"No different from overseas duty,"
commented the Hawk, nodding his head.
"And the money's a hell of a lot
better than combat pay without a
weapon in sight."
"The logistics are in your favor,
too," continued Ginny. "Only two of
the five are married. Not too happily,
I gather. They won't miss, or be
missed."
"Well have to get women, though,"
countered MacKenzie, ''for R and R.
I'll scout the grounds later; spec out
tent arrangements far enough away from
the maneuvers, of course. And the
counselor here is going into Zurich to
219
i
take care of several financial items
for me. What do you think, Sam? How
long do you figure it will be before
you're finished''
Devereaux had to force himself to
consider the Hawk's question. He was
stunned by the obvious control
MacKenzie wielded over Ginny.
According to the data banks, she had
divorced MacKenzie over twenty years
ago; yet here she was deferring to him
like a schoolgirl with a crush on her
teacher.
"What did you say?" Sam knew the
question but wanted a few seconds to
evaluate.
"How long will Zurich take?"
"A day. Maybe a day and a half, with
no hitches. A lot will depend on the
account clearances. I think the trans-
fers are coded through Geneva, but I
may be wrong about that."
"Can 'hitches' be eliminated with a
little honey in the pot?"
"Probably. Relinquishing-of-interest
could apply. The time period's minor
but the,sums aren't. The depositories
would pick up several thousand on
paper. That might act as a general
incentive."
"Goddamn, son, you hear yourself?
You hear how good you are?"
"Elementary bookkeeping. A trial
lawyer figures litigation with banks
is prime-meat. They've got more ways
to lie to themselves and everybody
else~than anyone since tribes started
to barter. A decent attorney simply
picks the lies he knows will suit him
best."
"You hear that, Ginny? Isn't that boy
something?!"
"You're mighty impressive, Sam; I've
got to admit it. And, Mac, since the
mayjor here's got everything under
control, maybe I could go up to Zurich
with him and kind of keep him
company."
"Why, that's a splendid ideal Don't
know why I didn't think of it."
"I can't imagine how it escaped
you," said Devereaux quietly. "You're
all heart."
From all points of the compass the
Hawk's subordinate officers arrived.
They were met at the Zermatt railroad
220
1
station by the bereted, gold-toothed,
cat-eyed chauffeur whose name was
Rudolph. And Rudolph had a hectic two
days.
Crete showed up first, without
incident. That is, he managed to cross
international boundaries under the
scrutiny of very professional
authorities without incident (but with
a forged passport) and got as far as
the Zermatt station, where his
troubles erupted. For Rudolph refused
to acknowledge Crete to be Crete in
spite of the proper identity markings
on his clothing, and consequently
would not let him into his Italian
taxi.
Because, for reasons that escaped
Hawkins, none of the G-2 data bank
entries on Crete had established the
fact that he was Black. Yet there it
was. Crete was a brilliant
aeronautical engineer, a Soviet
sympathizer as long as the Huskies
paid him, a defected espionage agent
complete with a doctor's degree and
very black skin. Rudolph was totally
bewildered, so MacKenzie had to use
some very harsh language over the
telephone with Rudolph, and finally
the berated maniac let the schwarzer
in the back seat of his car.
Marseilles and Stockholm were next.
They flew in together out of Paris
because they met each other on the
previous night at Les Calavados on the
Boulevard George Cinque and renewed an
old acquaintanceship that went back to
the days when both were making money
from the Allies and the Axis. They
were delighted to discover that they
were both on a trip to the same yellow
mountain in Zermatt. Rudolph had no
trouble with Stockholm and Marseilles
because they spotted him before he
spotted them and they criticized him
for his stupidity at being obvious.
Beirut did not take the train from
Zurich; he hired an ambulance,
instead. He had his reasons; they went
back to several contraband run-ins
with the Zurich police. So he flew
into Geneva, drove a rented car in the
name of a socially elite transvestite,
dropped it in Lausanne, contacted
l'Hopital des Deux Enfants in Montreux
and leased the ambulance, ordering it
to transport him as a coronary wishing
to spend his last days in Zermatt. He
timed everything to the Zurich train
however and all would have 221
-1,
gone smoothly except for Rudolph.
Unfortunately, Rudolph had a flat tire
on the back roads of Machenfeld, and in
his subsequent haste to reach the
Bahnhoff on time he had a minor
collision in the railroad station's
parking lot. With the ambulance.
Therefore it was difficult for
Rudolph to identify the highly agitated
coronary patient, who climbed out of
the rear door yelling about imbeciles,
with the figure whose markings
identified him as Beirut.
But Rudolph-was beginning to shrug
more and more. The master of
Machenfeld, he was beginning to
suspect, was not all there in the head.
And neither were the people he was sent
up to Zermatt to meet.
And the lovely lady of his late-night
dreams, the beautifully breasted
fraulein, had left the chateau for
several days. Things were not the same.
Rome and Rudolph got along
splendidly. Rome lost his luggage on
the train. The combined chaos of
finding his three suitcases and his
contact from the chateau proved a
strain nearly too much for Rome.
Rudolph sympathized and allowed him to
sit in the front seat on the trip to
the chateau.
Biscay was extremely secretive. Once
he displayed the coded identification
(a pair of white gloves with black
roses stitched on the back) Biscay
/> excused himself to go to the men's room
and disappeared through a window. After
a half hour, Rudolph's impatience
turned to curiosity and the curiosity,
in turn, became panic when he
discovered the men's room empty. He
tried to remain inconspicuous as he
looked in nooks and crannies and
luggage bins. Biscay followed him
discreetly. And it was only after
Rudolph called Machenfeld in panic that
Biscay, listening from an adjacent
booth, decided that his contact was
authentic.
Biscay sat in the back seat, and
Rudolph did not say a single word all
the way to Machenfeld.
The last to arrive was Athens. If
Biscay was suspicious, Athens was
paranoid. To begin with, he pulled the
emergency cord on the train, stopping
it in the freight yards just outside
the station. Conductors and engineers
ran through the cars looking for the
emergency, while Athens
- 222-
jumped off and raced over the tracks
to the platform, where he concealed
himself behind a concrete pillar. It
was not difficult for Athens to spot
Rudolph.
The train finally proceeded into the
station. Rudolph examined all the
disembarking passengers; Athens could
see his anxiety. When there was no one
left on the platform railroad
personnel, Athens approached Rudolph
from the rear and tapped him on the
shoulder. As he did so, he displayed
his identification (a red ascot) and
gestured for Rudolph to follow him.
At which point, Athens raced back to
the end of the platform, jumped down
onto the tracks and started running
toward the freight yard. He soon
outdistanced Rudolph and started a
series of l-See-You's between the
immobile cars.
Five minutes later a distraught
Rudolph was being comforted by the
energetic Athens as they walked out of
the freight yards toward the taxi.
And as MacKenzie Hawkins watched the
car approach from the ramparts of
Machenfeld, he congratulated himself
once more on his professionalism.
Seventy-two hours had passed since he
had begun making his coded contacts
from the D'Accord; and in that
seventy-two hours every one of his
subordinate officers was physically on
the premises.
Goddamn!
Based on the accepted principle that
larceny goes a long way in the banking
business, Sam's trip to Zurich more
specifically his trip to the Stasts
Bank to centralize the Shepherd
Company's capital was so successful so
rapidly that he would be able to catch
the early afternoon train back to
Zermatt. And since Regina Greenberg
was out shopping, he left a message
for her at the Hotel.D'Accord: Have
gone bowling. Will be home late.
He wanted those hours on the train
by himself; to think, to refine. For
Option Seven was becoming more sharply
defined as the hours passed. Due
mainly to the papers he carried out of
the bank given him by a perspiring
trust officer who was considerably
richer than he was before he'd met
Sam.
age
l
Among the fourteen documents, four
pertained to the account transfers
from Geneva, the CaymanIslands, Ber-
lin, and Algiers minus accrued
interest, of course, one listed the
total assets of the Shepherd Company,
with its bond of confidentiality, its
codes of release and the account
number, one was in the name of the
family Devereaux (Sam did not explain
it and the banker had asked no
questions, treating the item as though
it did not exist); and eight separate
documents defined eight separate
trusts.
One of these accounts was larger
than the others and within it were
four individual sets of figures. . .
obviously meant for four individuals.
It did not take much reflection on
Devereaux's part to identify them:
Mrs. Hawkinses one, two, three, and
four.
That left seven trusts, each with an
identical maximum figure.
Seven.
The Hawk's support personnel.
MacKenzie had recruited seven men to
kidnap the pope. (Sam couldn't imagine
that any were women, the Hawk's four
ex-wives were capable of anything
calling for feminine skills.) These
seven were his what was its
subordinate officers. MacKenzie had
allowed that his subordinate officers
would be arriving at Machenfeld
shortly.
"What do you mean 'subordinate
officers'?" Devereaux had asked.
"The troops, son, the troops!" the
Hawk had replied, the flame reignited
in his eyes.
"What do you mean 'shortly'?"
"We're on blue alert, boy. That
means all posts are manned, contact
expected from here on in."
"Like in a few days?"
"Maybe sooner, depending on enemy
counterpersonnel blockades. Our troops
will have to cross hostile territory
on their way to base camp."
"What the fuck are you talking about?"
"Nothing you have to be concerned
with. Just bring back that money stuff
from Zurich. Before I give my first
briefing on the mission, I want my
subordinate officers to see for
themselves just how thoroughly command
center has taken care of their
interests. It'll give 'em a real sense
224
of purpose, of comradeship; it
emanates from the top, you know. It
always has."
That other reason why Option Seven
was coming into focus. Bring back that
money stuff...before I give my first
briefing . . . command center has
taken care Of their interests.
The Hawk's troops had been recruited
without knowing precisely what the war
was all about. Militarily speaking
there was nothing unusual in that, but
considering the enormity of the
projected enemy s resources namely,
the whole world a few well-chosen
words like, "Do you realize what this
maniac intends to do? Kidnap the
pope!" and "You're dealing with a
certified mental case!" and "Your
commander is a fruitcake!" and "This
lunatic shot the jade balls off a
Chinese monument." things like that
could very well make the support
personnel look to other fields of
endeavor.
It was a question of timing. And
psychology. If Sam read him correctly,
Hawkins was
going to hit his
subordinate officers with a
double-barreled salvo: a highly
technical, strategically "feasible"
description of the abduction, and bona
fide documents from the Staats Bank du
Zurich that guaranteed each man a
fortune, regardless of outcome! It
would be a tough act to cripple, but
that's what Option Seven was all
about.
Sam would reach the subordinate
officersQrst. He would shoot
offcannons of doubt regarding the
Hawk's fundamental sanity. There was
nothing more frightening to criminal
underlings than the possibility that
their employers were unbalanced. Lack
of balance meant lack of judgment, no
matter how well disguised. And lack of
judgment could spell
ten-to-twenty-to-life; in this case,
probably a long rope and a blindfold.
Even the criminal element in Europe
had to have heard of the paranoid
general who was thrown out of China.
It wasn't that long ago. And when he
had finished this part of his oral
summation, Sam would place his high
card on the table.
High? There were none higher. It was
irresistible.
For on the train to Zermatt be would
go through the documents from the
Stasts Bank du Zurich, specifically
225
l
the trust accounts, and write out all
the numbers and the sequential codes
of release, and put them on seven
pieces of paper.
He would give each man a card with
the information written on it. Each
could leave Chateau Machenfeld without
so much as sitting through a meal,
head for Zurich and claim his monetl
Each subordinate officer would make
a fortune! For doing absolutely
nothing. Irresistible!
~ Giovanni Bombalini, Vicar of Christ,
Robert Ludlum - Road To Gandolfo.txt Page 32
