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[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] asked. "Sweet agreement everywhere -- as it's always been." "Whatever hurt we've had," Herity said, "comes from our enduring devotion to the superstitions of the Church and it sapping the strength out of us for all these centuries." Father Michael sighed. "Joseph, I think your worst vice may be that you haven't it in you to be magnanimous." "It's God's own truth you've stumbled onto there," Herity said. "Magnanimity isn't the most celebrated Irish virtue, as some poor bastard is supposed to've said. I'll own to it, Michael Flannery, because I know we must hold to our hates. Where else do we find the strength to go on?" "Thank you, Joseph," Father Michael said. "There's hope for you yet and I'll continue my prayers." The priest turned on a heel and strode off down the road. John realized in that moment that something in the argument had completely restored Father Michael's faith. What had Herity said to accomplish that? John stared at the priest's receding back. So strongly he walked, so firm and assured. Herity, too, stared after Father Michael. "There y' go, Priest!" Herity called. "Running away." He looked at John. "See how he runs?" But the weakness in Herity's voice was an admission of defeat. He had tried his best to kill the priest's faith and he had failed. The boy ran after Father Michael. Catching up to the priest, he grasped the man's hand. "No hope for either of them," Herity said. "Well, come along, John. My friends have been watching us . . ." he gestured with the machine gun as two men came out of the woods ahead of Father Michael and the boy " . . . and here they are now." Herity reached across to John as they began walking and slipped the machine gun and its sling over John's head. "They might not understand. Will you be passing me the little five-shooter, as well?" John stared ahead as though in a dream, obeying Herity without really feeling Page 203 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html the pistol as he rid himself of it. One of the two men coming toward them was Kevin O'Donnell, still wearing the Aussie hat he'd worn that night on the pier at Kinsale. Romans corrupted the Gall and that produced the Englishman. They took to Roman ways like a hog to the trough. Roman tactics are direct: make your families hostage. They enlisted us in their armies because that was our alternative to starvation. They corrupted our religion with greed. They replaced cheap, easily understood law with law that's expensive and mostly impenetrable to common folk. Legalized robbery is what it's all about. -- Joseph Herity "They refused to confirm or deny whether they actually have O'Neill in custody?" Velcourt asked. Charlie Turkwood raised both hands, palms upward. There was a saturnine look in his dark eyes. His thick lips appeared poised on the edge of a smile. They were in the Lincoln sitting room of the White House, a room Velcourt had set up as his private study. He glanced at his wristwatch. "What time is it over there right now?" "About nine A.M., sir," Turkwood said. "Strange," Velcourt said. "How the hell did they find out that we have those dental charts and fingerprints?" Again, Turkwood produced that negative shrug of the hands. Velcourt was hungry and he knew this made him short-tempered. He struggled to control himself. "You know what I'm thinking, Charlie?" Turkwood nodded. The thing was obvious. "If they've broken the code on that plague," Velcourt said. "They could have us all by the balls," Turkwood said. An odd look of withdrawal came into Velcourt's eyes. He spoke in a musing tone: "Code." "What's that?" Turkwood asked. Velcourt leaned toward the speaker phone on his desk and depressed the key: "Get me Ruckerman. I want him in here as soon as you find him. And DA, too." The speaker burped a question. "Yes, I mean Asher!" Another question. "I don't give a damn where Ruckerman's gone! Send a car!" Turkwood stared at the President with a puzzled frown. "What're the odds that the Irish have rockets?" Velcourt asked. He leaned back in his chair. "The Pentagon thinks the odds are high, sir. They think the Continent's vulnerable, at least." "A new plague made in Ireland," Velcourt said. "That's what they're suggesting, sir." James Ryan Saddler, the science advisor, slipped into the study, saw Turkwood standing near the small desk, Velcourt seated in a comfortable swing chair behind it. "You're trying to find Ruckerman, Mister President?" Saddler asked. He cleared his throat. "Anything I can do?" "Don't you knock before coming in here?" Velcourt demanded. Saddler paled. "Amos was right outside, sir. He said . . ." "Okay, okay." Velcourt waved a placating hand. Again, he leaned to the speaker phone. "Amos, prepare a message for my signature. It goes directly to the Irish government in Dublin -- no named recipient. It will point out the number of people we lost getting those fingerprints and dental charts out of the plague area. Repeat our demand to know whether they have someone in custody they suspect is O'Neill and, if so, demand to know why they suspect this. Tell them we want an immediate reply and say we are still considering whether to send them copies of the fingerprints and dental charts. Immediate Page 204 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html reply, got that? The consequences of a failure to reply will be left to their imaginations." The speaker said: "Yes, sir." Velcourt returned to his position leaning back in the chair, both hands clasped behind his head. "Is that wise, sir?" Turkwood asked. Velcourt did not respond. "What's going on?" Saddler asked. "There appears to've been a shakeup in the Irish power structure," Turk-wood said. "We think the military is still in the saddle but they've delegated authority to a split premiership -- equal power to the secretary of plague research, Fintan Doheny, and to the head of the Finn Sadal, Kevin O'Donnell." "What do our agents over there say about it?" Saddler asked. "We don't have one we can depend on." "Just when we need them the most," Velcourt said. "Why're we putting on the pressure, sir?" Turkwood asked. "Barrier Command's sure to ask. An immediate reply? I'll have to tell them something." "Tell them zilch. I'm talking to the Irish. They'll think we're up to something nasty, maybe looking for an excuse to nuke them. It'll throw them into a tizzy or it'll produce an exposure of their hand. If they have a real threat, they'll have to make that known to us." Saddler said: "Sir, I'm sure you know of the scenario that says we'll nuke anyone who admits they have O'Neill." "Let 'em worry. They can't do a fucking thing except answer and their answer will tell us a bundle." "What about the possibility O'Neill has set up a dead-man switch with another plague?" Turkwood asked. "The Russians and the Chinese say they're ready to risk it," Velcourt said. "That's what the Joint Chiefs and I discussed last night. We're inclined to agree." "But sir," Saddler said, "that could mean the Russians and Chinese have a cure!" Velcourt shook his head. "They can't manufacture an aspirin without our knowing about it." Turkwood looked at Saddler. "What about our query to the Biochemical Society?" "Their records were computerized and lost," Saddler said. "A few of the surviving members remember O'Neill, but . . ." He shrugged. "We have very few cards and we have to play them right," Velcourt said. "The big ones are those fingerprints and dental charts. We don't dare just give them away." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |