Excellent initial strategy, General. I commend you.”

“
Commend
him?” shouted Devereaux. “What the hell is he doing, marching on
Rome
?”

“We did that, Sam,” said the Hawk quietly. “Remember, son?”

“That is
one
topic you will never refer to in my presence, General Hawkins,” insisted Aaron coldly.

“I figured you knew—”

“You think Samuel would tell me?”

“Hell, no. You could order him to a kamikaze squadron and he’d short out the spark plugs. No stomach.”

“Then how?”

“The Irish gunny described your covert surgical strike into Sam’s quarters. Gunnies usually try to impress command with their contributions.”

“So?”

“Well, you mentioned that the sergeant had tied the boy up and that told me you had dismissed the gunny before talking to Sam, which you admitted.”

“
And
?”

“Why tie him up unless he was hysterical like he is now? And why would such a cool officer of the court—a side of Sam I haven’t seen a whole hell of a lot of—be hysterical unless this incursion of yours produced something about him that he never wanted anyone, especially you, to know about?”

“Based on certain obvious premises, your deductive reasoning is acute.”

“That and the fact that when Sam slammed the phone down on me, he missed. I heard another voice over the line—one that didn’t have much more control than Sambo’s—and when we met in the parking lot, I knew it was you, Commander Pinkus. You yelled a fair amount yourself that afternoon. Especially about a certain operation of ours that concerned the Vatican.”

“So much for a priori deduction,” said Aaron, now shrugging in defeat.

“So much for
lizardshit
!” roared Devereaux. “I’m here! I exist! If you prick me, do I not bleed—”

“Hardly appropriate, Samuel.”

“What’s
inappropriate
? I’m listening to a couple of refugees from a Prussian time warp! My future, my career, my life itself—all are about to shatter into a thousand pieces of broken mirrors—”

“Very nice, son,” broke in the Hawk. “Like the imagery.”

“He stole it from a French playwright named Anouilh,” added the venerated Boston lawyer. “Samuel’s full of surprises, General.”

“Stop it!” screamed Devereaux. “I
demand
to be heard!”

“Hell, boy, they can hear you down in Washington, right to the Army G-Two data banks, where they keep all those intelligence files.”

“I have the right to remain silent,” mumbled Sam, barely audible and collapsing back into the chair, pouting.

“Then perhaps I may be allowed to break the silence, since you’ve restricted it to yourself?” asked Pinkus.

“
Mmmfff,
” came the tight-lipped reply.

“Thank you.… The point of your question, Samuel, focused on the material provided me by General Hawkins. Granted, there hasn’t been time to read it thoroughly, but from what I can glean with a fairly practiced eye that’s been perusing such documents for nearly fifty years, it’s incredible. Rarely have I ever read a more convincing brief. The legal historian who compiled this had the patience and imagination to perceive suspended or broken
lines of legislative debate knowing that somewhere there had to be buried additional records that formed contiguous data spelling out the missing pieces. If this all stands up, the conclusions would appear to be
indisputable
, supported by copies of the original, authentic papers! Where did your source ever
find
them, General?”

“It’s only rumor, of course,” answered the Hawk, frowning quizzically, “but I’ve heard that they could only have been unearthed from the sealed historical archives at the Bureau of Indian Affairs.”