Robert Ludlum - Aquatain Progression.txt

by The Aquitaine Progression [lit]

  The laughter grew again and then rapidly began

  to subside. Joel took the cue. "Sometimes I speak

  too frankly, General," he said. 'I should learn better,

  but, believe me, no insult was intended. I have

  nothing but admiration for your stated positions,

  your policies."

  "And that's precisely what we shall discuss," said

  Erich Leifhelm, drawing everyone's attention.

  "Positions, policies, overall philosophy, if you will.

  We will stay as far away from specifics as we can,

  although a few will undoubtedly intrude. However,

  it is our approach to the larger abstractions that

  count. Come, Mr. Converse, have a chair. Let us

  begin our conference, the first of many, I trust."

  Rear Admiral Hickman slowly put down the

  transcript on his desk, and looked aimlessly past his

  propped-up feet out the window at the ocean under

  a grey sky. He crossed his. arms, lowered his head

  and frowned. He was as bewildered now as he had

  been when he first read the transcript, as convinced

  now as he was then that Remington's con-

  clusions conclusion, really was off the mark. But

  then the legal officer was too young to have any real

  knowledge of the events as they had actually

  happened; no one who had not been there could

  really understand. Too many others did; it was the

  reason for the flag, but it made no sense to apply

  that reasoning to this Converse eighteen years later.

  It was exhuming a corpse that had died from a fever,

  whether the shell of a man lived on or not. It had to

  be something else.

  Hickman looked at his watch, unfolded his arms

  and removed his feet from the edge of the table. It

  was three-ten in Norfolk; he reached for the

  telephone.

  "Hello, Brian," said Rear Admiral Scanlon of the

  Fifth Naval District. "I want you to know how much

  we appreciate SAND PAC's help in this thing."

  "SAND PAC's?" asked Hickman, bemused that

  no credit was given to the State Department.

  "All right, Admiral, your help. I owe you one, old

  Hicky."

  "Start paying by dropping that name."

  "Hey, come on, don't you remember the hockey

  games?

  282 ROBERT LUDEUM

  You'd come racing up the ice and the whole cadet

  corps would shout: 'Here comes Hicky! Here comes

  Hicky!' "

  "May I unblock my ears now?"

  "I'm just trying to thank you, pal."

  "That s just it, I m not sure for what? Have you

  read the transcript?"

  "Naturally."

  'What the hell s there?"

  Well," answered Scanlon tentatively. PI read it

  pretty quickly. It's been an awful day and, frankly,

  I just passed it on. What do you think is there?

  Between you and me, I'd like to know, because I

  barely had time to skim through it."

  What do I think is there? Absolutely nothing.

  Oh, sure, we kept Hags on stuff like that back then

  because the White House passed the order to put a

  lid on officially recorded criticism and we all went

  along. Also we were pretty sick and tired of it

  ourselves. But there's nothing in that transcript that

  hasn't been heard before, or that has any value for

  anyone but military historians a hundred years from

  now as a very small footnote."

  Swell," said Scanlon, even more tentatively, ' this

  Converse had some pretty harsh things to say about

  Command-Saigon."

  About Mad Marcus? Christ, I said worse during

  the Force-Tonkin conferences and my CO did me

  ten times better. We ferried in those kids up and

  down the coast when all they were ready for was a

  day at the beach with hot dogs and Ferris wheels....

  I don't get it. You and my legal zero in on the same

  thing, and I think it's old hat and discredited. Mad

  Marcus is a relic."

  Your who?"

  My legal exec. I told you about him, Remington."

  Oh, yes. The stickler prick."

  .He picked up on the Saigon thing too. 'That's

  it,' he said. It's in those remarks. It's Delavane.' He

  wasn't around to know Delavane was fair game for

  every antiwar group in the country. Hell, we gave

  him the name Mad Marcus. No, it's not Delavane,

  it's something else. Perhaps it's in those escapes,

  specifically Converse's last escape. Maybe there's

  some MIA input we don't know about."

  `Well," repeated the admiral in Norfolk for the

  third time, but now far less tentatively. You may

  have something there, but it doesn't concern us.

  Look, I'll be honest with you.

  THE AQUITAINE PROGRESSION 283

  I didn't want to say anything because I didn t want

  you to think you went to a lot of trouble for nothing,

  but the word I get is that the whole thing is a

  bust-negative."

  "Oh?" said Hickman, suddenly listening very

  carefully. "How so?"

  'lt's the wrong man. Apparently an

  overenthusiastic JG was doing some digging in the

  same time period, the same general circumstances.

  He saw the flag and drew six wrong conclusions. I

  hope he enjoys taking five A.M. muster."

  "And that's it?" asked SAND PAC's admiral,

  controlling his astonishment.

  "That's the feedback we get here. Whatever your

  CLO had in mind hasn't anything to do with our

  people."

  Hickman could not believe what he was hearing.

  Of course Scanlon had not mentioned the State

  Department's efforts. He knew nothing about them!

  He was quickly putting as much distance between

  himself and the Converse flag as he could, Iying

  because he had not been told. State was working

  quietly probably through Cons Op and Scanlon

  had no reason to think "old Hicky" knew a damn

  thing about Bonn or Converse or Connal

  Fitzpatrick's whereabouts. Or about a man named

  Preston Halliday who had been murdered in Geneva.

  What was happening? He would not find out from

  Scanlon. Nor did he care to.

  "To hell with it, then. My CLO will be back in

  three or four days and maybe I'll learn something."

  "Whatever it is, it's back in your sandbox,

  Aclmiral. My people had the wrong man."

  "Your people couldn't navigate a row boat in the

  D.C. Reflecting Pool."

  "Can't blame you for that, Hicky."

  Hickman hung up the phone and resumed his

  standard position when in thought, gazing beyond his

  propped-up shoes at the ocean. The sun was trying to

  break through the overcast without much success.

  He had never liked Scanlon for reasons too petty

  to examine. Except one; he knew Scanlon was a liar.

  What he had not known was that he was such a

  stupid liar.

  Lieutenant David Remington was flattered by the

  call. The well-known four-striper had invited him to

  lunch not only invited him but had apologized for

  the lateness of the invitation and told him that it was />
  perfectly understandable

  284 ROBERT LUDIUM

  if it was inconvenient. Further, the captain wanted

  him to know that the call was of a personal nature,

  having nothing to do with naval business. The

  high-ranking officer, a resident of La Jolla, was in

  port for only a few days and needed legal advice.

  He had been told that Lieutenant Remington was

  just about the best lawyer in the United States

  Navy. Would the lieutenant accept?

  Of course Remington had made it perfectly

  clear that whatever advice he might offer would be

  offered on the basis of amicus-amicae; no

  remuneration could possibly be considered, as that

  would be a violation of Statute . . .

  'May I buy you lunch, Lieutenant, or do we have

  to split the check?" the four-striper had

  asked somewhat impatiently, thought Remington.

  The restaurant was high in the hills above La

  Jolla, an out-of-the-way roadside inn that apparently

  catered to diners of the area and those from San

  Diego and University City who did not care to be

  seen together in the usual places. Remington had

  not been too pleased; he would have preferred

  being seen at the Coronado with the captain than

  traveling ten miles north so as no! to be seen in the

  hills of La Jolla. Nevertheless, the four-striper had

  been politely adamant) it was where he wanted to

  meet. David had checked him out. The much

  decorated captain not only was in line for

  promotion but was considered a potential candidate

  for the Joint Chiefs of Staff. Remington would have

  ridden a bicycle on the exposed Alaskan pipeline to

  keep the appointment.

  Which was exactly what he thought he was

  doing, as he spun the steering wheel right, then left,

  then right and right again as he made his way up

  the steep narrow roads. It was important to keep in

  mind, he thought, as he whipped the car to the left,

  that personal advice was nevertheless professional

  advice, and without payment of any sort whatsoever,

  it constituted a debt that would one day be

  acknowledged. And if a man was elevated to the

  Joint Chiefs . . . Remington could not help it: in a

  glow of self-importance he had let drop to a fellow

  legal officer the one who had coined the name

  "stickler prick" that he was lunching with a highly

  regarded four-striper in La Jolla and might be late

  returning to the office. Then to drive his point

  home, he had asked his associate for directions.

  Oh, my Godl What was it? Oh, my God ~

  At the apex of the hairpin curve was an enormous

  black

  THE AQUITAINE PROGRESSION 285

  rig, thirty feet in length, and out of control. It

  weaved right and left on the narrow incline, its speed

  gathering with every foot, measured in racing yards,

  a black behemoth swerving, crashing down on

  everything in front of it, a wild beast gone mad!

  Remington whipped his head to his right as he

  spun the wheel to avoid impact. There were only thin

  trunks of young trees and saplings in late-summer

  bloom; below was a floral abyss. These were the last

  images he saw as the car careened on its side and

  began the plunge.

  Far above on another hill a man kneeled,

  binoculars raised to his face as the explosion below

  confirmed the kill. His expression was one of neither

  joy nor sadness, merely acceptance. A mission had

  been accomplished. After all, it was war.

  And Lieutenant David Remington, whose life was

  so ordered and orderly, who knew exactly where he

  was going and how in this world, who knew above all

  that he would never be trapped by the forces that

  had killed his father in the name of corporate policy,

  was put to death by the policy of a company he had

  never heard of. An enterprise called Aquitaine. He

  had seen the name Delavane.

  Their view is that it's the pro per evolution of

  current history, all other ideologies having failed.... The

  words spoken by Preston Halliday in Geneva kept

  repeating themselves in Converse's inner ear as he

  listened to the four voices of Aquitaine. The

  frightening thing was that they believed what they

  said without equivocation, morally and intellectually,

  their convictions rooted in observations going back

  decades, their arguments persuasive as they

  illuminated past global mistakes of judgment that

  resulted in horrible suffering and unnecessary loss of

  life.

  The simple objective of their coming

  together allies and former enemies alike was to

  bring benevolent order to a world in chaos, to permit

  the industrial states to flourish for the good of all

  people, spreading the strengths and benefits of

  multinational trade to the impoverished,

  uncommitted Third World and, by so doing, secure

  its commitment. Only in this way, in this coming

  together, could Communism be stopped stopped

  and reversed until it collapsed under the sheer force

  of superior armed might and financial resources.

  To bring all this about required a shift in values and

  prior

  286 ROBERT WDLUM

  ities.Industrial decisions everywhere must be

  coordinated to bring about the total strength of the

  free states. Government treasuries, multinational

  corporations and giant conglomerates must look to

  a stratum of interlocking committees, agree to be

  directed by these committees, to accept their deci-

  sions which would in effect be their respective

  governments' decisions each keeping the others

  apprised of its current agenda. What was this

  ultimate stratum of negotiators? Who would be the

  members of these committees that would in effect

  speak for the free nations and set their policiesP

  Throughout history only one class of people

  remained constant in its excellence, who when

  called upon in Ames of crisis performed far beyond

  human expectations even in defeat. The reasons for

  this segment's unique contributions in war and

  even in peace, though to a lesser degree were his-

  torically clear: these men were selfless.. They

  belonged to a class trained to serve without thought

  of reward except for the recognition of excellence.

  Wealth was irrelevant because their needs were

  furnished and perquisites granted only through the

  outstanding performance of duty.

  In the new order this class of people would not

  be subject to the corruptions of the marketplace. In

  reality it was unusually well equipped to deal with

  such corruptions, for it could not be touched by

  them. The mere presence of any illegally gained

  wealth within its ranks would instantly be recognised

  and condemned, resulting in courts-martial. This

  class of society, this novel branch of the human

  race, was not only incorrupUble at the high
est

  levels, it would be the ultimate savior of mankind as

  we know it today.

  It was the military. The world over, even

  encompassing one's enemies. Together even as

  enemies they best understood the catastrophic

  results of weakness.

  To be sure, certain minor liberties would

  perforce have to be withheld from the body politic,

  but these were small sacrifices for survival. Who

  could argue?

  None of the four spokesmen for Aquitaine

  raised his voice. They were the quiet prophets of

  reason, each with his own history, his own identity

  allies and enemies together in a world gone mad.

  Converse responded in the affirmative to

  everything that was said this was not difficult to

  do and asked abstract quesbons of philosophy, as

  he was expected to do. Even the court

  THE AQUITAINE PROGRESSION 287

  jester, Chaim Abrahms, became deeply serious and

  answered Converses questions quietly

  At one point Abrahms said, "You think we Jews

  are the only ones in the Diaspora, my friend? You

  are wrong. The whole human race is dispersed

  everywhere, all of us locking rams' horns and not

  knowing where to go. Certain rabbis claim we Jews

  shall not see salvation until the Messianic era, the

  time of divine redemption when a god will appear to

  show us the way to our own promised land. He was

  far too late arriving we could not wait for Him any

  longer. We created Israel. Do you see the lesson?

  We we here are now the divine intervention on

  earth. And I even I, a man of accomplishment and

  ego will give up my life in silence so we may