The Hand of War

by Blake Banner

  I held her eye while she was talking and gently, discreetly tapped my ear with one finger until I saw realization dawn on her face. She shrugged and spread her hands.

  I said, “Of course you are right. But we need to examine both sides of the argument. That is probably their purpose in asking us to come up with these proposals, but what if we don’t? What happens if we don’t?”

  She looked at the cold fireplace. “They’ll kill Philip.”

  “Amongst other things. It will be confirmed that the man who killed him was in fact Captain Lacklan Walker, posing as Special Agent Harrison Mclean, whom he attempted to murder along with his partner, Special Agent Daren Jones. And every tiny piece of advantage that we gained today by exposing the bomb plot will be lost, because we will lose our only allies, the press and the cop on the beat.”

  “So what do you propose?”

  I discreetly tapped my ear again. “I don’t know, Marni. Give me a couple of hours to sleep. Then I’d like to see the news, see how the story is developing. Then…” I thought for a moment. “The Potomac is less than a mile to the west of here. There’s a nice walk through the woods. Let’s take that walk, relax a bit, and try and get a different perspective. What do you say?”

  She nodded. She had understood what I was saying. “Sure, that makes sense.” She came over and knelt by my side. The kiss she gave me was as natural as though we had been together for the last ten years. She stroked my face and said, “I’ll wake you in a couple of hours.”

  There were five bedrooms on the second floor, but only the master bedroom had been made up. It was ample, furnished in the same old-world style as the rest of the house, and had a large, bow window overlooking the garden. The others had the drapes drawn and the furniture covered in dustsheets. Clearly Ben, or his masters, whoever was pulling the strings in this deep game, wanted us to be a couple for some reason. I was too exhausted to think about it right then. I collapsed onto the huge bed, closed my eyes, and slipped quickly into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  When I awoke, the light outside the window had acquired a coppery hue, and the shadows had grown longer and deeper. It was not evening, but the afternoon was thinking about moving that way.

  I swung my legs off the bed and realized that my boots had been removed, and so had my jacket and my Sig. I smiled and made my way to the en suite where I stood for ten minutes under the hot jets of water, allowing some of my exhaustion and my confusion to be washed away.

  Finally, I dressed and made my way downstairs. I found Marni in the kitchen. It was the only room in the house that had made any concessions to the twenty-first century. It was big and roomy and had a huge fridge and a breakfast bar with stools. That was where Marni was sitting, drinking coffee and watching the news on a TV across the room.

  She looked at me as I came in, jerked her head at the screen, and said, “I’m not sure what to make of it.”

  I went and rested my ass on the table. Jeff Glor was reading the news. He was saying, “…this report live from the UN Headquarters in New York.”

  They cut to a guy I didn’t know, standing outside the gates of the UN building. Behind him, you could see police cars and unmarked vehicles in the plaza, but what was new was the two FBI vans and three Army National Guard trucks that were stationed there, and the soldiers in combat gear standing guard with assault rifles. The reporter was saying, “There is a sense of barely suppressed panic, Jeff. It’s as though the administration really does not know what part of this fiasco to deal with first. I am told the president is going to address the nation later this evening, but even that has not been confirmed, as far as I am aware.

  “What we know now is that there was, indeed, an armed, nuclear device smuggled in through the security gates at the entrance to the building, right under their noses. It was concealed in a wheelchair and it was taken to the General Assembly Hall. We also know that the timer was in fact set to detonate at noon, just as Dr. Marni Gilbert and Professor Gibbons were due to start their talk.

  “Critics of the government’s policy on the environment are clamoring for an explanation for how this could have happened. Some are even accusing the president of involvement in a plot to assassinate these two speakers who, it is understood, were going to make certain revelations about the role of multinational corporations and western governments in climate change and overpopulation. What those revelations were to be, Jeff, is not known precisely, but some are saying that they would have been damaging to the president and this administration, as well as previous ones.

  “However, perhaps the most important question that investigators here are asking is, how did a U.S.-made nuclear device fall into the hands of terrorists?”

  Glor’s voice interrupted him and the reporter pressed his ear piece into his ear to listen. “Is there any indication yet, Dave, as to exactly who these terrorists were? Has anybody claimed responsibility for the attempt?”

  “No, Jeff, some people are pointing to a small demonstration of Islamic fundamentalists who were chanting ‘Allahu Akbar’ at the security check a little earlier in the day. But the level of organization needed to set up an attack of this sort is huge, and sources within the FBI are also pointing to the fact that the chair was, apparently, brought into the building by three non-Muslims. Attempts are currently being made to trace those people.”

  Glor’s voice interrupted again, “And, finally, Dave, what more, if anything, do we know about Professor Gibbons’ murder?”

  “So far, Jeff, there is nothing new. There are unconfirmed reports that the man posing as Special Agent Mclean, the very man who apparently defused the atomic device, also gunned down Professor Gibbons before escaping. This of course raises all sort of questions, including, was Professor Gibbons himself responsible for the bomb? But so far, the FBI are playing their cards very close to their chest and have declined to comment.”

  “And, before you go, Dave, I see there is now a military presence at the UN.”

  “We don’t know exactly what their purpose is here, Jeff, they arrived about an hour ago and the entire complex seems now to be under military guard. Russian and Chinese delegates have quietly raised questions about jurisdiction, but so far it seems everybody is content to wait and see what the investigation unearths. The president is due to make a statement either tonight or tomorrow morning, so we hope to know more then.”

  They cut back to the studio and Glor addressed the camera. “Now, the markets have responded badly to…”

  I killed it and turned to face Marni. “Let’s take a walk and clear our heads. What do you say?”

  She sat staring at the black screen for a while, then looked at me like she had only just registered my words. She nodded. “Yeah, good idea. We have at least a couple of hours of daylight. Let’s go.”

  Across from the house, and running the length of Chain Bridge Road for almost a mile, was a stretch of wild wooded parkland. It was unfenced and untended, with a couple of foot paths that wound their way through the trees down to the river. We stepped out of the house, crossed the road, and entered the woodlands. As we went, I turned and looked back to see if anybody was following us, but we were alone, and pretty soon we were deep among the chaotic jumble of trees, fallen branches, creeping ivy, and wild ferns that is nature, when Man leaves her be. Dappled sun broke the shadows on the path ahead of us, above our heads wings battered the leaves sporadically among the canopy, and bursts of song seemed almost to sparkle against the clean blue of the sky.

  Marni shoved her hands in her jeans pockets and stared down at her boots as she walked, like she wanted to make sure she placed each step in just the right place. I knew from experience, you can’t do that and remain human. She said, “They know that we know the house is bugged.”

  I shrugged. “Of course. But they also assumed that we would come here to discuss our plans. They’re not really interested in what we discuss. They’re only interested in our final decision. To be honest, Marni, as far as they are concerned, they have hook
ed us and they are reeling us in.” She flashed a look at me like she was about to get mad. I shook my head. “There is nothing to be gained by kidding ourselves. That is where we are. As soon as they caught you, the game changed.”

  Her cheeks colored and she looked back at her boots. “Do I need to apologize?”

  I smiled. “No, you need to focus.”

  Voices came to us with that odd, dull amplification that sounds acquire in forests. A woman, a child shouting and laughing, and then a golden retriever streaking through the trees. A red sweatshirt chasing, calling. Three fleeting lives.

  I took a deep breath. “They will want your father’s research.”

  She nodded without looking at me. “I know. I have to choose, live with your death and Philip’s on my conscience, or hand over the research and give up the fight. It’s the choice your father faced, or the next stage of that choice.”

  We had come to a clearing. The retriever was sniffing furiously, seeking in the tall, wild grass around a large tree stump and a fallen trunk. The child’s voice called from the shadows among the undergrowth and the dog bolted after her. Marni approached the felled tree and stepped onto the stump. She smiled down at me. Her face was sad. “I’m the queen of the castle,” she said. She waited, looking into my eyes, but I had no answer. “I used to be a little girl, once.”

  “I remember, I was there. You were quite good at it.”

  “But you were never a little boy. You were always serious and earnest. Even when you were fighting off dragons to protect me, you did it with a tremendous commitment, for such a skinny little runt.”

  She burst out laughing. I had to laugh too, until I saw she was wiping tears from her eyes. She smiled and pulled a handkerchief from her pocket. “I’m sorry.” She blew her nose and managed to look both awful and beautiful at the same time. “It was what I loved so much about you. Even back then.”

  I held out my hand to her but she jumped down without taking it. As she moved away, I said, “Marni…”

  “I know. We haven’t got time for this now. I’m being stupid…”

  “Marni!” She turned to me. I moved to her and took her shoulders. She stared up at me. I cupped her small face in my hands, hands that had taken so many lives, hands I had felt ashamed to touch her with when she had come to me, all those years ago in London, when I had turned her away. Now I said what I had been unable to say then. “I love you.”

  She took my hands in hers and kissed them. Then gave a single, tragic laugh. “Now? Like this?”

  I sighed. “In case I don’t get another chance.” She took my arm in both of hers, rested her head on my shoulder and we walked on through the trees in silence for a while, listening to the crack of twigs under our feet, the shouts of the little girl growing more distant, and the chatter of the birds above in the growing dusk, as they prepared for the night.

  Eventually, we stood on the banks of the Potomac, looking down at the great, dark snake moving slow, steady, and irresistible toward the ocean, and she asked me, “So what do we tell them?”

  I stared at the great river for a long while. Then I gave a small shrug. “We tell them that we want Omega to gather the world leaders, and start a concerted initiative, a serious program through the UN, to halt climate change and humanely reduce the population of the Earth, over the next ten generations, to a number that the planet can sustain. We tell them we want them to invest the same kind of energy and commitment into that enterprise, that they would normally invest in making war.”

  She smiled up at me and made no effort to hide the irony in her face. “Seriously?”

  I nodded. “Seriously.”

  “They’ll laugh in your face.”

  “Maybe they will, but Ben has a point, Marni, and though I hate everything that he and Omega stand for, when he asked us to come up with a proposal, he had a point. We can’t only oppose. What are we fighting for?” I turned to face her. “We have been fighting to stop them. But if we stop them, then what? What do we put in their place? Have we got a better option?”

  She sat on the grass, on the banks of the river, and I sat next to her. She said, “How do you reduce the population of the world, without infringing people’s rights and liberties? How do you make seven and a half billion people agree?”

  I remembered Salman Awad’s words at Prince Awad’s party. I said, “You give them a common enemy, make them aware that they face a common threat.”

  After a while she shook her head. “That might work with ten people, a hundred, a thousand, maybe even a few million; but seven and a half billion people, from different nations, different cultures, with different faiths and religions…” She shook her head again and threw a small twig toward the river. The breeze caught it and carried it away. “You and I both know that is impossible.”

  I nodded. “I know. But that’s the fight, and we have to fight it.”

  “So that’s what we tell Ben?”

  I didn’t answer straight away. When I did, I said, “Did I ever tell you it was my mother who chose my name?”

  She frowned. “No.”

  “She was descended from Danish Vikings. She’s a tough cookie, hard as nails. The name means ‘Norse Raider’, a man from the fjords. She loved the philosophy of the Norsemen. She used to tell me, ‘You fight, Lacklan, and you keep fighting. You don’t give up, ever. One day you will die, and that will be the end of your story in this world. But when that time come, you must look back over your life and be able to say, I never gave up.’” I smiled. “You give up when you die, not before.”

  She gave her head a small sideways twist. “Wow…”

  I laughed. “Yeah, but there’s more.”

  “More? Really?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, after she had given me her talk, she would then lean toward me and fix me with her blue eyes. She would raise one, devastating eyebrow, and say, ‘But it’s not enough to fight and never give up, Lacklan. You have to win! Win or die!’”

  I stared at her sweet, beautiful face and said, “Repeat it with me, Marni, win or die.”

  “Win… Win or die.”

  Twenty One

  The car arrived the next day at five minutes before two. It was a black Cadillac and the driver was in uniform. He saluted and held the door for Marni. I climbed in the other side and we took off. We crossed the Chain Bridge and then followed the George Washington Parkway at a sedate pace along the banks of the Potomac, all the way to the Arlington Bridge. From there, we took Washington Boulevard and arrived at the Pentagon at just after two-twenty.

  We stopped at North Parking and our driver led us, as I had been led once before, to the Corridor 8 entrance. There we were met by a man in a suit with a wire in his ear, who had ‘Secret Service’ written all over him. He handed us a couple of badges, then led us through rings E, D, and C to Ring B. The way it works at the Pentagon, the closer you get to the center, the closer you get to absolute, temporal power.

  We stopped at Ring B, and there we rode the elevator up two floors to room 32. He knocked on the door before opening it and announcing, “Mr. Walker and Dr. Gilbert, sir.”

  He stood back, holding the door for us, and we stepped inside. There was the flag against one wall, and a portrait of the president. There were mahogany bookcases, and a nest of black leather chairs and a sofa around a coffee table. A large, oak desk stood by a window that overlooked an internal garden. I knew that having a view of that garden meant you were at the heart of power.

  Ben was sitting with his ass on the desk, watching us. There was another man standing at the window, in silhouette. He turned as we came in and the door closed behind us. It was former president Dick Hennessy. There was a moment of awkward silence. Ben broke it.

  “Hello, Marni, Lacklan. Come in. I’d like you to meet Beta, though you may be more comfortable calling him Mr. President, or sir.”

  I took three steps across the room and stood looking at the man. He watched me back, with cold, hard eyes. I said, “I can think of several things
to call you, Hennessy, but none of them is sir.”

  He didn’t answer, but Ben said, “Let’s not get off to a bad start, Lacklan. Take a seat. Marni…?”

  He gestured us toward the nest of chairs and the sofa. Marni sat. I ignored him and crossed the room to where he had his tray of drinks. I poured myself a whiskey and showed Marni the decanter. She shook her head. I turned and looked hard at Ben.

  “This is the second time I’ve seen you in this office, Ben. Whose office is it?”

  He was standing by the sofa, waiting for me to sit. He thought about my question for a moment, then shook his head. “No, Lacklan, you have had enough concessions. I have given you more than your fair share of latitude. Now it’s time for you to give me something. Join us, and I will make you privy to that kind of information. Now, will you please sit, so that we can begin?”

  I looked at Hennessy. He had his arms crossed and he was watching me with interest. I sipped my whiskey and shrugged. “What’s the matter, Beta, you’re not going to sit down and join us?”

  He didn’t answer, but after a moment he walked slowly over and took a chair. Before he sat, he drawled in his strong, Texan accent, “You are one confrontational son of a bitch, aren’t you, Lacklan?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, will you do me the courtesy of sitting with me and discussing a few issues?”

  I smiled on the right side of my face. “Sure.” I sat. “What issues?”

  He and Ben sat too. Hennessy was pensive for a moment. “It kind of irks me, Lacklan, I have to tell you, that I know you are going to take what I’m going to say next, with cynicism, and you will dismiss it. But I’m going to say it nonetheless, because it is the truth.” He paused and, oddly, seemed to study Marni’s face. “Bob Walker—your father, Lacklan, was my closest friend. I loved him like a brother. More than a brother. He was a comrade.”