10:22 A.M. A dark blue van veered into the curb on Capitol at the side of the Supreme Court. Its rear doors opened and seven Ranger Commandos in camouflage green and black combat fatigues leaped out, their weapons concealed in their wide pockets. After all, they did not want to appear conspicuous. Their covert mission had been defined by the diminutive Secretary of Defense himself—orally, not in writing. «Gentlemen, these two scum would cripple the first line of America’s airborne forces, that’s all I can tell you. They must be stopped at all costs. In the words of that great commander, ‘Beam ’em up, Scotty,’—way up, out of sight!» … Commandos hated scum like that! If anyone was going to dump on the sky-jocks, it would be them. The fly-boys grabbed all the headlines and still flew home for a steak while they were in the mud! No! If anybody was going to blitz the «airborne,» they would do it!
12:03 P.M. MacKenzie Hawkins, arms akimbo, studied the figure of Henry Irving Sutton in the hotel room, nodding his approval. «Goddamn, Mr. Actor, you could be me!»
«It wasn’t difficult, mon général,» said Sutton, removing his gold-braided officer’s cap, revealing a head of close-cropped gray hair. «The uniform fits superbly and the ribbons are, indeed, impressive. The rest is merely vocal intonation, which is simple. My voice-over commercials, including one for a rotten cat, sent one of my children through college—damned if I can remember which one.»
«I still want you to wear a combat helmet—»
«Don’t be ridiculous, it would spoil the effect and defeat the purpose. My role is to draw men out, not frighten them away. A battle helmet telegraphs impending conflict, and that connotes defense measures such as armed concealed personnel for protection. One’s motivation must be clean and consistent, General, not muddled, you lose your audience that way.»
«You could also lose—well, you could be a target, too, you know.»
«I really don’t think so,» said the actor, his eyes twinkling at the Hawk’s unfinished statement. «Not with what you’ve got going out there. Compared to the sands of North Africa, this is practically offstage. At any rate, it’s a minor risk, for which I’m being well compensated… Incidentally, how goes it with our Stanislavski warriors of the Suicidal Six?»
«There’s been a change of plans—»
«Oh?» interrupted Sir Henry sharply, suspiciously.
«All to the good for everybody,» said Hawkins quickly, instantly recognizing the quasi-panic of the actor’s expression, a custom of a trade where you got it, sweetheart, you’re teriff! frequently meant the bum’s a loser, get me some class like Sonny Tufts. «They’ll be in Los Angeles by four o’clock this afternoon. My wife, my former wife—one of ’em, that is, the first, actually—wanted them out there so she could keep a motherly eye on all six.»
«How very sweet.» The actor touched the two stars on his collar. «However, to be blunt, nothing’s changed with regard to my appearance in the film?»
«Hell, no. The boys want you, and whatever they want they’re going to get.»
«Are you certain? They have no recognition quotient, you realize.»
«Whatever it is, they don’t need it. They control the ‘hottest boffo-box-office-mega-buster’—whatever that is—anyone in Dizzy City, West, can remember. In any event, everything’s in the hands of the William Morris Agency and—»
«William Morris?»
«Isn’t that the name?»
«It certainly is! I think one of my daughters is an attorney in their legal department—probably got the job because she’s my daughter. What is her name; I see her every Christmas.»
«The deal’s being handled by two men named Robbins and Martin, and my wife, my former—you know what I mean—says they’re the best.»
«Yes, yes, of course, I’ve read about them in the trades. I believe my daughter—Becky or Betty … whatever—was engaged to that Robbins fellow, or was it Martin? Yes, they really must be splendid, for she’s a very bright girl—Antoinette, that’s her name! She always gives me a sweater three sizes too big, but then I’ve always appeared extremely large on stage—it’s called presence, you know.»
«I guess I do now. The boys are heading out to the Coast, everything first class, my Ginny told me.»
«Naturally. One doesn’t send six quarts of diamonds on a subway unattended. I’m surprised they didn’t hire their own jet.»
«My ex-wife explained that. She said all the studios and the agents out there hire people who do nothing but monitor corporate aircraft, and if anything looks suspicious, they bribe the pilots. She told me a Lear was lost in the Alaskan tundra three weeks ago and was just found yesterday, two hours after a rival studio signed some guy named Warner Batty to a contract.»
The hotel room doorbell rang, startling both men. «Who the hell could that be?» whispered the Hawk. «Henry, did you tell anybody—»
«Absolutely no one!» replied the actor, also whispering, but far more emphatically. «I followed the script, dear boy, not a single variation in the stage directions! I registered quite respectably as a pipe salesman from Akron—proper polyester suit, weary slouch … damn fine performance, if I do say so.»
«Who could it be?»
«Leave it to me, mon général.» Sutton walked to the door and assumed the weaving posture of a drunken man, loosening his tie and partially unbuttoning his tunic. «Hide in the closet, MacKenzie!» he said quietly, then raising his timbre, he spoke in a loud inebriated voice. «Yesh, wassit it? Dish is a personal party, and me and my broad don’ want no extra guests!»
«Hey, fazool!» came the gruff reply through the door. «If you think you’re playin’ one of your fuckin’ games like you did when we was in Bean Town, ferget it! Lemme in!»
Sir Henry snapped his head around; the closet door opened simultaneously, the face of MacKenzie Hawkins pinched in shock. «Oh, my God, it’s Little Joseph!… Let him in, goddamnit.»
«So?» said Joey, his hands clasped behind him as the door closed and standing as high as his five feet, three inches permitted. «If the head of that fazool peekin’ out of the closet is your broad, soldier boy, you got big troubles in the military.»
«Who is this dwarf who obviously speaks dwarf-talk?» asked the actor, his indignation scathing.
«You’re an easy mark, fazool number two. Once you made contact with the big fazool on F Street and Tenth, what with your right shoulder twitching and your left hand jabbing south like you got the DTs, I knew you was the contact. You couldn’t fool nobody.»
«Are you questioning my technique, sir? I, who have garnered the approbation of a thousand critics across the land!»
«Who’s the hot fudge sundae?» asked Little Joey, as a perplexed Hawk walked out of the clothes closet. «I think maybe Bam-Bam and me should know, y’know what I mean?»
«Joseph, what are you doing here?» roared MacKenzie, his astonishment receding and veering to menace.
«Cool it, fazool. Vinnie has your best interests at heart, you gotta know that. Remember, I’m the Shroud. I can be anywhere, move anywhere, nobody notices me. Like you didn’t notice me when you flew into National Airport from New York this morning and I was right on your ass.»