The Road to Omaha (72 page)

“If that day comes, Aaron, the last male Boston Frazier will have to skip to Hackensack or Tierra del Fuego and assume another name. He’ll be a marked man!”

“That, too, I had not considered.”

“Protection,” said Cyrus, walking down the steps, “and extremely thorough protection can be purchased, Mr. Frazier.”

“Oh, forgive me, Cookson, this is … Colonel Cyrus, an expert in security.”

“Good Lord, forgive
me
, Colonel! Damned stupid of me at the door. I
do
apologize.”

“No offense. In this neighborhood, it’s a perfectly understandable mistake. However, I’m not really a colonel.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“What he
means
,” cried Sam, his eyes boring in on the mercenary, “is that he’s retired from the military. He’s not with any army—
the
army, that is.”

“Oh, I see,” said Frazier, turning back to a bewildered Cyrus. “Well, obviously, your expertise in security matters serves you well. Aaron only hires the finest. As a matter of fact, although it’s probably too minor for your time, I’ve an alarm system in my house that confuses the hell out of me. I keep setting it off.”

“The pinpoints either aren’t clean or they overlap in the circuitry,” said Cyrus offhandedly, frowning at Devereaux. “Call your alarm’s service department and tell them to check the point relays.”

“Really? Just like that?”

“It’s common in house systems,” replied the mercenary, trying to read Sam’s nodding expressions. “Even a momentary power shortage can louse up those firefly circuits.”

“I’m sure the colonel would be happy to take a look at it,
wouldn’t
you, Colonel?” said Devereaux, his nods now jackhammering behind Cookson Frazier’s head.

“When my work for Mr. Pinkus’s security concerns are over … certainly,” answered the hesitant soldier of fortune-chemist, definitely confused. “Perhaps sometime next week,” he concluded weakly.

“
Good
fellow!” exclaimed Frazier, slapping his hand on the arm of the chair, then suddenly reverting to his previous state of quandary. “I can’t get over my grandson. It’s positively
incredible
.”

“Why do I conjure up the image of a winking Crazie Frazie, his captain’s hat lopsided and drinking from a champagne bottle probably filled with seltzer?” said Sam. “But then I’ve never seen anyone drive a boat like that even in the movies.”

And then, as if evoked by the mention of motion pictures, the telephone rang, answered quickly by Colonel Cyrus, who was standing next to the antique white table. “Yes?” said the mercenary softly.

“We
roll
, soldier,” said the voice of MacKenzie Hawkins from New York. “We’ve scratched Plan A—it’s
too risky now—going with Plan B as we discussed an hour ago. Any news about Lieutenant Devereaux?”

“He’s here, General,” replied Cyrus quietly, cupping the phone as the others excitedly discussed Sam’s seagoing revels with Secret Agent Geoffrey Frazier. “He just arrived a few minutes ago and he’s a mess. Do you want to talk to him?”

“
Christ
, no! I know that phase he’s in; I call it Righteous Rabbit. What’s the damage?”

“None that we can tell; no one believed him. Apparently the tape was destroyed.”

“Thank Hannibal for favors, big and small, but I knew he’d show up; he never does that sort of thing right … Then you haven’t gone over either of the plans with him yet?”

“I haven’t gone over them with anybody; no time. Mr. Pinkus has been on the phone with the Boston police ever since the Coast Guard radioed that they’d spotted the boat Sam was on.”

“A boat? The
Coast Guard
?”

“We gather it was a hell of a chase and the sight of your lieutenant confirms it, wet clothes, one shoe, and all.”

“Switzerland again, goddamnit!”

“We gathered that, too, at least his girlfriend did. She’s all over him like he was Johnny-come-marching-home with one leg—probably because of his one shoe.”

“Good! Work on the filly when you explain the plan, Colonel. She’ll convince him if
you
convince her. I know that boy when he’s got the hots, all my wives told me.”

“I’m not following you, General.”

“It’s not important. Just remember, our enemies are desperate, and the only way they can short-circuit us is to stop us from getting into the Supreme Court.
That’s
where Sam can climb up on his pulpit and say whatever he wants to say, expose whomever he wants to expose, yell as loud as he likes. But
only
there, Colonel. He wouldn’t get to first base with anyone else in Dizzy City. They protect their turfs, and they’d blow him out of the Beltway if only because he makes too much noise.”

“Since I can personally vouch for that Washington reaction, it won’t be difficult to be convincing,” said Cyrus.
“But how come Plan B? I thought you and I agreed that
A
was perfectly feasible.”

“I don’t know who the inside contact is but my informant, the one I told you about—”

“The government honcho everyone thinks is dead,” interrupted the mercenary.

“That’s the one, and let me tell you, he’s out for blood. Speaking of which, he made it goddamned clear that we’re facing termination with extreme prejudice—and I mean
real
extreme, Colonel.”

“My
God
, they’d go that
far
?”

“They haven’t got a choice, soldier. Through mergers and megabuyouts, that whole crowd owns seventy percent of the defense industries and is so many billions in debt it would take World War Three to bail ’em out, if it lasted that long, which it wouldn’t.”

“How do you read the strategy, General?”

“I don’t have to read it, I know it! They’ve hired the scum of the earth to stop us: head-bashing gunslingers, union busters for hire, probably mercs like you looking for bucks.”

“It’s a free economy,” said Cyrus, now whispering as he glanced over at Aaron, Jenny, and Sam, who, in turn, were glancing over at him. “And there’s a lot of economics involved.… I can’t talk much longer. Did your supposedly deceased informant tell you when and how all those nasty people will get in place?”

“They’ll be everywhere! In the crowds, among the Court guards, even up into the outer chambers!”

“That’s a rough call, General.”

“Plan B creates the diversion we need, Colonel. Nobody’s happy about it, especially the Wopotamis, but it’s in place. They’re all ready to do their thing.”

“How’s that fruitcake Sutton taking all this?” asked Cyrus. “That son of a bitch isn’t my favorite person, but I’ll grant you he’s a hell of an actor.”

“What can I tell you? He says he’ll give the greatest performance of his life!”

“If he lives to read the reviews.… Over and out, General, see you in the morning.”

“What about our Desis and Roman Z?” broke in
Hawkins suddenly. “What with my Suicidal Six business, I hadn’t factored them into the scenario.”

“If you think I’m leaving them out, you should be cleaning latrines, General.”

“I like your response, Colonel!”

“Out.”

A shell-shocked R. Cookson Frazier returned to Louisburg Square in his limousine, and at the beachhouse a stunned sextet faced Cyrus, who stood in front of the white antique table. Jennifer Redwing sat between Aaron Pinkus and Sam Devereaux on the couch, while Desis One and Two stood behind them, flanking their new friend, Roman Z. All mouths were agape, all eyes riveted on the field-commissioned colonel.

“That’s the scenario, everybody,” said the imposing black mercenary, “and speaking as the liaison to the general, if any of you wish to back out, you may. However, I should tell you as someone who’s been exposed to a great many infiltration strategies that they don’t come much better than this. General Hawkins didn’t become a legend because of press releases—he’s the real thing and he’s damn good and I don’t say that lightly.”

“Hey, like Miss Erin say, he talk real good for a black brother, yeah, D-One?”

“Shaddup, D-Two.”

“Thank you for the gratulatory comment, Desi.”

“See wad I mean?”

“If I may,” said Aaron Pinkus, inching forward on the couch, “this highly complicated charade, as ingenious as it may be, strikes me as being—well, too complicated, too theatrical, as it were. Is it really necessary?”

“To answer your questions in generic terms, Mr. Pinkus, complicated theatrics are the best diversion.”

“We can understand that, Cyrus,” said Jennifer, her left hand gripping Devereaux’s right. “But, as Mr. Pinkus says, is it really
necessary
? I think Sam’s idea of simply getting off the plane and taking a taxi to the Supreme Court—no limousine, no calling attention to ourselves—would be quite sufficient.”

“Under normal circumstances it would be, but these are not normal circumstances. You have powerful and very capable enemies.
Very
capable, the kind your friend Sam wants to expel from the government, even at the risk of his life, as we all witnessed today.”

“He was wonderful!” cried Jennifer, pressing her lips into Devereaux’s left cheek. “Swimming all those miles in a storm—”

“It was nothing,” said Sam. “Only six or seven, maybe eight.… If I understand you, Cyrus, you’re saying this ‘diversion,’ as you call it, is necessary because these very capable enemies of ours intend to physically intercept us before we can get into the building, is that right?”

“Basically, yes.”

“Basically? What else is there?”

“With ramifications,” answered the mercenary curtly.

“I won’t pretend to understand that, but if we have reason to believe a threat exists, we can request police protection. Coupled with you fellas—if you guys are with us—what else could we possibly need?”

“An item or two I haven’t mentioned.”

“
What
?”

“Look, you three are the lawyers, I’m not, and Washington isn’t Boston, where Mr. Pinkus’s corned beef and cabbage have a positive effect on the police department. In D.C., when you request blue-coat protection, you’d better show justifiable cause. Hell, those jackets can’t handle what they’ve got.”

“And ‘justifiable cause’ would naturally entail naming names in the highest places,” broke in Jenny, “and even if we got another copy of the tape, we wouldn’t dare play it for evidence.”

“Why
not
?” exclaimed Devereaux furiously. “I’m damn sick and tired of pussyfooting around! Public trusts have been violated, laws broken—why the
hell
not?”

“The paws of the cat were created for a purpose, Sam,” said Pinkus.

“Oh, that’s all I
need
. My boss, the Punjabi prophet from the Himalayas! Would you mind coming off the mountain and explaining that, Aaron?”

“You’re upset, my darling—”

“Tell me something I don’t know!… Maybe it was ten miles and that storm was really closer to a hurricane—say force ninety-nine, or whatever they call it.”

“I’m trying to tell you,” said Pinkus, his voice calm, his electric eyes on Devereaux, “that a quiet approach to catch a quarry is usually more effective than setting off alarms.”

“I’ll put it another way,” added Cyrus. “No precinct in Washington—tape or no tape—is going to take on someone like the Secretary of State.”

“He’s in a
funny house
!”

“All the more reason for State to maintain an equilibrium,” said the mercenary-chemist. “Believe me, I know.”

“It’s all
corruption
!” roared Sam.

“Only a few,” insisted Jennifer. “The vast majority are overworked, underpaid, dedicated bureaucrats—bureaucrats in the best sense, men and women who try their best to sort out the problems of their myriad departments brought on by politicians waffling for votes. It ain’t easy, darling.”

Devereaux unclasped his hand from Redwing’s, brought it to his forehead, and leaned back on the couch. “All right,” he said wearily. “I’m the dumbest kid on the block. People do terrible things and everybody shuts up; accountability’s out the window!”

“Not true, Sam,” corrected Aaron. “You’d never build a case that way, I know you. You’d cover every escape route before you made either your initial presentation to a jury or whatever subsequent counterarguments. That’s why you’re the finest attorney in my firm—when you’re all together.”

“All right, all
right
. We’re clowns in a three-ring circus tomorrow!… What were the items you hadn’t mentioned, Cyrus?”

“Bulletproof jackets and steel helmets under your headgear,” replied the mercenary as if he had just enumerated the ingredients for chocolate chip cookies.

“
What
?”

“You heard me. We’re talking hardball now, Counselor. There are more billions—yes,
billions
—riding on your appearance tomorrow afternoon than you can conjure in your out-of-orbit imagination.”

“
¡Caramba
!” yelled Desi the Second. “Don’ he talk good!”

“
Shaddaup
! We could be
muerto
!”

“H’ye don’t care! Ees right!”

“So I agree wid chu, so
wad
? So we’re
loco
!”

“Iss in the Romany tarot cards, my frenz!” shouted Roman Z, twirling in place, his flowing blue sash over his orange shirt covering the withdrawal of his long-bladed knife. “The blade of the Romany will cut the throats of any who attack our holy cause—whatever it iss.”

“Hey, come on, Cyrus!” roared Devereaux. “Under these circumstances, I will
not
permit Jenny or Aaron to be any part of it!”

“You don’t speak for
me
!” cried the Aphrodite of Sam’s dreams.

“Nor me, young man!” said Pinkus, getting up from the couch. “You forget, I was on Omaha Beach. I may not have been significant, but I’ve still got the shrapnel as proof of my efforts. It was, indeed, a holy cause then, and there’s a distinct parallel here. When men deny by force the rights of others, the only result is tyranny. And I will not
tolerate
that for this country of ours!”

“
Ahchoo, ahchoo
, ahchoo!”