"You think there's anything to those death threats from white supremacy groups Johnson says he's been getting?"
"They may be real enough, but I think it's just hot air."
"It would be awful if he were assassinated this close to the election."
"You think people would think I had something to do with it?" Will asked.
"People are crazy."
"Not crazy enough to try and kill Henry Johnson, I hope. I think after this he'll be back to his preaching and out of politics."
"I wouldn't count on it," Kate said. She was about to walk out the door when her bedside phone rang, and she picked it up. "Yes?" She listened for three or four minutes. "Right, I'll be there in half an hour." She hung up and turned to Will. "There was a weather delay in launching our reconnaissance missions in Afghanistan, but they're in the air now."
"The sooner the better," Will said.
WILL SAT in the Oval Office an hour later, listening to his campaign staff.
Moss Mallet was up. "It's too early to see any effect from this videotape of Johnson," he said, "but my polling shows that, if he gets out of the race or suddenly becomes less of a factor, it will put you within two points of Bill Spanner. That's within the margin of error."
Tom Black spoke up. "I'm hearing that a liberal group has got hold of some tapes of some of Johnson's sermons where he's being blatantly anti-white," he said. "Word is, they're going to run TV commercials using the tapes."
"You're staying away from that, I hope," Will said.
"Wouldn't touch it with a fork," Tom replied. "These are just rumors, of course, but I wouldn't be sad to see those commercials happen."
"Don't let anybody ever hear you say that," Will said. "I want us to run our own campaign, without any attacks on anybody."
"Spanner seems like the kind of guy who would have something in his background that would come out in a campaign," Sam Meriwether said.
"If that's so, then let it come out without our help," Will said.
"I'll bet there's something sexual," Kitty Conroy said. "He's too good-looking not to have dallied with the ladies at some point in his marriage."
"Let's not count on anything like that," Will said. He wanted terribly to tell them about the Afghanistan mission.
Tom Black was looking at him oddly. "Mr. President," he said, "you look worried. Is there something you want to give us a heads-up on? Something that might affect the election?"
Will took a beat to think about that, then replied, "No."
TODD BACON SAT in his rented pickup at the edge of the landing strip on Cumberland Island and watched a King Air, a twin-engine turboprop, set down on the grass-and-sand strip, followed a few minutes later by a Cessna 340, then a Beech Baron. These aircraft disgorged their passengers who were met by cars ferried from the mainland in the inn's old World War II landing craft and then driven north toward the slave village.
The reverend's published schedule on the Internet said that he was leading a prayer service on the front lawn of Plum Manor, the empty Palladian mansion on the north end of the island, immediately before the wedding, so Todd got the pickup started and drove toward the slave village.
TEDDY FAY HAD some breakfast from a cooler aboard his airplane, then slipped on a light backpack and began hiking toward the slave village. After half an hour's walk, he sat down on a fallen tree and checked his equipment. His transmitter had a range of a mile, but he had stopped half a mile from the village. He could do everything from here, guaranteeing himself a clean getaway. Television news had told him that the Reverend Henry King Johnson had not requested Secret Service protection, and Teddy was relieved about that.
TODD REACHED the deserted slave village and got out of the pickup. He walked from cabin to cabin, checking each one thoroughly, then walked to the church and went inside. Two ladies, one white and one black, were arranging flowers at the altar, and they greeted him politely.
"Are you part of the wedding party?" one asked him.
"No," Todd replied, "I'm a guest at the inn, and I was just taking a little tour of the island. Is there a wedding today?"
"Yes, and they should be arriving any minute," one woman said, consulting her watch.
"I wish the couple every happiness, then," Todd said, and left the church. He walked slowly around the little building. It was set on stone pilings about four feet high, elevating the building over the rest of the village. The area from the floor of the church to the ground was covered with wooden latticework. Everything looked in order here, but Todd wanted to walk the perimeter of the village and check for intruders. He pulled the Sig pistol from his belt and checked its readiness, then kept it in his hand as he walked. From what the late Owen Masters had told him, his chances in an encounter with Teddy Fay would be poor, and he wanted to improve the odds.
He walked as silently as he could, looking as far into the trees as he could see, looking for wires on the ground or anything that could mark a danger.
He heard car doors slamming and looked toward the village to see the tall, handsome Reverend Johnson get out of a car and walk toward the church. He went inside, followed by the small procession of the wedding party, no more than a dozen people.
As Todd watched, rays of sunshine broke through a cloud and illuminated the building. The effect was theatrical, as if God were personally blessing this union, turning his own spotlight upon it. And then Todd saw, under the building, illuminated by the sunshine, the tank.
58
FOR JUST A MOMENT, TODD FROZE. HE MUST GET THOSE PEOPLE OUT OF THE church, he thought. Then he changed his mind and began running. He tore around the church to the rear of the little building and began pulling at the latticework surrounding the crawl space. It was nailed firmly on, but by bracing a foot against a post he got a corner loose.
A large black man in a suit and tie came around the corner of the building. "Hey, what are you doing there?" he yelled.
"Help me get this off!" Todd yelled at him.
"What are you doing?"
"There's a large bomb under this church, and if I don't get to it in time, we're all going to die."
The man grabbed the latticework next to Todd, and they pulled together. The extra weight and strength did the job, and the latticework came away, dumping both men on their backs.
Todd scrambled to his feet and dove under the church, crawling as fast as he could.
"What can I do?" the man behind him yelled.
"Get those people out of the church and as far away from it as possible!" Todd yelled back. He reached the propane tank and found something electronic fastened to it with duct tape. The device had a flashing light and a short antenna. Todd got his Swiss Army knife out of a pocket and a blade open, and with one hand, he grasped the antenna in his fist, hoping that would keep it from receiving. With the other hand he sawed at the duct tape.
TEDDY HAD GOTTEN close enough to the church to hear the cars stop and the wedding party walking up the wooden steps of the building. He gave them another two minutes, then held up his remote control and flipped a switch. To his surprise, nothing happened. He flipped the switch off, then on. Still nothing. Teddy didn't understand; he had built these two devices himself and had tested them thoroughly the day before. Maybe he had miscalculated the range. He started walking toward the church, switching the remote on and off.