So our friend here had no intention of being taken alive?
Id say so. Now, in spite of the fact that I suspect it will prove useless, I intend to complete my usual thorough examination. What, by the way, do you know about the guy?
The only thing I can tell you is that hes thirty years old. When can I have the body?
Id say an hour should do it.
Good. Ill arrange transportation while were waiting in the office, and George He pulled him away and murmured softly, I dont mind the technicians having heard the Himmler bit, but nothing more. No comment. And bring the videotape when youre finished.
Yes, O great one.
Romano turned back to the task at hand, and Blake and Clancy went out.
They sat in the Superintendents office, and Blake made a call on his Codex mobile. It was answered almost instantly.
Highgrove.
Its Blake Johnson, I phoned earlier about a disposal.
Of course, sir. Were ready and waiting.
You know where we are. The package will be ready in one hour.
Well be there.
And Ill expect the disposal to be immediate.
Naturally.
Blake switched off. Lets have some coffee.
There was a pot standing ready in the machine. Clancy went and poured two cups. Not a thing on him. Swept clean. No ID, no passport, and yet he had to have one to get into the country.
Probably stashed it before he came here tonight. Everything else was likely forged. Came into the country posing as a tourist. A forged green card was supplied, a room booked for him in some modest hotel.
And the AK?
Could have been left for him in a locker anywhere. The job at the security agency could have been arranged for him in advance. Ill bet he didnt even meet anyone from his organization here in New York.
But some outfit sent him from London.
Of course, otherwise why would he be here? Theyve probably got friends in New York who kept an anonymous eye on him, but preferred not to get involved.
I wouldnt blame them. It was a suicide mission, Clancy said. Even if we hadnt gotten him now, hed have been run down like a dog if the worst had happened.
Very probably. Now I must speak to the President.
He found Cazalet at his desk in the Oval Office.
Mr. President, we got him. The whole thing was for real. Hes dead, unfortunately.
That is unfortunate. Gunshot wound?
Cyanide.
Dear me. Where are you now?
The mortuary, waiting for the disposal team.
Fine. Take care of it, Blake. This never happened. I dont want it on the front page of the New York Times. Ill order a plane to pick up you and Clancy. I want you back here as soon as possible so we can sort things out.
Yes, Mr. President.
And since it was our British cousins who alerted us to the existence of Morgan, youd better telephone General Ferguson and let him know.
In London, it was four oclock in the morning when the security phone rang at General Charles Fergusons flat in Cavendish Place. He switched on the bedside light and answered.
At such an appalling hour, I can only assume this is of supreme importance.
It always is when it concerns the Empire, Charles.
It was the code word used to indicate the President in danger.
Ferguson was fully alert now and sat up. Blake, my good friend. What happened?
Your information on Henry Morgan was dead-on. He tried to hit the President tonight, but Clancy and I stopped him. Unfortunately, he had a cyanide tooth, so hes no longer with us.
Is the President all right?
Absolutely. As for Morgan, whats left of him will soon be six pounds of gray ash. Ill probably flush it down the toilet.
Youre a hard man, Blake, harder than I believed possible.
Its the nature of the job, Charles, and the bastard did intend to assassinate the President. Anyway, thanks to you and the rest of the Prime Ministers Private Army, its all come out fine. Thank them all for me: Hannah Bernstein, Sean Dillon, and Major Roper.
Especially Roper on this one. The mans a genius on the computer.
Got to run, Charles. Ill be in touch.
Blake put the phone down, and Romano entered carrying a videotape and several documents.
Got to run, Charles. Ill be in touch.
Blake put the phone down, and Romano entered carrying a videotape and several documents.
Good man, Blake said.
Not really. Romano lit a cigarette. Im smart enough to know my place, thats all.
Clancy had gone out to check the corridor and found two men in black coats pushing a gurney with a body bag on it.
One of them, a quietly cadaverous man, said, Mr. Johnson?
Blake leaned out of the office door. Hes all ready and waiting for you. Load him on and well see you at Highgrove. Tell Mr. Coffin to wait until we arrive.
As you say, sir.
They moved away. Clancy said, Coffin? Is that for real?
If its the man I know, it certainly is. Romano smiled bleakly. Fergus Coffin. I believe its called life imitating art. At that moment, the gurney returned with what was obviously Henry Morgan in the body bag. On your way now, gentlemen. I think Ive had enough for one night.
In the mortuary at Highgrove, Blake and Clancy waited by the ovens. Fergus Coffin and an attendant pushed the gurney forward, the body still enclosed in the black body bag.
Blake said, Open it.
Coffin nodded and his associate unzipped it, exposing the head. Henry Morgan it was.
He looks at peace, Blake said.
He would be, Mr. Johnson, Coffin told him. Death is a serious business. Ive devoted my life to it.
No questions?
None. Ive seen the presidential warrant, but its more than that. Youre a good man, Mr. Johnson. Every instinct tells me that. Youve known great sorrow.
Blake, remembering a murdered wife, stiffened for a moment and then said, How long?
With the new technology, thirty minutes.
Then get on with it. Put him in, but I need to see. He held out the documents and video. And these.
The other man opened one of the oven doors, Coffin pushed the gurney forward, Henry Morgan slid inside. Coffin pulled the gurney away, the glass door closed, a button was pressed. The oven flared at once, the gas jets peaking, and the body bag flared instantly, also the video and documents.
Blake turned to Clancy. Well wait, and led the way outside.
In the office, they smoked cigarettes. Clancy said, You want coffee?
Not in a million years. A good stiff drink is what I need, but well have to wait until were on the plane.
Rain hammered against the window. Clancy said, Does it ever bother you, this kind of thing?
Clancy, I went to war for my country in Vietnam when I was very young and full of ideals. I never really regretted it. Someone had to do it. Now, all these years later, were at war with the world a world where global terrorism is the name of the game. He stubbed out his cigarette in an ashtray. And Clancy, Ill do anything it takes. I took an oath to my President and I take that to be an oath to my country. He smiled slightly. Does that give you a problem?
And Clancy Smith, once the youngest sergeant major in the Marine Corps, smiled. Not in the slightest.
At that moment, the door opened and Coffin entered, holding a plastic urn. Henry Morgan, six pounds of gray ash.
Excellent, Blake said, and Clancy took the urn.
Many thanks, Blake told Coffin. Believe me, youve never done anything more important.
I accept your word for that, Mr. Johnson, and Coffin went out.
Lets go, Blake said, and added, Bring the urn with you.
He led the way out to the parking lot, where the rain poured down relentlessly. They walked to their limousine, which was parked by what, in season, would obviously be a flower bed.
Blake said, I was going to put those ashes down the toilet, but lets be more civilized and do something for next years flowers.
Good idea.
Clancy unscrewed the top of the urn and poured the ashes over the flower bed.
I believe its called strewing.
I dont care what its called. Washington next, so lets catch that plane.
WASHINGTON
2
But a cold front moving in from the Atlantic had done unmentionable things to the weather, and in spite of the rain, or because of it, low clouds produced heavy fog and closed things down at Kennedy.
Blake and Clancy made the best of things in one of the VIP lounges, dozing fitfully, but were still there at six the following morning when they got word that their Gulfstream had managed to get in.
As they walked out through the terminal, bags in hand, Clancy said, Theres no romance in this work anymore. I must have seen every James Bond movie on TV at one time or another, and he never got held up by bad weather at any airport, not once. Here weve got a Gulfstream, one of the classiest aircraft in the world, and it still couldnt get to us.
Nature rules, Blake said. Face up to it and shut up. Well be on our way in fifteen minutes.
They rose up very quickly to thirty thousand feet. The crew was air force and their stewardess a young sergeant who introduced herself as Mary.
Now, what can I get you gentlemen?
Well, I know its only six-thirty in the morning, Blake told her, but for very special reasons I think a bottle of champagne is in order. Could you manage that?
I think that could be arranged. She gave them a dazzling smile and moved down to the galley.
We didnt do too badly, did we? Clancy said. Considering that the President could have been facedown on the pavement.
That he isnt is due to Major Roper warning us that there was something fishy about Morgan in the first place. But I anticipated taking him alive, Clancy, squeezing the juice out of him.
Its not your fault, Blake. We did everything right. The tooth thing was just unfortunate.
Sergeant Mary appeared with two glasses of champagne, which they took gratefully.
Blake toasted Clancy. Lets hope the President agrees with you.
In Washington, the rain was even heavier when they arrived, but a limousine was waiting and they were taken through at once and on their way, moving along Constitution Avenue toward the White House. In spite of the weather, there was a sizable crowd of demonstrators, a kind of moonscape of umbrellas against the rain, shepherded by police.
Which war are they protesting against? Clancy asked.
Who knows? Theres some sort of war going on in nearly every country in the world these days. Dont ask me, Clancy. All I know is some people seem to make a profession out of protest.