The senior staff was all there, sitting at the conference table. Director Simpson stood by the window with David, laughing at a private joke. He waved at her and led David to a vacant chair near the head of the table. “Now that we’re all here,” he said, “it is my pleasure to announce my choice for the new position of deputy director for interagency coordination. We’ll have someone right here in the building to blame for any problems with the Border Patrol.”
Everybody laughed.
“That’s right,” the director announced, “we’ve got to keep Washington happy, keep our sister agencies at bay, and keep all these aliens in Mexico. In that, I owe special gratitude to Elizabeth McPherson who, as you know, has served the agency longer than any of us, rising to chief legal counsel three years ago.”
Her face warm, Elizabeth smiled.
“What I admire most about Elizabeth,” the director continued, “is her ability to train young lawyers, not only in law, but also as practical, creative administrators, just like her. This kind of approach is commendable. It is therefore credit to Elizabeth that we are able to fill this new position internally, without having to accept an outside appointee from Washington or from another agency.”
Elizabeth said, “Thank you, Mr. Simpson. Your confidence in me is the greatest reward, and I will not disappoint you.” She clasped the armrests, ready to rise for a formal handshake.
“As a team,” Director Simpson said, “we’ll make this new position a success, and make the DHS agencies work better together.”
Elizabeth stood up, extending her hand, but the director turned the other way and announced, “Congratulations, Deputy Director David Goodyear!”
Professor Silver opened the basement door, letting out a cloud of smoke. “If you’re going to disobey my orders again,” he said to Al, “the National Council will hear about it.” He filled his voice with anger. “You play around with snakes and cookies, making me look like a fool. Then you take my knife without permission and attempt an unauthorized execution inside my home? And you call yourself a soldier?”
The stocky Jew shot to his feet, red in the face. “Better soldier than you!”
Struggling not to laugh, Silver thought, Who said Jews were smart?
“Way better!”
“Better at what? Dereliction of duty?”
Al clenched his fists, his head bowed like a raging bull. “Did not der-lee-cate my duty!”
“Then how did Masada El-Tal find out about Mahoney and the cash?” This was a spur-of-the-moment idea, to make Al so defensive he would not even think of suspecting Silver. “Did you betray us? Did you give Masada a video clip of the cash delivery to curry favor with her?”
“No!”
Silver pointed at the stairs leading up from the basement. “Were you going to kill her so she wouldn’t tell me that you were her source?”
The accusation, which Silver uttered while a grin was fighting its way to his lips, deflated Al’s belligerence. He sat down and pressed his fisted paws to his temples.
Silver stood over him, enjoying the irony of the situation. “You know what happens to traitors?”
Al groaned. “Got a temper, I do, but I’m no traitor. She rejected me before you even told me about the Mahoney operation. Called the cops on me!”
“So what?” Silver kept at him. “You were still crazy about her. You hoped to win her heart by betraying Judah’s Fist, right?”
“No!”
“You preferred your dick to your duty.” Pleased with the clever wordplay, Silver searched for further inspiration. “You’re a disgrace to the Jewish race!”
“Don’t say that,” Al begged. “On the souls of my comrades, just as I didn’t betray them in Nam, I’ll die before betraying Israel!”
“Then why are you disobeying my orders?”
“Pain, Levy, I’m in pain. Inside. It’s crazy.” Al pounded his head. “Was always a good soldier, am a good soldier. Being part of this, it’s great. Not sitting around anymore, playing bingo with folks whose teeth go in a glass every night. Not waiting to die. No more. Being a fighter again. Got to believe me! Won’t fail, not again!” He buried his face in his hands. “Won’t fail!”
Silver rubbed his goatee. The pathetic Jew was sick in the head. It was time to put him out of his misery. “Are you a real soldier?”
Al’s eyes lit with hope. “Tell me what to do! Just tell me!”
“Pull yourself together. We have a traitor to punish.”
Masada heard the news and drove to Temple Zion, finding a police car and a few members of the congregation in the parking lot. The rabbi joined them a moment later. He looked as if he’d cried. “A swastika,” he said. “Can you believe it?”
She took his arm, pulled him away from the group, and told him about the rattler and the yellow fist, spray-painted on the pillowcase.
He was horrified. “Someone’s trying to kill you!”
“Yeah, someone from Israel.”
“Can’t be! Israel would never hurt a Jew for political reasons. It’s contrary to its very ideology. Judah’s Fist is a front for something else!”
His passion was endearing, but he was naive. And uninformed, because she had told no one about her encounter with Colonel Ness and his agent on Camelback Mountain. But this wasn’t the time. She took a deep breath. “There’s more bad news. I called the vet. Shanty. They couldn’t save her.”
Rabbi Josh groaned and looked away. “My poor Raul. It’ll break his heart.”
When David entered, Elizabeth looked up from her desk. He left the door open and showed her a bundle of phone-message notes. Six were from her, and she was ready to explode. How could he ignore her like that, after all she had done for him?
He dropped into a chair. “Simpson doesn’t leave me alone. He briefed me for two hours, took me to the Border Patrol command, then to lunch with Senator Mitchum-”
“Don’t apologize.” The sight of his boyish smile melted her. “It’s your big day.”
He sheepishly looked at her from under his shock of brown hair. “You’re not angry?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m so proud of you!”
“That’s my Ellie.” He grinned. “I knew you’d understand.”
“Understand?” She went to the door and closed it. “I was just anxious to congratulate you, my love. This is so wonderful.” She hugged him, which was awkward as he remained seated. “I praised you to Simpson, told him how bright you are, how capable and talented.”
“I know. He truly respects your opinion.” David got up, and she wanted to hug him again, but now the chair separated them. “I owe it all to you, Ellie.” He went to the door. “My phone is ringing off the hook.”
“I’ll see you tonight, my love.”
“Oh, gosh. It’s Wednesday already?” He looked pained. “We’ll have to skip it. My wife invited a few friends to celebrate.”
“So? Tell her the new job requires you to work late.” Elizabeth smiled, touching her ample breasts. “It’ll be fun.”
His eyes dropped to her chest. “I wish, but-”
“I’ll fix us something to eat,” she said, “and we’ll talk about the future. I have a huge surprise for you!”
The bell rang while Professor Silver was making himself a cheese sandwich. As he opened the door, the mailman drove off. A package was left on the doormat. He tore it open and found the manuscript of his second book, which the publisher was returning with a brief letter: We thank you for submitting your book manuscript, ‘South Africa as a Blueprint for International Sanctions Against Abusive Regimes.’While we agree that economic sanctions were instrumental in ending apartheid, your book overemphasizes cynical political machinations inside international organizations while understating the genuine devotion to human rights that is essential to such an effort. We thus decline to publish your manuscript.