Summits. Workshops. Brain pools. Coalitions. War protesters. Pacifists. Leftist pamphleteers. Vote drives. Reapportionment. Resultant mainstream clout.
WHITE RABBIT cited concepts. WHITE RABBIT ran timetables. WHITE RABBIT quoted dates.
MLK prophesied. MLK decried Vietnam:
"It will escalate into the most murderous misadventure of the American 20th century. It will divide, rip asunder and produce skeptics and people of conscience in epic numbers. They will form the nucleus of the consensus that will burn America as we know it to the ground."
Timetables. Fund drives. Operating costs assessed. Vote potentials. District boundaries. Registration stats. Tallies. Figures. Prognostications.
It's huge. It's grand. It's magnificent. It's insane. It's megalomaniacal.
Littell rubbed his eyes. Littell fought double-vision. Littell dribbled sweat.
Sweet and blessed Christ-
Mr. Hoover would cringe. Mr. Hoover would gasp. Mr. Hoover would FIGHT
Littell cranked a window. Littell looked out. Littell saw freeway ramps. The cars looked new. The taillights streamed. The signposts blurred bright.
He lit a match. He burned the file. He flushed the ashes down the sink. He prayed for Martin Luther King.
o o o
His words stuck.
He savored them. He replayed them. He said them in Dr. King's voice.
He surveilled Lyle's house. He parked adjacent. No Merc extant/no collectors/no movement. Say Lyle dozed late-give him time-time the collectors' approach.
North Ivar was dead. Windows glowed black white. The glass bounced TV shadows. He shut his eyes. He dipped his seat. He waited. He yawned. He stretched.
Headlights-
They passed his car. They swiveled. They strafed Lyle's house. There-the blue Merc.
Lyle parked in his driveway. Lyle got out and walked up. Lyle saw the door crashed and trashed.
He ran inside. He hit lights. He screeched.
Littell shut his eyes.
He heard crash sounds. He heard toss sounds. He heard oh no yells. He opened his eyes. He checked his watch. He timed Lyle _seeing_ things.
More toss sounds. More crash sounds-no yells or screams.
Lyle ran out. Littell clocked it: 3.6 minutes.
Lyle stumbled. Lyle looked woozy. Lyle looked unkempt. Lyle got in his car. Lyle pulled out. Lyle hit reverse and floored it.
He gunned it. He smoked tread. He smashed the barrier fence. The car flew. The car upended and flipped.
Littell heard the crash. Littell heard the tank blow. Littell saw the flames.
_DOCUMENT INSERT_: 8/11/65. Internal telephone call transcript. (OPERATION BLACK RABBIT addendum.) Marked: "Recorded at the Director s Request" / "Classified Confidential 1-A" / "Director s Eyes Only." Speaking: Director, BLUE RABBIT.
DIR: Good morning.
BR: Good morning, Sir.
DIR: I was saddened by the news on your brother. You have my condolences.
BR: Thank you, Sir.
DIR: He was a valued colleague. That makes the circumstances surrounding his death all the more troubling.
BR: I won't apologize for him, Sir. He indulged occasional binges and behaved accordingly.
DIR: The suicide aspect troubles me. A neighbor saw him back his car off that hillside, which confirmed the LAPD's findings and the coroner's verdict.
BR: He was impetuous, Sir. He'd been married four times.
DIR: Yes, in the manner of one Mickey Rooney.
BR: Sir, did you-
DIR: I've reviewed the LAPD's paperwork and I've spoken to the Las Vegas SAC. WHITE RABBIT's house had been thoroughly ransacked. A neighbor told officers that WHITE RABBIT's souvenir gun collection had been stolen, along with the contents of his desk and file cabinets. Agents questioned the collection crew at the Desert Inn. A man admitted that he broke into WHITE RABBIT's house, two days after the suicide, and that it had already been ransacked, which is undisputedly a lie. The LAPD officers who responded to the suicide call said that they found the door open and that they viewed the ransacked state of the living room.
BR: It fits, Sir. My brother had run up casino debts before, although never to such a large amount.
DIR: Did WHITE RABBIT keep a private file on the dealings of the SCLC?
BR: I don't know, Sir. He adhered to a need-to-know policy with me on most security matters.
DIR: CRUSADER RABBIT's proximity to the incident bothers me.
BR: It bothers me as well, Sir.
DIR: Was he being spot-tailed during the time preceding WHITE RABBIT's binge?
BR: No, Sir. We had already set WHITE RABBIT up to meet him, and I didn't want complications. Nevada agents had been rotating on and off of him, though.
DIR: CRUSADER RABBIT keeps popping up. He hops from catastrophe to catastrophe with rabbitlike aplomb.
BR: Yes, Sir.
DIR: He appears in Bogalusa. Voila, WILD RABBIT's friend Charles Rogers disappears. He appears in Las Vegas. Voila, he views the prelude to WHITE RABBIT's suicide.
BR: You know my distaste for CRUSADER RABBIT, Sir. That said, I should add that he did call and warn you.
DIR: Yes, and I spoke to him yesterday. He told me that he helped WHITE RABBIT outside, and that WHITE RABBIT simply passed out in his car. His story sounded plausible, and the assigned agents have not been able to crack it. They tell me that he did terminate WHITE RABBIT's casino credit, which further buttresses his credibility.
BR: He may have somehow capitalized on the incident, Sir. I seriously doubt that he provoked it.
DIR: I'm keeping an open mind for the moment. CRUSADER RABBIT is capable of outlandish provocations.
BR: Yes, Sir.
DIR: To digress. Tell me how WILD RABBIT is behaving.
BR: He's doing well, Sir. He's building up his Klan unit nicely, chiefly on the basis of FATHER RABBIT's recruitments. He's debriefed a number of recruits with mail-fraud information on rival kiaverns and paramilitary groups. The Bogalusa incident appears to have chastened him, and he seems to be adhering to his operational parameters.
DIR: WILD RABBIT is an obstreperous bunny who has endured very obvious reprimands.
BR: That's my assessment, Sir. But I don't know who the reprimander is, and the Rogers angle eludes me.
DIR: The chain of events is seductive. Rogers kills his parents and disappears. A Negro church explodes 800 miles east.
BR: I only like riddles I can solve, Sir.
DIR: I had the Houston SAC run a passport check. Pete Bondurant and Wayne Tedrow Junior arrived in Houston shortly after Rogers. I think they killed him, but their motive flummoxes me.
BR: Again, Sir. CRUSADER RABBIT and his proximity.
DIR: Yes, an additional vexation.
BR: Sir, do you-
DIR: RED RABBIT will seek to attend WHITE RABBIT's funeral. Will you allow it?
BR: Yes, Sir.
DIR: May I ask why?
BR: My reason may sound ifip, Sir.
DIR: Indulge yourself. Walk on the wild side.
BR: My brother enjoyed RED RABBIT, Sir. He knew him for what he was and liked him anyway. He can come and give a big oration and repeat his "I Have a Dream" speech for all I care. Lyle only made 46, so I'm prone to humor his memory.
DIR: The fraternal bond deconstructed. Bravo, Dwight.
BR: Thank you, Sir.
DIR: Has it occurred to you that CRUSADER and WHITE RABBIT share certain characteristics and a common moral void?
BR: It has, Sir.
DIR: Is your hatred for RED RABBIT escalating?
BR: It is, Sir. It was my hope that we could escalate BLACK RABBIT and recoup our loss.
DIR: In due time. For now I want to wait and assess an adjunct plan.
BR: Covert ops?
DIR: No, a formal shakedown.
BR: Run by field agents?
DIR: No, run by one Pierre Bondurant, known in unpolite circles as "Mr. Extortion" and "The Shakedown King."