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Robert Ludlum - Aquatain Progression.txt

Page 41

by The Aquitaine Progression [lit]


  "It was not your battle, ma cherie. It was ours.

  Since Berlin, it was always we two. We fought then

  together; we fight now as always as one."

  Her mother died six days later, and six months

  after that her father lit a Gauloise on the

  screened-in porch and mercifully fell asleep, not to

  wake up. Valerie could not cry. It was

  262 R08ERT IUDIUM

  a shock but not a tragedy. Wherever he was he

  wanted to be there.

  So Valerie Charpentier looked for a job, a

  paying job that did not rely on the sales of an

  unknown artist. What astonished her was not that

  employment was so easy to find, but that it had very

  little to do with the thick portfolio of sketches and

  line drawings she presented. The second advertising

  agency she applied to seemed more interested in

  the fact that she spoke both German and French

  fluently. It was the bme of corporate takeovers, of

  multinational alliances where profits could be made

  on both sides of the Atlantic by the same single

  entities. Valerie Charpentier, artist-in-residence

  inside, became a company hack on the outside.

  Someone who could draw and sketch rapidly and

  make presentations and speak the languages and

  she hated it. Still, it was a remarkable living for a

  woman who had anticipated a period of years

  before her name on a canvas would mean

  something.

  Then a man came into her life who made

  whatever affairs she had had totally forgettable. A

  nice man, a decent man even an exciting

  man who had his own problems but did not talk

  about them, would not talk about them, and that

  should have given her a clue. Joel, her Joel, effusive

  one moment, withdrawn the next, but always with

  that shield, that facade of quick humor which was

  often as biting as it was amusing. For a while they

  had been good for each other. Both were ambitious

  for entirely different reasons she for the in-

  dependence that came with recognition, he for the

  wasted years he could never reclaim and each

  acted as a buffer when the other faced

  disappointment or delay. But it all began to fall

  apart. The reasons were painfully clear to her but

  not to him. He became mesmerised by his own

  progress by his own determination, to the exclusion

  of everything else, starting with her. He never raised

  his voice or made demands, but the words were ice

  and the demands were increasingly there. If there

  was a specific point when she recognised the

  downhill slide, it was a Friday night in November.

  The agency had wanted her to fly to West Berlin; a

  Telefunken account required some fast personal

  service and she was elected to calm the churning

  waters. She had been packing when Joel came home

  from work. He had walked into the bedroom of

  their apartment and asked her what she was doing,

  where she was going. When she told him, he had

  said, ' You can't. We're expected at Brooks' house

  in Larchmont tomorrow night. Tal

  THE AQUITAINE PROGRESSION 263

  hot and Simon'll be there too. I m sure they'll talk

  international. You've got to be there."

  She had looked at him, at the quiet desperation

  in his eyes. She did not go to Germany. It was the

  turning point; the downhill race had begun, and

  within a brief few months she knew it was quickening

  to its finish. She quit the agency, giving up authority

  for the dog days of free-lancing, hoping the extra

  time she had to devote to him might help. It did not;

  he seemed to resent any overt act of sacrifice, no

  matter how hard she tried to conceal it. His periods

  of withdrawal multiplied, and in a way she felt sorry

  for him. His furies were driving him and it was

  obvious that he disliked what was happening; he

  disliked what he was but could not help himself. He

  was on his way to a burnout and she could not help

  him, either.

  If there had been another woman, she could have

  fought, staking out her claim and fiercely insisting on

  the right to compete, but there was no one else, only

  himself and his compulsions. Finally, she realized she

  could not penetrate his shield; he had nothing left

  for anyone else emotionally. That was what she had

  hurled at him: 'Emotional burn-out!" He had agreed

  in that quiet, kind voice and the next day he was

  gone.

  So she took him. Four years, she demanded, the

  exact amount of time he had taken from her. Those

  four years of heady generosity were about to come to

  an end, Val reflected, as she cleaned her brushes and

  scraped the palette. In January they were over, the

  last check, as always, posted by the fifteenth. Five

  weeks ago, during lunch at the Ritz in Boston, Joel

  had offered to continue the payments. He claimed he

  was used to them and was making more in salary and

  bonuses than he could spend soberly. The money was

  no hardship, and besides it gave him a certain stature

  among his peers and was a marvelous ploy to avoid

  prolonged entanglements. She had declined,

  borrowing words from her father or more likely her

  mother, saying that things were far better than they

  were. He had smiled that half-sad yet still infectious

  smile and said, "If they turn out otherwise, I m here."

  Coddamn himl

  Poor Joel. Sad Joel. He was a good man caught

  in the vortex of his own conflicts. And Val had gone

  as far as she could go to go further was to deny her

  own identity. She would not do that; she had not

  done it.

  264 ROBERT LUDLUM

  She placed her brushes in the tray and walked

  to the glass doors that looked over the dunes and

  the ocean. He was out there, far away, still

  somewhere in Europe. Valerie wondered if he

  had given a thought to the day. It was the

  anniversary of their marriage.

  To summarize,Chaim Abrahms was molded in the

  stress and chaos of fighting for daily survival. They

  were years of never-ending violent skirmishes, of

  outthinking and outliving enemies bent on killing

  not only whole sabre settlements but the desertJews'

  aspirations for a homeland as well as political free-

  dom and religious expression. It is not difficult to

  understand where Abrahms came from and why he

  is what he is, but it is frightening to think about

  where he is going. He is a fanatic with no sense of

  balance or compromise where other peoples with

  identical aspirations are concerned. If a man has a

  different stripe, whether of the same species or not,

  he is the enemy. Armed force takes precedence

  over negotiations in all matters, and even those in

  Israel who plead for more moderate stands based

  on totally secure borders are branded as traitors.

  Abrahms is an imperialist who sees an

  ever-expanding Isra
el as the ruling kingdom of the

  entire Middle East. An appropriate ending to this

  report is a comment he made after the well-known

  statement issued by the Prime Minister during the

  Lebanon invasion: "We covet not one inch of

  Lebanon." Abrahms' reply in the field to his

  troops the majority by no means sympathetic was

  the following.

  "Certainly not an inch! The whole damned

  country! Then Gaza, the Golan, and the West Bank!

  And why not Jordan, then Syria and Iraq! We have

  the means and we have the willi We are the mighty

  children of Abraham!"

  He is Delavane's key in the volatile Middle East.

  It was nearly noon, the overhead sun beating

  down on the small balcony beyond the French

  doors. The late-breakfast remnants had been

  cleared away by room service; only a silver pot

  remained on the hunt table. They had been

  reading for hours since the first coffee was

  brought to

  THE AQUITAINE PROGRESSION 265

  the suite at six-thirty. Converse put down the dossier,

  and reached for his cigarettes on the table by the

  armchair. It is not cliff cult to understand where

  Abrahms came from . . . but it is frightening to think

  about where he is going. Joel looked over at Connal

  Fitzpatrick, who was seated on the couch, leaning

  forward over the coffee table and reading a single

  page while making notes on the telephone message

  pad; the Bertholdier and LeifLelm dossiers were in

  two neat piles on his left. The Navy lawyer had said

  practically the same words to him, thought Converse,

  lighting a cigarette. I'm beginning to see where you're

  coming from.... The inherent question put to Joel's

  legal mind was simple: Where was he himself going?

  He hoped to hell he knew. Was he an inept gladiator

  marching into a Roman arena facing far stronger,

  better-armed and superior talent? Or were the

  demons from his own past turning him into his own

  sacrifice, leading him into the arena's hot sand where

  angry, half-starved cats waited, ready to pounce and

  tear him apart? So many questions, so many

  variables he was incapable of addressing. He only

  knew he could not turn back.

  Fitzpatrick looked up. "What's the matter?" he

  asked, obviously aware that Converse was staring in

  his direction. "You worried about the admiral?"

  "Who?"

  "Hickman, San Diego."

  "Among other things. In the clear light of day,

  you're sure he bought the extension?"

  "No guarantees, but I told you he said he'll call

  me if any emergency heat came down. I'm damn

  sure he won't do anything before consulting me. If

  he tries to reach me, Meagen knows what to do and

  I'll lean harder. If need be, I'll claim point of

  personal privilege and demand a meeting with those

  unnamed people in the Fifth District, maybe go so

  far as to imply they could be part of Geneva. That'd

  be a full circle. We could end up with a

  standoff the release of that flag only with a

  full-scale investigation of the circumstances. Irony

  and standoff."

  "You won't have a standoff if he's with them.

  He'll override you."

  "If he was with them, he wouldn't have told

  Remington he was going to call me. He wouldn't

  have said anything; he'd have waited the extra day

  and let it go. I know him. He wasn't just nonplussed,

  he was mad. He stands by his people and he

  266 ROBERT LUDIUM

  doesn't like outside pressures, especially Navy

  pressures. We're on hold, and as long as it's hold,

  the flag's in place. I told you, he's a lot angrier with

  Norfolk than with me. They won't even give him a

  reason; they claim they can't."

  Converse nodded. ' AII right," he said. "Call it a

  case of nerves on my part. I just finished the

  Abrahms dossier. That maniac could blow up the

  whole Middle East all by himself and drag the rest

  of us in with him.... What did you think of Leifhelm

  and Bertholdier?"

  "As far as the information goes, they're

  everything you said and then some. They're more

  than just influential ex-generals with fistfuls of

  money, they're powerful rallying symbols for what a

  lot of people think are justifiable extremes. That's as

  far as the information goes but the operative word

  for me is the information itself. Where did it come

  from?"

  "That's a step back. It's there."

  "It sure is, but how? You say Beale gave it to

  you, that Press used the phrase 'we' 'the ones we're

  after,' 'the tools we can give you,' 'the connections

  as we think they are.' "

  "And we went over this," insisted Joel. "The man

  in San Francisco, the one he went to who provided

  the five hundred thousand and told him to build

  cases against these people legally, and together

  they'd turn them into plain and simple profiteers.

  It's the ultimate ridicule for superpatriots. It's sound

  reasoning, counselor, and that's the we."

  "Press and this unknown man in San Francisco?"

  "Yes."

  "And they could pick up a phone and hire

  someone to put together these?" Fitzpatrick gestured

  at the two dossiers on his left.

  "Why not? This is in the age of the computer.

  Nobody today lives on an unmapped island or in an

  undiscovered cave."

  "These," said Connal, "are not computer

  printouts. They're well-researched, detailed, in-depth

  dossiers that take in the importance of political

  nuances and personal idiosyncrasies."

  "You have a way with words, sailor. Yes, they

  are. A man who can forward half a million dollars

  to the right bank on an Aegean island can hire just

  about anyone he likes."

  "He can't hire these."

  "What does that mean?"

  "Let me take a real step back," said the Navy lawyer,

  get

  THE AQUITAINE PROGRESSION 267

  tiny to his feet and reaching down for the single page

  he had been reading. "I won't reiterate the details of

  my relationship with Press because right now it hurts

  a little to think about it." Fitzpatrick paused, seeing

  the look in Converse's eyes that rejected this kind of

  sentimentality in their discussion. "Don't mistake

  me," he continued. "It's not his death, not the funer-

  al; it s the other way around. It's not the Press

  Halliday I knew. You see, I don't think he told us

  the truth, either you or me."

  "Then you know something I don't know," said

  Converse quietly.

  "I know there's no man in San Francisco that

  even vaguely fits the description of the image he

  gave you. I've lived there all my life, including

  Berkeley and Stanford, just like Press. I knew

  everyone he knew, especially the wealthiest and the

  more exotic ones; we never held back on those with

  each other. I was leg
al worlds away, and he always

  filled me in if new ones came along. It was part of

  the fun for him."

  '`That's tenuous, counselor. I'm sure he kept

  certain associations to himself."

  ' Not those kinds," said Connal. "It wouldn't be

  like him. Not with me."

  "Well, I "

  ' Now let me step forward," interrupted

  Fitzpatrick. "These dossiers I haven't seen them

  before, but I've seen hundreds like them, maybe a

  couple of thousand on their way to becoming

  full-fledged versions of them."

  Joel sat up. "Please explain that, Commander."

  "You just hit it, Lieutenant. The rank says it."

  "Says what?"

  "Those dossiers are the reworked, finished

  products of intelligence probes utilizing heavy shots

  of military data. They've been bounced around the

  community, each branch contributing its input from

  straight biographical data to past surveillances to

  psychiatric evaluation and put together by teams of

  specialists. Those were taken from way down in the

  government vaults and rewritten with current

  additions and conclusions, then shaped to appear as

  the work of an outside nongovernment authority. But

  they're not. They've got Classified, Top Secret, and

  Eyes Only written all over them."

  Converse leaned forward. "That could be a

  subjective judgment based on limited familiarity. I've

  seen some very detailed, very in-depth reports put

  together by high-priced firms specialising in that sort

  of thing."

  268 ROBERT IUDLUM

  "Describing precise military incidents during the

  time of war? Pinpointing bombing raids and

  specifying regiments and battalions and the current

  strategies employed? Detailing through interviews

 

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