The Road to Omaha (49 page)

“Go ahead,” said Jennifer icily.

“I started this enterprise nearly three years ago with a few thoughts in my head, none of them too damned clear because I’m a soldier, not a thinker, except where military strategy’s concerned. What I mean by that is I’m no intellectual, and I don’t waste a lot of time trying to analyze things like motive or morality or justification and all the rest of that stuff. If I did, I would have lost a hell of a lot more fine young men in combat than my record shows.… Surely I was looking for a magnificent score—I can’t think small—because that kind of challenge appeals to this
discarded
old soldier. Also, it had to be fun, and somebody who did or was doing something wrong should pick up the tab. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I never intended to hurt the
means
to the payoff, only those who found it
necessary to
pay
, namely those who did something wrong.”

“But you
are
hurting the ‘means,’ ” interrupted Jennifer angrily. “
Namely
, my people, and you damn well know it!”

“May I finish, please?… When I learned what had happened to the Wopotamis over a hundred years ago, it kinda reminded me of what had happened to me—and, with what I can piece together about Colonel Cyrus here—what happened to him.… We were all sacrificed by government big shots, who either had their hands in the
real
cookie jar or were furthering their own political ambitions, or who were just plain liars abusing the trust that had been placed in ’em! It doesn’t matter whether it was a century ago, a decade ago, three months ago, or yesterday. In the words of our mercenary friend here, it’s got to
stop
! We’ve got the best system of living together the world has ever known, but there’s always somebody trying to louse it up.”

“None of us is running in the angelic sweepstakes, Mac,” said Devereaux softly.

“Hell, no, Sam, but nobody elected us or appointed us and had us swear under oath to behave ourselves for the benefit of a couple of hundred million people we don’t know. Now if the colonel here is right, there’s somebody else way high up trying to stop a citizen—not just me, but a
citizen
—from carrying out his constitutional right to appear before the Court. There we go again!… And if our friend here who doesn’t like to be called ‘colonel’ is wrong, and I really am the Soldier of the Century—well, I couldn’t accept that grand award if I knew I walked away from finding out whether there
is
or there
isn’t
some big government cannon trying to stop that citizen who happens to be me.”

“Rather well done, General,” said Aaron, leaning back in the chair. “Actually, for a man unschooled in the law, quite remarkable.”

“What do you mean ‘unschooled,’ Mr. Pinkus?” objected Jennifer, in her tone perhaps a touch of jealousy. “He wrote the damned brief.”

“I submit he constructed it, my dear. Painstakingly adapting text book terms and phrases to suit his points. That’s translation, not creation.”

“And I submit,” said Sam, “a certain ego aside, this is irrelevant.” He turned to the Hawk. “But I’m puzzled by a few items you didn’t bring up, and if they don’t prove to you that somebody pretty damned important is trying to stop all of us, I don’t know what the hell will. May I remind you—”

“
Son
, I’m way ahead of you,” interrupted Hawkins quickly, firmly. “You’re referring to the previous assaults.”

“Right on, Mac. The two hotels, a Black Maria racing out to my house, and four armed-to-the-teeth military gorillas at the ski lodge. Who sent
them
? The tooth fairy?”

“We never would have found out, boy, take my word for it. You don’t know how these things are put together—with mirrors and smoke and so many blind relays it’d take longer than the Iran-contra thing to find out who’s where and what’s his function.
Hell
, Sam, I invented those procedures behind a half a hundred enemy lines. That’s why I did what I did and in each case sent back the message that they couldn’t
do
it!”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” said a bewildered Aaron.

“Neither do I,” added a perplexed Jennifer.

“Are you people lawyers or
shoe
clerks?” cried MacKenzie in exasperation. “If you’re in the middle of a life-or-death trial and you need information you know is there but nobody wants to give it to you, how do you get it?”

“Vigorous cross-examination,” replied Pinkus.

“With heavy emphasis on perjury,” added Redwing.

“Well, I suppose you’ve got your points, but we’re not operating in a courtroom. There’s another way—”

“You
provoke
it,” said Devereaux, interrupting, his eyes briefly, amusingly in contact with the Hawk’s. “You make an outrageous statement or a series of statements that elicit a hostile response that confirms the information.”

“
Goddamn
, Sam, I always said you were the best! Remember London, in Belgrave Square, where I told you how to handle that scumbag traitor—”

“We will
not
refer to your previous relationship, General!”
ordered Aaron. “We don’t care to hear a
thing
about it.”

“It’s also irrelevant,” said a defensive Jennifer.

“Oh,
I
see!” exclaimed Sam, grinning falsely at his Indian Aphrodite. “You can’t
stand
it when I come up with something you haven’t thought of!”

“
Irrelevant
!”

“When these two children stop squabbling,” said Pinkus, “will you please explain your strategy, General?”

“If the colonel here—
my
colonel—is right, the explanation’s sitting on a runway at Logan Airport.
Air Force Two
, Commander! Who sent it?… Unless, of course, I really am the Soldier of the Century, in which case we’re back in an invasion landing craft without a motor, drifting into a heavily fortified beach without maneuverable protection.”

“I won’t try to follow that, but—” Suddenly Aaron stopped, turning his head in several directions until he saw what was missing. It was the mercenary, Cyrus M, his bulk filling an antique chair by the elegant antique white desk, his mouth gaping, his wide dark eyes staring at them. “Oh, there you are, Colonel.”

“
What
?”

“Have you been listening?”

Cyrus nodded his large head and answered slowly, precisely. “Yes, I’ve been listening, Mr. Pinkus,” he began quietly, “and I’ve just heard the most extraordinary story since a few clowns claimed nuclear fusion could be accomplished in ice water for twelve cents a gallon.… You people are
nuts
! You’re crazy, insane,
certifiable
!… Is any of this
true
?”

“It’s all true, Cyrus,” said Devereaux.

“What the
hell
have I gotten
into
?” roared the giant black chemist. “Excuse my language, Miss Redwing. I’m trying to put it all into an equation and it’s not easy.”

“No apologies are necessary, Cyrus, and why don’t you call me Jenny? I’m a little put off by the ‘Miss’.”

“Voodoo,” said the mercenary, getting out of the chair, but conscience-stricken enough to look down and see if he had broken it. “If it’s true,” he continued, walking toward
the trio of attorneys and the manic ‘Soldier of the Century,’ whose intense expression obviously caused Cyrus extreme discomfort, “… if it
is
true, I don’t think there’s any alternative but to test out this Nobel committee. Hire your actor, Mr. Pinkus. We’re going onstage.”

Truce had descended on the beach house in Swampscott, Massachusetts, a fitting prelude to the battles ahead. Under the neutral guidance of Aaron Pinkus, a document was drawn up between General MacKenzie Hawkins, a.k.a. Thunder Head, current Chief of the Wopotamis, and Sunrise Jennifer Redwing, ad hoc spokeswoman for said American Indian tribe, wherein all powers of attorney were transferred to Ms. Redwing upon signatures and notarization. Samuel Lansing Devereaux, temporary attorney-of-record, consented to relinquish all duties following a joint appearance with the tribe’s permanent attorney, the aforementioned Ms. Redwing, before the Supreme Court of the United States, should such a joint appearance be required.

“I’m not sure I like the last part,” Jennifer declared.

“I don’t like it at all!” said Sam.

“Then I don’t sign.” The Hawk was adamant. “To change attorneys at the last minute could mean a glitch, a delay, and I’ve put too much blood, sweat, money, and tolerance into this enterprise to accept that. Besides, Miss Red, I’ve given you full control over all negotiations, so what
more
do you want?”

“What more?… No appearance at all, no brief, no Supreme Court.”

“Come now, my dear,” said Aaron. “It’s too late for that. Not only is the hearing on the Court’s calendar, but you could be losing a genuine opportunity for your people. Surely, with yourself in charge, that elevator to hell can be short-circuited.”

“Yes, of course,” agreed Jennifer. “If there really is serious consideration, a quick settlement with the Bureau of Indian Affairs, perhaps two or three million dollars, and life goes on, no waves. We could build four or five schools on the reservation and hire some fine teachers—”

“I
definitely
do not sign!” roared the Hawk.

“Why, General? Isn’t it enough to pay you off?”

“Pay me off? Who the hell said anything about paying me
anything
! I don’t need money—Sam and I have more than we can ever spend in Switzerland!”

“
Mac
, shut
up
!”

“… all legally obtained from the scum of the earth, who I can assure you will never sue us for it!”

“
Enough
, General!” Aaron Pinkus sprang—as best he could—to his feet. “There’ll be no further references, audible or written, to previous events of which we know nothing.”

“Fine by me, Commander, but I’ll still make my position clear. I haven’t spent three years of my life to settle for a few dollars any SAC supplier would give us out of petty cash.”

“
Us
?” exclaimed Jennifer. “I thought you didn’t want anything.”

“I’m not talking about me, I’m talking about the principle involved.”

“How do you spell that,” asked Redwing sarcastically. “As in the interest on your principal?”

“You know what I mean, little lady. You’re selling out the tribe—
my
tribe, incidentally.”

“What did you have in mind, Mac?” said Devereaux, knowing the futility of trying to change the Hawk’s mind—in principle.

“We’ll start at five hundred million, a nice round
figure—nothing but spit to the Pentagon—and a hell of a cheap buy-out.”

“Five
hundred
—” Jennifer’s bronzed face had grown darker as the blood rushed to her head. “You’re a
mad-man
!”

“You can always scale back your artillery, but you can’t bring it up if there’s none in reserve.… Yup, five hundred mega-big ones or I don’t sign. Maybe we should put that in there, Commander, like an addendum or whatever you call it.”

“That would be unwise, General,” said Pinkus, glancing at Sam. “If ever examined, it could be construed as a precondition bordering on collusion.”

“Then I want a separate paper,” said MacKenzie, frowning. “She’s not going to sell
my
people down the dark river of the evil spirits.”

“
Your
 … Oh, my God!” Jennifer sank down on the couch. “The dark river of the … oh,
shit
.”

“We elders strongly disapprove of such language from our squaws.”

“I’m
not
a … oh, forget it!… Five
hundred
—I can’t even
think
about it! We’ll be ruined, devastated, our land condemned and bought from us for nothing, taxpayers outraged, editorials in all the media denouncing us as ignorant savages and thieves—”

“Miss Redwing,” Aaron interrupted, his use of the title, her last name, and his stern voice causing Jenny to look questioningly at the renowned attorney who had become so friendly to her.

“Yes … Mr. Pinkus?”

“I shall prepare a memorandum of intent, stating quite clearly that you will, on a supreme best-efforts basis, initiate the negotiations—if and when such negotiations take place—according to the wishes of Chief Thunder Head, also known as General MacKenzie Hawkins. Do you accept this heavy responsibility?”

“
Hell
—” Jennifer was about to say
Hell, yes
! but the glint in Aaron’s eyes stopped her. “Very well, sir, no more off-color language. I know when I’ve been beaten by superior litigiousness. I’ll sign both documents.”

“That’s better, little lady,” said the Hawk, lighting a
frayed cigar by lifting his leg and pulling a safety match against the right thigh of his buckskins. “You’ll see, Miss Red, the responsibility of command doesn’t stop with a single victory. We go on and on and
on
, always looking after the fine troops who follow us!”

“That’s very encouraging, General,” said Jennifer, smiling sweetly.

“You’re both all hearts and smarts,” said Sam. “Especially you, Pocahontas.”