Robert Ludlum - Aquatain Progression.txt

Home > Other > Robert Ludlum - Aquatain Progression.txt > Page 76
Robert Ludlum - Aquatain Progression.txt Page 76

by The Aquitaine Progression [lit]


  But Roger's there." Valerie s face paled. "Oh, my

  God!"

  "What?"

  "I've been trying to call him! Two days ago, then

  yesterday and again today!"

  "Coddamn it!" In the distance there were the

  lights of a bay-front cafe. Joe} spoke rapidly, giving

  an order that could not be disobeyed. "I don't care

  how you do it, but you call Cape Ann! You come

  back here and tell me my father's all right, do you

  understand?"

  "Yes. Because I want to hear it, too."

  Converse skidded to a stop in front of the cafe,

  knowing he should not have done so, but not caring.

  Valerie rushed out of the car, her purse open, her

  telephone credit card in her hand. If there was a

  phone on the premises, she would use it; no one

  could stop her. Joel lit a cigarette; the smoke was

  acrid, stinging his throat; it was no relief. He stared

  out at the dark water, at the lights spanning the

  bridge in the distance trying not to think. It was no

  use. What had he done? His father knew his

  handwriting, and the instant he recognized it he

  would rip open the envelope. He would be looking

  for exculpation for his son and he would find it. He

  would undoubtedly call Nathan Simon

  immediately and therein was the horrible

  possibility. Val would know enough from the mate-

  rial itself to say little or nothing on the phone, but

  not his father, not Roger. He would blurt out

  everything in a frenzy of anger and defense of his

  son. And if others were listening on that line....

  Where was Val? She was taking too long!

  Converse could not stop himself. He cracked the

  handle of the door and leaped out of the car. He

  raced toward the entrance of the cafe, then stopped

  abruptly on the gravel. Valerie walked out, gesturing

  for him to back away. He could see the tears rolling

  down her cheeks.

  THE AQUITAINE PROGRESSION 489

  'Get in the car," she said, approaching him.

  "No. Tell me what happened. Now."

  "Please, Joel, get back in the car. Two men in

  there kept watching me while I was on the phone. I

  spoke Cerman, but they knew I was placing a call to

  the States, and they saw I was upset. I think they

  recognizedme. We have to get out of here."

  "Tell me what happened!"

  "In the car." Valerie tossed her head to the side,

  her dark hair flying over her shoulder as she brushed

  away her tears, and walked past Converse to the

  automobile. She opened the door and got in, sitting

  motionless in the seat.

  "Goddamn you!" Trembling, Converse ran to

  the car, jumped in behind the wheel and started the

  engine, slamming the door shut as he pulled on the

  gearshift. Turning the wheel, he backed up, then shot

  forward into the road, the tires spinning on the

  border of gravel. He kept his foot on the accelerator

  until the dark scenery outside was a racing blur.

  "Slow down," said Val simply, without emphasis.

  "You'll only call attention to us."

  He could barely hear her through his panic, but

  he heard the order. He eased his foot off the pedal.

  'He's dead, isn't he?"

  ' Yes."

  ' Oh, Christ! What happened? What did they

  tell you? Whom did you talk to?"

  "A neighbor, the name's not important. We have

  keys to each other's house. She volunteered to take

  in the newspapers and check the place until the

  police reached me. She happened to be there when

  I called. I asked her if there was a large envelope

  sent from Germany in the pile of mail. She said

  there wasn't."

  'The police? What happened?"

  "You know my house is on the beach. There's a

  jetty of rocks about a hundred yards up-water. It's

  not large or long really, just some kind of marking

  from years ago "

  "Tell me!" shouted Joel, gripping the wheel.

  "They say he must have gone for a walk last

  night, went out on the jetty and slipped on the wet

  rocks. There was a large bruise on his head. His

  body was washed up onshore and found this

  morning."

  "Lies! Lies! They heard him! They went after

  himI"

  490 ROBERT LUDLUM

  "My telephone? On the plane over here I

  thought about that. '

  "You would, he wouldn't! I killed him. Goddamn

  it, I killed him!"

  ' No more than I did,Joel," insisted the ex-Mrs.

  Converse, touching his arm, wincing at the sight of

  tears in his eyes. ' And I loved him very much. You

  and I left each other, but he was still a very ~ lose

  friend, perhaps my closest."

  "He called you 'Valley,'" said Joel, choking,

  trying to push back the pain. "The bastards!

  Bastards!"

  "Do you want me to drive?"

  "No!"

  "The telephone I have to ask you I thought the

  police or the FBI or people like that might get a

  court order.'

  "Of course they would! It s why I knew I couldn

  t call you. I was going to call Nate Simon."

  "But you're not talking about the police or the

  FBI. You're talking about someone else, some thing

  else."

  "Yes. No one knows who they are where they

  are. But they're there. And they can do whatever

  they want to do. Jesusl Even Dad! That's what's so

  goddamned frightening."

  "And that s what you re going to tell me about,

  isn t it?" said Valerie, gripping his arm.

  "Yes. A few minutes ago I was going to hold

  back and not tell you everything, instead try to

  convince you to get Nate to fly over here so we

  could meet and he could see I wasn't crazy. But not

  now. There's no time now; they're cutting off every

  outlet. They've got the envelope it was all I had!

  . . . I'm sorry, Val, but I am going to tell you

  everything. I wish to God I didn t have to for your

  sake but like you, I don't have a choice anymore."

  "I didn't come over here to give you a choice.

  He drove into the field near the water's edge

  and stopped the car. The grass was high, the moon

  a bright crescent over the bay, the lights of

  Amsterdam in the distance. They got out and he led

  her to the darkest spot he could find, holding her

  hand, suddenly realizir g that he had not held her

  hand in years the touch, the gyp, so comfortable,

  so much a part of them. He repelled the thought; he

  was a provider of death.

  "Here, I guess," he said, releasing her hand.

  "All right." She lowered herself gracefully, like a

  dancer,

  THE AQUITAINE PROGRESSION 491

  and sat down on the soft grass, pushing the reeds

  aside. 'How do you feel?" she asked.

  'Awful," said Joel, looking up at the dark sky. "I

  meant what I said. I killed him. All the years of

  trying his trying, my trying and I end up killing

  him. If I'd only let him alone, let him be himself, no
t

  someone I wanted him to be, he'd probably be

  drinking up a storm somewhere thousands of miles

  away, telling his crazy stories, making everyone

  laugh. But not in your house at Cape Ann

  yesterday."

  "You didn't force him to fly back from Hong Kong,

  Joel. '

  "Oh, hell, not by pleading or giving him an order,

  if that's what you mean. But the order was there

  nevertheless. After Mother died it was the unspoken

  words between us. 'Grow up, Dad! Have your little

  trips but don't stay away so long people worry. Be

  responsible, father mine.' Christ, I was so fucking

  holier than thou! And I end up killing him."

  "You didn't kill him! Others did! Now, tell me

  about them."

  Converse swallowed, brushing the tears from his

  eyes. "Yes, you're right there isn't time, even for

  old Roger."

  "There'll be time later."

  "If there's a later," said Joel, breathing deeply,

  finding control. "You know about Rene, don't you?"

  "Yes, I read about it yesterday. I was sick.... Larry

  Talbot told me that you saw him in Paris. How even

  Rene thought you were disturbed, as Larry did when

  you talked to him. And Rene was killed for seeing

  you. Larry must be going out of his mind."

  "That's not the reason Rene was killed. Let's talk

  about Larry. The first time I reached him I needed

  information without asking him directly. He was

  being used because of me, followed, and he didn't

  know it. If I'd told him, the jock in him would have

  reacted, and he'd have been shot down in the street.

  But the last time I spoke with him I walked into it.

  I'd broken away from the people who d caught

  me I was exhausted, still frightened, and I was open

  with him. I told him everything."

  "He mentioned it to me," interrupted Val. "He

  said you were reliving your experiences in North

  Vietnam. There was a psychiatric term for it '

  Converse shook his head, a short, derisive laugh

  emerging from his throat. "Isn t there always? I

  suppose there were similarities and I m sure I

  alluded to them, but that's all they

  492 ROBERT lUDtUN1

  were, similarities.... didn't hear what I was saying.

  He was listening for words that confirmed what

  others had said about me, what he believed was

  true. He pretended to be the friend I knew but he

  wasn't. He was a lawyer trying to convince a client

  that he was sick, that for everyone's safety the client

  should turn himself in. When I realized what he was

  doing and that l d told him where I was, I knew

  he'd spread the word, thinking he was doing the

  right thing. I just wanted to get out of there, so I

  halfway agreed with him, hung up, and ran.... I was

  lucky. Twenty minutes later I saw a car drive up in

  front of the hotel with two of my would-be

  executioners."

  "You're sure of that?"

  Joel nodded. 'Y'he next day one of them stated

  for the record that he'd seen me at the Adenauer

  Bridge with Walter Peregrine. I wasn't anywhere

  near that bridge at least I don't think so, I don't

  know where it is."

  ~ "I read that story in the Times. The man was

  an Army officer, a major from the embassy named

  Washburn."

  "That's right." Converse broke off a long blade

  of grass, twisting it, tearing it in his fingers. 'They're

  great at manipulating the media newspapers, radio,

  television. Every word they put out is cleansed

  through channels, branded authentic official. They

  take out lives as if people were pieces in a chess

  game, including their own. They don't care; they

  only want to win. And it's the biggest game in

  modern history. The terrifying thing is that they can

  win it."

  "Joel, do you know what you're saying? An

  American ambassador, the supreme commander of

  NATO, Rene, your father . . . you. Then killers in

  the embassy, a manipulated press, lies out of

  Washington, Paris, Bonn all given official status.

  You're describing some kind of Anschluss, some de-

  monic, political takeover!"

  Converse looked at her in the moonlight, the

  breezes off the water bending the tall grass. "That's

  exactly what it is, conceived by one man and run by

  a handful of others, all completely sincere in their

  beliefs and as persuasive as any group of

  professionals I've ester heard. But the bottom line

  is that they're fanatics, killers in a quest they

  consider nothing less than holy. They've

  recruited are recruiting like-minded men

  everywhere, other frustrated professionals who think

  there's nowhere else to turn. They grab at the

  theories and the promises, accepting accepting,

  hell, extolling the

  THE AQUITAINE PROGRESSION 493

  myths of efficiency and discipline and self-sacrifice,

  because they know it leads to power. Power to

  replace the inefficient, the undisciplined, the c

  orrupters and the corrupted. They're blind; they can't

  see beyond their own distorted image of

  themselves.... If that sounds like a summation it

  probably is. I haven't slept much, but I do a lot of

  thinking. '

  'The jury's still in place, Joel, ' said Valerie, her

  eyes alive, again levered at his. "I don't want a

  summation, I want it all. I think you should begin at

  the beginning where it began for you."

  "Okay. It started in Geneva '

  "I knew it,' interrupted Val, whispering.

  "What?"

  "Nothing. Go on."

  "With a man I hadn't seen in twenty-three years.

  I knew him by one name then, but in Geneva he was

  using another. He explained it and it didn't matter.

  Except that it was a little eerie. I didn't know how

  eerie it was, or how much he didn't explain, or how

  many lies he told me in order to manipulate me. The

  hell of it is he did what he did for all the right

  reasons. I was the man they needed. They. And I

  don't know who they are, only that they're there,

  somewhere.... As long as I live however long I'm

  permitted I'll never forget the words he used when

  he reached the core of why he had come to Geneva.

  'They're beck,' he said. 'The generals are back.'"

  He told her everything, allowing his mind and his

  thoughts to wander, to include every detail he could

  recall. The countdown was in progress. In a matter of

  days or at best a week or two there would be

  eruptions of violence everywhere like what was

  taking place in Northern Ireland right now.

  'Accumulations,' they said. 'Rapid acceleration!'

  Only, no one knew who or what or where the targets

  were. George Marcus Delavane was the madman

  who conceived it all, and other powerful madmen

  were listening to him, following his orders, moving

  into positions from which they would leap for the

  contro
ls. Everywhere

  Finally he was finished, a part of him in anguish,

  knowing that if she was caught by the soldiers of

  Aquitaine, the narcotics inserted in her body would

  reveal the information that would result in her death.

  He said as much when he had finished, wanting

  desperate! v to breach the space between them and

  hold her, telling her how much he hated himself for

  doing what he knew he had to do. But he made no

  move toward

  494 ROBERT LUDLUM

  her; her eyes told him not to; she was evaluating,

  thinking things out for herself.

  "Sometimes," she said quietly, 'when the dreams

  would come, or you drank too much, you'd talk

  about this Delavane. You d become so panicked

  you'd tremble and close your eyes and every now

  and then you'd scream. You hated that man so.

  You were also frightened to death of him."

  "He caused' a lot of death, unnecessary death.

  Kids . . . children in grown-up uniforms who didn't

  know that Bung ho meant search and destroy and

  get blown apart."

  "There's no way you could be what do they call

  it transferring your emotions?"

  "If you believe that, I'll drive you back to the

  Amstel and you can fly home in the morning and go

  back to your easels. I'm not crazy, Val. I'm here

  and it's happening."

  "All right, I had to ask. You didn't live through

  some of those nights, I did. You were either

  crashing into the bed or so scratched by a bottle you

  didn't know where you were:"

 

‹ Prev