(1989) The Guest of Honour

by Irving Wallace

‘Then what happened?’ Marsop asked.

  ‘It felt like we went down in a garage like ours. They pulled me out of the car. We went through a door to stairs. They helped me go up the stairs.’

  ‘One flight? Two?’

  ‘Two flights. I counted the steps. They pushed me into a room. When I was inside they took the blindfold off.’

  ‘Tell me what you saw,’ said Marsop. ‘Try to remember, Den.’

  ‘Four men in the room, in uniforms.’

  ‘Did you recognise any of them?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Did they use each other’s names?’

  ‘No, they were quiet, except for one of them. He asked for Mother’s private number. He said he’d kill me if I didn’t give it to them. I gave it, and he went into the next room to call.’

  ‘Yes, I answered the call,’ said Marsop. ‘It was for your mother to go to see you alone.’

  ‘Then they tied the blindfold back on and took me down the stairs to what I guess was the garage. We drove around many corners. Then we stopped, and they dragged me out and put me behind some trees, until the blindfold was untied. Then I saw Mother.’

  Marsop sighed. ‘And they took her away. And made you run off.’

  ‘Yes. Why did they want Mother?’

  Marsop stared at the telephone on Noy’s desk. ‘I expect we’ll know soon enough.’

  They sat talking about inconsequentials, about school, Den’s classes, and soccer football — although Den was worried about his mother.

  When the white phone on Noy’s desk rang, they both started.

  Marsop went quickly behind Noy’s desk, perched on the front of her swivel chair, and lifted the receiver.

  ‘President Noy’s office,’ he said.

  ‘This is Noy,’ the strained voice on the other end said.

  ‘Thank God it’s you!’ exclaimed Marsop. ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘I’m fine. The important thing is Den. Did he return safely?’

  ‘He’s with me now. Unharmed.’

  ‘Tell him I love him.’

  Marsop called over the telephone to Den. ‘Your mother sends her love. She says she’s all right. Noy, is anyone listening to you?’

  ‘Yes and no. In the room, not on an extension.’

  ‘Do you recognise anyone?’

  There was a silence.

  Marsop pressed on. ‘Is Colonel Chavalit one of them?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You’re kidnapped?’

  Noy hesitated. ‘I’m told I’m being held in custody.’

  Marsop could hear an indistinct male voice from somewhere beyond Noy.

  Immediately she said to someone, ‘Yes, yes, I will hurry. Marsop -‘

  ‘I’m listening.’

  ‘I’ll be released,’ said Noy, but there is a condition. You must do what they want you to do. With my approval, of course.’

  ‘Go on,’ said Marsop anxiously.

  ‘You must announce on television and to the press that I will not run for election,’ said Noy. ‘Because of poor health,’ she added. ‘You will inform General Nakorn that as president, I have ordered a special election to be held a week from today. Do you have that right?’

  ‘I’m afraid so,’ said Marsop dully. ‘You will not run for election against Nakorn because of ill health. I am to call him and tell him it is your wish a special election be held in one week. When am I to do this, Noy?’

  ‘Now,’ said Noy. ‘Call General Nakorn right now about the election. Arrange to appear on prime time on television tomorrow evening with a short statement that I am in the hands of my physicians.’

  ‘When will you be released?’

  ‘The day after the election,’ said Noy.

  Marsop wondered if he dared say more. ‘Is there anything else you want me to do?’

  ‘It would be good if you could get someone from the

  outside to visit the palace and confirm to the world that -‘ She paused ‘— that I am sick.’

  ‘Someone?’ Marsop echoed. ‘Who?’

  That instant the telephone rang off.

  Marsop put down the receiver slowly.

  He was on his own and afraid.

  There were calls he had been instructed to make, but there was one he must make before any of the others.

  Because he had understood Noy. He knew who the someone was. The person who must come visiting.

  Immediately, he picked up the telephone again.

  In Beijing, President Underwood sat in the front row of the Great Hall of the People with members of the Chinese Politburo Standing Committee.

  He had just finished delivering his speech, a successful one, he thought, when he saw Ezra Morrison hastening along the front row towards him.

  Morrison came before him, knelt, and said, ‘Mr. President, there’s a long-distance call for you.’

  ‘Washington?’

  ‘No, Lampang.’

  ‘Who’s calling? Noy?’

  ‘It’s Minister Marsop. He says it is extremely urgent.’

  Underwood came to his feet immediately, worried. ‘Where do I take the call?’

  Apologising to those around him, he followed Morrison out of the Hall to a side door where a Chinese official was waiting for them.

  The three hurried to a small room, empty except for a table and chair, with a telephone on the table. The receiver was off the hook. Underwood picked it up. ‘Marsop?’

  ‘Yes, Mr. President. I’m sorry to interrupt, but I must speak to you. About Noy. She -‘

  The telephone went dead.

  Underwood showed his irritation. ‘Disconnected.’

  The Chinese official took the phone, punched a button,

  reached someone, presumably the operator, and began to speak in Chinese.

  At last he hung up. ‘If you will wait here, Mr. President, the operator will try to get you the caller in Lampang again.’

  ‘Je-sus,’ Underwood said to Morrison, ‘what can that be? Well, not a thing to do but wait.’

  ‘I’m sure it’ll only be a minute,’ said Morrison.

  It was five minutes more than a minute when the telephone pealed again.

  Underwood snatched up the receiver. ‘Marsop?’

  ‘I am here again.’

  ‘You were beginning to mention Noy.’ Underwood waved Morrison and the Chinese official out of the room, and when the door was closed, he clutched the phone tightly. ‘Marsop, is anything wrong?’

  ‘Something is wrong, yes.’

  ‘We are not on a safe line. Does it matter?’

  ‘I cannot go into details. But I have spoken to Noy. She could not speak freely, except one thing. She wanted me to get in touch with you. I was afraid to interrupt, but -‘

  ‘You did the right thing,’ said Underwood. ‘Noy can’t speak to me, yet you spoke to her. It makes no sense.’

  ‘You will understand when I can explain.’

  ‘You want me to come to Lampang?’

  ‘If possible, before you return to Washington. I will be here waiting in the palace for you. When you are here, I will explain everything in person. It is better.’

  Underwood felt a constriction in his chest. He did not like the sound of the call. He was gripped by anxiety.

  ‘Is this a matter I can do something about?’

  ‘I don’t know, Mr. President. At any rate, Noy seemed to think so. She feels you can be helpful.’

  ‘Then I’ll come there at once.’

  ‘When can I expect you, sir?’

  ‘Overnight,’ said Underwood. ‘I was going to leave China this evening. I still will. But I’ll come straight to Lampang, before going to Washington.’

  ‘We would be most grateful,’ said Marsop.

  ‘I gather this is really urgent.’

  ‘Yes, it is.’

  Underwood inhaled and then exhaled. ‘I’ll see you sometime in the morning.’

  He was immobile for half a moment, trying to imagine what was going on. He had a suspicion, yet
he wasn’t certain. But he was certain what was to be done next.

  He rose, left the room, and went into the corridor of the Great Hall, where Morrison was restlessly pacing.

  Morrison came to him at once. ‘What is it, Matt?’

  ‘I don’t know exactly. But something is wrong down there.’

  ‘Something urgent?’

  ‘Marsop left no doubt about that. I’m needed there as soon as possible.’

  ‘You mean you’re going to take Air Force One to Lampang before going to Washington?’

  Underwood took his secretary of state by the arm and moved him down the corridor.

  ‘I must do this,’ said Underwood. ‘I have no choice. It’s something I wanted to do anyway.’

  Morrison showed his dismay.- ‘It’s a drastic move, Matt. It screws up a lot of things. You’re expected in Washington.’

  ‘I’m also expected in Lampang. That gets top priority in my book.’

  ‘Well, you have an idea what is going on, and I don’t. So whatever you say.’

  ‘That’s what I say, Ezra. Lampang first. Look, you oversee our scheduled return. You and Blake get on the press plane and take off. Just go on as if nothing has happened. I’ll take Air Force One after that along with the Secret Service.’

  ‘There will be a lot of questions,’ Morrison said gloomily. ‘You insist on this, Matt?’

  ‘I insist on it,’ said Underwood.

  Hy Hasken had taken a taxi back to the Great Wall Hotel in Beijing, and in the privacy of his single room he put through a call to Sam Whitlaw at the offices of The National Television Network in New York City.

  Still suffering a hangover of jet lag from his endless flight to China, Hasken was mixed up about the time difference between Beijing and New York.

  When a night editor made him aware that he had the time backwards, and that Sam Whitlaw was at home, Hasken consulted his pocket address book and found Sam’s home number in Manhattan.

  Once again Hasken put through his long-distance call, and after a handful of seconds Whitlaw answered it. He did not sound sleepy, but then Hasken remembered that his boss was rarely sleepy. He was accustomed to being awakened at any hour of the morning, and always alert for some sudden breaking news.

  ‘Hello.’

  ‘Sam. Is that you? This is Hy Hasken in Beijing. It’s seven tomorrow evening where I am. Can you hear me all right?’

  ‘Where?’ said Whitlaw, less alert, momentarily befuddled, so that Hasken knew that he had been sleeping.

  Hasken raised his voice. ‘I’m in China. Beijing, China.’

  ‘Oh, yes. With the Pres. How did his speech go?’

  ‘Excellent. He’s good at that, you know.’

  ‘So he impressed them,’ said Whitlaw. ‘No news there. What are you calling me about at these prices?’

  ‘The Pres,’ said Hasken. ‘He’s doing it again.’

  ‘Doing what again?’

  ‘Changing his itinerary without telling anyone. He was supposed to leave Beijing for Washington tonight. He’s sending the press plane ahead, and he’s pretending he’s already left for Andrews Air Force Base. Only he hasn’t. He’s making a detour. He’s going to Lampang instead, before proceeding to Washington.’

  ‘To Lampang? On a schedule he hasn’t announced?’

  Hasken confirmed it. ‘Like he did last time. Remember when he came to Lampang for the funeral of Noy’s sister? Remember he gave himself an extra day to go sightseeing with Noy and went swimming with her? You remember the super pictures I got?’

  ‘I certainly remember. That was great,’ said Whitlaw.

  ‘Only because I stayed over, refused to take the press plane back. Well, I’m doing it again. I’m dogging the president’s footsteps. I’ll have to take a commercial plane back, but I’m sure you’ll agree it’s worth the investment. Maybe it’ll cost a little more, but it could be worth it.’

  Whitlaw didn’t speak a moment. Then he spoke. ‘Why is Underwood going to Lampang out of schedule?’

  ‘I don’t know, Sam. But I’m suspicious.’

  ‘How did you get on to this?’ Whitlaw asked.

  ‘I saw Ezra Morrison come into the Great Hall. He had a whispered consultation with the president. Then they both left. I slipped out of the press section and followed them. Actually, I was only hoping for an exclusive interview on the results of the China trip. I figured if I couldn’t see the president alone, I could corner Morrison. The two of them went into a room, apparently to take a telephone call. I got out of sight and ducked into a phone booth, leaving it partially open -‘

  ‘A phone booth in China?’

  ‘The coming of democracy. When Underwood and Morrison came out of the room, they walked up the corridor together, talking. I could hear them. That’s when I heard that the president was diverting to Lampang, and sending the press plane ahead to Washington. I heard the president tell Morrison

  to accompany the press and to take Blake with them. Afterwards, Morrison announced that the president was too busy for a press conference, and that he himself would hold a press conference on the press plane. He promised to answer all the questions about the president’s China trip. The press accepted that as routine. But not me. I knew about Lampang, and I figured there might be a better story there.’

  ‘So you’re letting the press go ahead, but you’re not going to be with them.’

  ‘I want to go to Lampang.

  ‘With no idea what’s up.’

  ‘No real idea,’ said Hasken. ‘But it has got to have something to do with Noy. Everything that involves the president in this part of the world does. And way back, at the start, you told me to stick to the president, wherever he went, whatever he did.’

  ‘I said that? I guess I did.’

  ‘So now that he’s unexpectedly heading for Lampang, I believe I should be there to greet him.’

  ‘Will he see you?’

  ‘It all depends on why he’s there. If he won’t see me, I can hang in close.’

  ‘If you think you can …’

  ‘You know me, Sam.’

  ‘So why are you calling me?’

  ‘No press plane,’ said Hasken. ‘I have to do this on my own. That means TNTN pays.’

  ‘An ordinary commercial flight shouldn’t be much.’

  ‘There’s no commercial flight until later this evening. I’d get into Visaka after the president arrived. It would be hard to see him.’

  ‘What are you suggesting?’

  ‘A charter flight from China to Lampang. If 1 left soon, I’d be there to welcome Underwood.’

  ‘Hey, that could be a helluva lot of money.’

  ‘True,’ admitted Hasken. ‘If it leads to something it’s a bargain. If it adds up to nothing, it’s a loss. What do you think?’

  ‘I don’t know what to think. You have a feeling something is going on in Lampang?’

  ‘A gut feeling,’ said Hasken.

  There was a silence on Whitlaw’s end of the phone. ‘I’m mulling it.’

  ‘Whatever you say, boss.’

  A longer silence. At last Whitlaw found his voice. ‘All right, one word.’

  ‘Say it.’

  Whitlaw said, ‘Go.’

  President Underwood arrived in Visaka on Air Force One late in the evening.

  He had tried to nap on the flight from Beijing, but he was kept awake by a turmoil of speculations. Marsop, a quiet, conservative man, had requested that he come to Visaka at once. That meant an emergency of some sort. The fact that Marsop had made the call instead of Noy, meant that she was not available - unless she was ill - and that something drastic was afoot.

  Fully awake, Underwood tried to imagine what could be going on. Without a real clue, it was impossible to guess. He would simply have to be patient and wait for an explanation from Marsop.

  Would Noy be on hand to do the explaining? If she hadn’t telephoned him herself, it was unlikely that she was available.

  If she wasn’t available, whe
re was she?

  When Air Force One landed and rolled to a halt, the president half expected Marsop to be waiting for him. But Marsop was not to be seen. Instead, a limousine and two Fords were on standby, the limousine for himself, and the other cars for the six Secret Service agents to precede and follows him. Also, Underwood noticed, two cars of army guards, Noy’s personal security force, were on hand to flank him for the drive into the city.

  Since, at Underwood’s request, there was no motorcade and no sirens were used, the journey from the airport into Visaka

  was slowed, and the party did not arrive at the Oriental Hotel for three-quarters of an hour.

  Four of the Secret Service men rushed ahead to go upstairs and check out the president’s suite. The other two Secret Service agents accompanied Underwood into the hotel.

  As Underwood entered the hotel, there were guests lined up on either side, held back by Noy’s security guards, to see what kind of celebrity was arriving. From one group of onlookers, a man burst free in an effort to approach the president. He was immediately grabbed by a security guard and blocked by one of the remaining Secret Service men.

  When Underwood saw who it was who’d tried to intercept him, there was an immediate expression of dismay on his face. Nevertheless, he ordered the agent to stand aside and allowed Hy Hasken to come forward.

  ‘What in the devil are you doing here?’ the president said angrily. ‘You’re supposed to be on the press plane on your way back to Washington.’

  Without flinching at the president’s tone, Hasken stood his ground. ‘Morrison said I could have an interview with you or him about the China trip,’ Hasken said. ‘Since Morrison is giving the interview to the other correspondents on the press plane, I thought I’d stay behind and try for an exclusive interview with you.’

  ‘No way,’ said Underwood with rising fury. ‘I’m much too busy for that.’

  ‘Mr. President, Lampang wasn’t on your agenda -‘

  it wasn’t because I hadn’t intended to be here. An emergency came up -‘

  ‘Business or pleasure?’

  ‘Certainly not pleasure,’ said the president heartedly. ‘This is a matter of state.’

  ‘I’d be curious to know -‘

  The president had been moving through the lobby, with Hasken beside him. Now the president suddenly stopped and turned on the journalist.

  ‘Hasken, when have you had enough? The last time you