But Roger's there." Valerie s face paled. "Oh, my
God!"
"What?"
"I've been trying to call him! Two days ago, then
yesterday and again today!"
"Coddamn it!" In the distance there were the
lights of a bay-front cafe. Joe} spoke rapidly, giving
an order that could not be disobeyed. "I don't care
how you do it, but you call Cape Ann! You come
back here and tell me my father's all right, do you
understand?"
"Yes. Because I want to hear it, too."
Converse skidded to a stop in front of the cafe,
knowing he should not have done so, but not caring.
Valerie rushed out of the car, her purse open, her
telephone credit card in her hand. If there was a
phone on the premises, she would use it; no one
could stop her. Joel lit a cigarette; the smoke was
acrid, stinging his throat; it was no relief. He stared
out at the dark water, at the lights spanning the
bridge in the distance trying not to think. It was no
use. What had he done? His father knew his
handwriting, and the instant he recognized it he
would rip open the envelope. He would be looking
for exculpation for his son and he would find it. He
would undoubtedly call Nathan Simon
immediately and therein was the horrible
possibility. Val would know enough from the mate-
rial itself to say little or nothing on the phone, but
not his father, not Roger. He would blurt out
everything in a frenzy of anger and defense of his
son. And if others were listening on that line....
Where was Val? She was taking too long!
Converse could not stop himself. He cracked the
handle of the door and leaped out of the car. He
raced toward the entrance of the cafe, then stopped
abruptly on the gravel. Valerie walked out, gesturing
for him to back away. He could see the tears rolling
down her cheeks.
THE AQUITAINE PROGRESSION 489
'Get in the car," she said, approaching him.
"No. Tell me what happened. Now."
"Please, Joel, get back in the car. Two men in
there kept watching me while I was on the phone. I
spoke Cerman, but they knew I was placing a call to
the States, and they saw I was upset. I think they
recognizedme. We have to get out of here."
"Tell me what happened!"
"In the car." Valerie tossed her head to the side,
her dark hair flying over her shoulder as she brushed
away her tears, and walked past Converse to the
automobile. She opened the door and got in, sitting
motionless in the seat.
"Goddamn you!" Trembling, Converse ran to
the car, jumped in behind the wheel and started the
engine, slamming the door shut as he pulled on the
gearshift. Turning the wheel, he backed up, then shot
forward into the road, the tires spinning on the
border of gravel. He kept his foot on the accelerator
until the dark scenery outside was a racing blur.
"Slow down," said Val simply, without emphasis.
"You'll only call attention to us."
He could barely hear her through his panic, but
he heard the order. He eased his foot off the pedal.
'He's dead, isn't he?"
' Yes."
' Oh, Christ! What happened? What did they
tell you? Whom did you talk to?"
"A neighbor, the name's not important. We have
keys to each other's house. She volunteered to take
in the newspapers and check the place until the
police reached me. She happened to be there when
I called. I asked her if there was a large envelope
sent from Germany in the pile of mail. She said
there wasn't."
'The police? What happened?"
"You know my house is on the beach. There's a
jetty of rocks about a hundred yards up-water. It's
not large or long really, just some kind of marking
from years ago "
"Tell me!" shouted Joel, gripping the wheel.
"They say he must have gone for a walk last
night, went out on the jetty and slipped on the wet
rocks. There was a large bruise on his head. His
body was washed up onshore and found this
morning."
"Lies! Lies! They heard him! They went after
himI"
490 ROBERT LUDLUM
"My telephone? On the plane over here I
thought about that. '
"You would, he wouldn't! I killed him. Goddamn
it, I killed him!"
' No more than I did,Joel," insisted the ex-Mrs.
Converse, touching his arm, wincing at the sight of
tears in his eyes. ' And I loved him very much. You
and I left each other, but he was still a very ~ lose
friend, perhaps my closest."
"He called you 'Valley,'" said Joel, choking,
trying to push back the pain. "The bastards!
Bastards!"
"Do you want me to drive?"
"No!"
"The telephone I have to ask you I thought the
police or the FBI or people like that might get a
court order.'
"Of course they would! It s why I knew I couldn
t call you. I was going to call Nate Simon."
"But you're not talking about the police or the
FBI. You're talking about someone else, some thing
else."
"Yes. No one knows who they are where they
are. But they're there. And they can do whatever
they want to do. Jesusl Even Dad! That's what's so
goddamned frightening."
"And that s what you re going to tell me about,
isn t it?" said Valerie, gripping his arm.
"Yes. A few minutes ago I was going to hold
back and not tell you everything, instead try to
convince you to get Nate to fly over here so we
could meet and he could see I wasn't crazy. But not
now. There's no time now; they're cutting off every
outlet. They've got the envelope it was all I had!
. . . I'm sorry, Val, but I am going to tell you
everything. I wish to God I didn t have to for your
sake but like you, I don't have a choice anymore."
"I didn't come over here to give you a choice.
He drove into the field near the water's edge
and stopped the car. The grass was high, the moon
a bright crescent over the bay, the lights of
Amsterdam in the distance. They got out and he led
her to the darkest spot he could find, holding her
hand, suddenly realizir g that he had not held her
hand in years the touch, the gyp, so comfortable,
so much a part of them. He repelled the thought; he
was a provider of death.
"Here, I guess," he said, releasing her hand.
"All right." She lowered herself gracefully, like a
dancer,
THE AQUITAINE PROGRESSION 491
and sat down on the soft grass, pushing the reeds
aside. 'How do you feel?" she asked.
'Awful," said Joel, looking up at the dark sky. "I
meant what I said. I killed him. All the years of
trying his trying, my trying and I end up killing
him. If I'd only let him alone, let him be himself, no
t
someone I wanted him to be, he'd probably be
drinking up a storm somewhere thousands of miles
away, telling his crazy stories, making everyone
laugh. But not in your house at Cape Ann
yesterday."
"You didn't force him to fly back from Hong Kong,
Joel. '
"Oh, hell, not by pleading or giving him an order,
if that's what you mean. But the order was there
nevertheless. After Mother died it was the unspoken
words between us. 'Grow up, Dad! Have your little
trips but don't stay away so long people worry. Be
responsible, father mine.' Christ, I was so fucking
holier than thou! And I end up killing him."
"You didn't kill him! Others did! Now, tell me
about them."
Converse swallowed, brushing the tears from his
eyes. "Yes, you're right there isn't time, even for
old Roger."
"There'll be time later."
"If there's a later," said Joel, breathing deeply,
finding control. "You know about Rene, don't you?"
"Yes, I read about it yesterday. I was sick.... Larry
Talbot told me that you saw him in Paris. How even
Rene thought you were disturbed, as Larry did when
you talked to him. And Rene was killed for seeing
you. Larry must be going out of his mind."
"That's not the reason Rene was killed. Let's talk
about Larry. The first time I reached him I needed
information without asking him directly. He was
being used because of me, followed, and he didn't
know it. If I'd told him, the jock in him would have
reacted, and he'd have been shot down in the street.
But the last time I spoke with him I walked into it.
I'd broken away from the people who d caught
me I was exhausted, still frightened, and I was open
with him. I told him everything."
"He mentioned it to me," interrupted Val. "He
said you were reliving your experiences in North
Vietnam. There was a psychiatric term for it '
Converse shook his head, a short, derisive laugh
emerging from his throat. "Isn t there always? I
suppose there were similarities and I m sure I
alluded to them, but that's all they
492 ROBERT lUDtUN1
were, similarities.... didn't hear what I was saying.
He was listening for words that confirmed what
others had said about me, what he believed was
true. He pretended to be the friend I knew but he
wasn't. He was a lawyer trying to convince a client
that he was sick, that for everyone's safety the client
should turn himself in. When I realized what he was
doing and that l d told him where I was, I knew
he'd spread the word, thinking he was doing the
right thing. I just wanted to get out of there, so I
halfway agreed with him, hung up, and ran.... I was
lucky. Twenty minutes later I saw a car drive up in
front of the hotel with two of my would-be
executioners."
"You're sure of that?"
Joel nodded. 'Y'he next day one of them stated
for the record that he'd seen me at the Adenauer
Bridge with Walter Peregrine. I wasn't anywhere
near that bridge at least I don't think so, I don't
know where it is."
~ "I read that story in the Times. The man was
an Army officer, a major from the embassy named
Washburn."
"That's right." Converse broke off a long blade
of grass, twisting it, tearing it in his fingers. 'They're
great at manipulating the media newspapers, radio,
television. Every word they put out is cleansed
through channels, branded authentic official. They
take out lives as if people were pieces in a chess
game, including their own. They don't care; they
only want to win. And it's the biggest game in
modern history. The terrifying thing is that they can
win it."
"Joel, do you know what you're saying? An
American ambassador, the supreme commander of
NATO, Rene, your father . . . you. Then killers in
the embassy, a manipulated press, lies out of
Washington, Paris, Bonn all given official status.
You're describing some kind of Anschluss, some de-
monic, political takeover!"
Converse looked at her in the moonlight, the
breezes off the water bending the tall grass. "That's
exactly what it is, conceived by one man and run by
a handful of others, all completely sincere in their
beliefs and as persuasive as any group of
professionals I've ester heard. But the bottom line
is that they're fanatics, killers in a quest they
consider nothing less than holy. They've
recruited are recruiting like-minded men
everywhere, other frustrated professionals who think
there's nowhere else to turn. They grab at the
theories and the promises, accepting accepting,
hell, extolling the
THE AQUITAINE PROGRESSION 493
myths of efficiency and discipline and self-sacrifice,
because they know it leads to power. Power to
replace the inefficient, the undisciplined, the c
orrupters and the corrupted. They're blind; they can't
see beyond their own distorted image of
themselves.... If that sounds like a summation it
probably is. I haven't slept much, but I do a lot of
thinking. '
'The jury's still in place, Joel, ' said Valerie, her
eyes alive, again levered at his. "I don't want a
summation, I want it all. I think you should begin at
the beginning where it began for you."
"Okay. It started in Geneva '
"I knew it,' interrupted Val, whispering.
"What?"
"Nothing. Go on."
"With a man I hadn't seen in twenty-three years.
I knew him by one name then, but in Geneva he was
using another. He explained it and it didn't matter.
Except that it was a little eerie. I didn't know how
eerie it was, or how much he didn't explain, or how
many lies he told me in order to manipulate me. The
hell of it is he did what he did for all the right
reasons. I was the man they needed. They. And I
don't know who they are, only that they're there,
somewhere.... As long as I live however long I'm
permitted I'll never forget the words he used when
he reached the core of why he had come to Geneva.
'They're beck,' he said. 'The generals are back.'"
He told her everything, allowing his mind and his
thoughts to wander, to include every detail he could
recall. The countdown was in progress. In a matter of
days or at best a week or two there would be
eruptions of violence everywhere like what was
taking place in Northern Ireland right now.
'Accumulations,' they said. 'Rapid acceleration!'
Only, no one knew who or what or where the targets
were. George Marcus Delavane was the madman
who conceived it all, and other powerful madmen
were listening to him, following his orders, moving
into positions from which they would leap for the
contro
ls. Everywhere
Finally he was finished, a part of him in anguish,
knowing that if she was caught by the soldiers of
Aquitaine, the narcotics inserted in her body would
reveal the information that would result in her death.
He said as much when he had finished, wanting
desperate! v to breach the space between them and
hold her, telling her how much he hated himself for
doing what he knew he had to do. But he made no
move toward
494 ROBERT LUDLUM
her; her eyes told him not to; she was evaluating,
thinking things out for herself.
"Sometimes," she said quietly, 'when the dreams
would come, or you drank too much, you'd talk
about this Delavane. You d become so panicked
you'd tremble and close your eyes and every now
and then you'd scream. You hated that man so.
You were also frightened to death of him."
"He caused' a lot of death, unnecessary death.
Kids . . . children in grown-up uniforms who didn't
know that Bung ho meant search and destroy and
get blown apart."
"There's no way you could be what do they call
it transferring your emotions?"
"If you believe that, I'll drive you back to the
Amstel and you can fly home in the morning and go
back to your easels. I'm not crazy, Val. I'm here
and it's happening."
"All right, I had to ask. You didn't live through
some of those nights, I did. You were either
crashing into the bed or so scratched by a bottle you
didn't know where you were:"
Robert Ludlum - Aquatain Progression.txt Page 76
