"You got worried when you found out I wanted to bail out of the case," I continued. "You already knew at that time that the Russians had Foster and your ex-wife, and you had to stay plugged into the situation until you could figure out what to do. I was your plug.
"But first you had to change my mind; you had to make me feel better; you had to make me see things the way you wanted me to see them. You eased my guilt with that incredible mind of yours. There's a distinct sensation when you touch someone's mind; I first felt it when we were together in the chapel. Of course, I didn't know what was happening at the time, but then I felt it again in the hospital, and still again at the farmhouse. I went into that chapel ready to slit my wrists, and walked out feeling pretty good.
When I stopped to think about it, I knew it wasn't natural. In fact, it was getting to the point—then and later—where I perked up every time you were around. You juiced up my psyche once too often, and I started to put it together after I heard Lippitt describe what you'd done for him.
"You were the one who saved me at the farmhouse. I knew I heard a door open; it was you. I think I know what you did, but I can't understand how you found out I was there."
Tal shrugged. "Let me speculate along your lines. Rafferty was keeping a very close watch on things ... and who would be better qualified than a total telepath? He knew about the two British agents on your tail, and he knew the Russians had brought in Kaznakov. He became very much concerned and made it a point to make excuses to see—or at least be physically close to—informed British and Russian officials every day. Of course, there had to be a bit of good fortune involved; he may have talked with an Englishman who was nervous because a check-in call from the two agents he controlled was long overdue. Then, naturally, Rafferty would have probed to find out where the British agents were supposed to be." He smiled thinly. "Pure speculation, of course."
Tal seemed calmer now, and I was certain I knew why. He'd made a decision: Tal, in his own way, was telling me I was right. He really had no choice; whether he admitted it or not, what I'd already said was probably enough to get us both killed if I repeated it anywhere else.
"Go ahead," Tal said. "Let's hear the rest of it."
"Again: why don't you just read my mind?"
Tal took some time to think about his answer. "Perhaps it's physically painful, Mongo. Maybe it's a very personal thing that involves simply not wanting to invade someone else's privacy. Or, maybe I'm simply not Victor Rafferty."
"You are Victor Rafferty."
"Why insist on being so sure, Mongo? Right or wrong, you'll pay a terrible price; that kind of certainty could make you responsible for the lives of Victor Rafferty and others for as long as you live. Don't pick up that burden. Rafferty died in that explosion down on the beach. Leave it at that."
"Why not just kill me?"
"You mean if I was who you say I am? Because Victor Rafferty is not a killer." He paused, added: "Except, I assume, when he has no other choice."
I cleared my throat, tried to swallow. My mouth was still dry. "I was in bad shape after Kaznakov played his tune on me. I was finished. I might never have come back. But you took care of that, too... in the apartment, while I slept. I know enough about psychiatry to realize that a mental condition like the one I had couldn't possibly cure itself overnight. Thaag probably put something in the tea to make me sleep. Then you came back and went to work on my head, just the same as you did when you entered Lippitt's mind to cure him of that permanent chill. You fixed me up because you needed me for the break-in at the consulate.
"Incidentally, you probably stole that plan from Lippitt. You were going in anyway because you knew about the ultimatum. That's why you called the Russians, using a voice you hadn't used in five years. Lippitt had a good plan, and that's why you co-opted it. You had to make sure that you went along, because that was the only way you could help ensure success. After all, your ex-wife was in there, and you still love her."
Tal made an angry, impatient gesture. "Victor Rafferty is dead, remember?"
I went on as if he hadn't spoken. "The most incredible thing was that trick you pulled off at the consulate. If you did what I think you did, it's no wonder everyone's turning the world inside out looking for you." I paused for breath; the excitement and anxiety I felt were making me short-winded. "You knew something was wrong when I didn't show up on time to open the door. You waited until Lippitt got nervous and started to look around—or maybe you planted the suggestion in his mind. He walked away for a few seconds and you threw back that steel bolt with your mind. Telekinesis. God, how that must have cost you! You hemorrhaged, just as you did five years ago when you broke out of that hospital room. There was blood running out of your nose. You'd come up to help me. Finally, there was the way you guided us safely out of that building. You seemed to know where everything was, and what was happening; you even knew that a silent alarm had been triggered. You picked that up from the guard."
"Who blew up the boathouse?" Tal asked. "Do you believe Elliot Thomas was kind enough to do that for... Victor Rafferty?"
"Rolfe Thaag took care of that bit of business. He's not young, but he's in good shape, and he'd know about firearms and explosives from his World War Two days with the Resistance."
"The Secretary General is in the hospital."
"Is he? We'll see. I think you had something like this as a contingency plan from the beginning, although having Thomas make his move when he did was an added blessing; you had a real body to put in the boathouse. I'm betting a title search will show that this particular piece of real estate belongs to you personally, to Rolfe Thaag, or even to some U.N. agency. You've both had time to plan this thing and make preparations. My guess is that there's an underground passage leading out of that boathouse into this one or the one next door. Rolfe Thaag sat in there for a while with an unconscious Thomas, trading shots with Lippitt and his men long enough for all the invited guests to show up. Then he left through that underground passage—which I think we'll find with a little digging—to wherever he is now. That's where he operated the boat by remote control. Thomas must have regained consciousness before he was supposed to. Hell, for all I know you may have been able to control the poor bastard from here."
Tal suddenly looked over my shoulder and tensed. "Why don't you join us, Mr. Lippitt?"
There was the sound of footsteps behind me, and I turned in time to see Lippitt step out from the shadows by the entranceway where he'd been listening. He walked slowly into the boathouse and stopped a few yards away from where Tal and I were standing. The agent was carrying a large, ugly pistol which was leveled at Tal.
I felt stricken at the thought that I'd been the one to expose Tal.
no, mongo, you didn't lead him here
It was Tal, reading my thoughts as easily as if they'd been spoken aloud.
Lippitt has had his own suspicions for some time
I felt a sudden chill as I realized that Tal hadn't spoken at all; the words¯the thoughts—had simply appeared in my mind, clear, unmistakable. I looked at Tal in astonishment. He returned my gaze and slowly, deliberately ... winked.
So now you know for certain, my friend I need your help with Lippitt, we have a real problem
"That door at the consulate was locked," Lippitt said. "It was bolted tight. I tried it. There's only one man who could have opened that door ... Jesus, Rafferty! What the hell have you been up to for the past five years?"
"You know as well as anyone," Tal said easily. "I've never been out of the public eye, and I think my record speaks for itself. The Secretary General has made continued good use of the information I've supplied him with."
"That's a matter of opinion, Rafferty. Thaag's periodic revelations to the world press haven't always been in the best interests of your country. I believe I've mentioned that."
DON'T, Mongo he'll kill you
I'd been thinking of trying to jump Lippitt.
good... relax as you may have noticed, Mr. Lippitt does
tend to get slightly hysterical where I'm concerned argue my case, if you will, but don't try to move on him he's very, very fast he's on his guard now and his will is very strong if you talk to him, distract him, we may get out of this yet trust me
"I have no country, Lippitt," Tal said. "You took that away from me. But that's immaterial. The point is that our work at the U.N. has been evenhanded and fair. People benefit from what I do."
Lippitt seemed to bow his head slightly. When he spoke, his voice was so low it could hardly be heard. "I... I've never had a chance to thank you for healing me."
"You showed your appreciation to Victor Rafferty by protecting his wife these past five years," Tal said. "You knew you would get no thanks from her, yet you risked your life to rescue her from the consulate. You're a man of loyalty and honor." He paused, smiled. "That's a source of torment even Victor Rafferty can't do anything about."
"What will you do now, Lippitt?" I said.
My voice was too loud, too anxious, but Lippitt didn't seem to notice. He nodded in Tal's direction. "He knows what has to be done."
Tal wearily shook his head. "No, that's not possible. I won't work for you. Besides, there are complications."
"What complications? Everyone thinks Victor Rafferty is dead."
"Except for Rolfe Thaag and Mongo."
Rolfe Thaag's voice rose out of the darkness at the far end of the boathouse, behind Lippitt. "Yes, Mr. Lippitt. That is a problem, isn't it? Will you now have to kill us both?"
Lippitt wheeled and crouched, gun in hand, as the Secretary General stepped out of the shadows. Thaag, like Tal, was dressed all in black. The submachine gun he carried was trained on Lippitt's stomach.
Lippitt was still in a crouch, his gun on Thaag, his eyes darting back and forth between Thaag, Tal, and me. Thaag kept coming, stopped a few yards from Lippitt.
do NOTHING, Mongo watch
"Well, Mr. Lippitt?" There was scorn, mockery in Thaag's voice. He casually tossed the heavy gun off to one side; it landed with a crash and skittered off into the darkness. Lippitt, looking thoroughly puzzled, slowly straightened up.
"Why did you do that?" Lippitt asked in a thick voice. "You could have killed me."
"There's been too much death already. You're so unimaginative, Lippitt, such a fool. God, if you only knew how tired I get of dealing with fools." The Secretary General's voice suddenly rose harshly. "Answer me! Do you intend to kill us? And after you kill us, how will you force Ronald to do your bidding? Will you kidnap his wife? Will you threaten to torture her?"
"Shut up!" Lippitt shouted. His voice abruptly dropped to a rasping whisper. "Damn it, Thaag, what choice do I have?" Lippitt suddenly made a gargling sound and stiffened. "Damn you!" The words were choked, squeezed through jaws that suddenly seemed to be locked tightly together. "Stop it! You ... can't! I won't ..Let you!"
I looked at Tal. His eyes were closed in concentration; his head was thrust slightly forward, and the veins stood out in his neck and forehead. He began to tremble and grabbed at his head as blood spurted from both nostrils, staining the front of his clothing, spotting the boards at his feet. Still he maintained his concentration. Lippitt seemed caught in the grip of some terrible force. He was obviously struggling with all his strength and will, yet the hand holding the gun slowly, inexorably, came down. The fingers, bent into claws, stiffened, and the gun clattered to the floor.
Hearing about telekinesis and seeing it performed were two quite different things. This was the last and most terrifying demonstration I'd seen of Victor Rafferty's powers. Suddenly I understood Lippitt perfectly; I shared his fear. The remote-control assassination of a president could be nothing more than a minor exercise for Victor Rafferty. He could actually move men and objects with his mind: I suspected he would have less difficulty exploding a brain, as he'd already done on a hot August morning five years before.
"You miss the obvious alternative," Rolfe Thaag said quietly as he stepped forward and kicked Lippitt's gun away.
Tal relaxed his concentration. At the same moment Lippitt jerked spasmodically and just managed to keep himself from falling. He started after the gun.
"Don't!" Tal snapped. "Next time I'll have to hurt you! I assure you that's easier than what I just did."
Lippitt froze, then slowly turned back to face Tal.
"Ronald has never considered selling himself to the highest bidder," Thaag said. "I am only grateful that I was worthy of his trust five years ago. True, he has been invaluable in diplomatic negotiations... but he's also helped hundreds of people the same way he helped you, Mr. Lippitt, without their ever knowing. So, you see, the alternative is to remain silent. You know where he is, and you'll constantly be watching him. That's enough. Let him continue his work. Say nothing to anyone."
Lippitt shook his head. "How do I know—how do you know—he won't change? How can I know how he'll feel tomorrow... or ten years from now? He'll always be a threat."
"Take a chance, Lippitt," I heard myself saying. "For God's sake, take a chance!"
"You'll always know where to find me, Lippitt," Tal said as he wiped the blood from his face. "You'll have to trust me... as I'll have to trust you. My life is in the hands of the people in this room."
We stood for a long time in silence. Rolfe Thaag found Lippitt's gun, picked it up, and handed it to him. Lippitt snatched the gun, wheeled with lightning speed, and aimed it at Tal's heart. Tal stood calmly, a smile playing around the edges of his mouth. Then Lippitt abruptly shoved the gun into his coat pocket, turned, and looked at me with a question in his eyes.
Suddenly, for the first time, I felt the full, electric impact of the deadly secret we were being asked to share. Lippitt was emotionally separated from Tal, Thaag, and me; both Lippitt and I would be physically separated from each other, and from the other two. Yet there would be an invisible but steel-strong thread binding us all together for the rest of our lives, a thread spun at once of life and death, trust and suspicion. I was intrigued. And I was afraid.
"It's a good deal," I said to Lippitt. "Take it. I don't plan on saying anything. Not ever."
Lippitt turned and walked out of the boathouse. He didn't look back.
I glanced at Tal. "Will he keep it a secret?"
Tal smiled thinly, nodded his head. "He intends to at the moment."
"He could change his mind, come after you."
"Well, yes, he could. But I don't think he will." His smile broadened. "Speaking of reading minds: You'd better go get your brother the steak and drinks you offered him before you walked in here. There's a man with questions."
Tal put his hand on my shoulder and we walked together out into the smoky sunshine, while Rolfe Thaag melted back into the shadows.
Shadow of a Broken Man Page 22
