«To my disgrace and lack of respect, I did that. What can I say?»
«Easy, son, it wasn’t your fault, it was his. He just wasn’t very bright and I had two very street-smart adjutants.»
«What?»
«I don’t want you to be too hard on yourself. Command has to expect the unexpected sidewinder, it’s part of the options course in the War College.»
«What the hell are you talking about?»
«I guess you’re just not officer material. What else can I say?»
«You can just listen to me, that’s what… I’m very pissed off that certain people who I thought had great respect for me now want to see me in that grave we agreed was for you—only now they want me there with you, which I find to my distaste, capisce?»
«So what did you have in mind, Mr. No Name?»
«I want you to stay alive and well so I can do unto those elegant, respectable types exactly that which they would do unto me. Namely, bury the bastards.»
«Back up, Commander Y. If you’re talking about termination-with-extreme-prejudice among civilian personnel, I’ll need a direct order from the President, cosigned by the chairman of the Joint Chiefs and the DCI—that’s the director of Central Intelligence.»
«No kidding?»
«I don’t expect you to know how these things are done—»
«And I don’t want done what you just said!» broke in Mangecavallo harshly. «A few simple hits I don’t need you for. A man buys the dirt, he’s got peace; what I got in mind for these pearly-white Zucchinis is pure torment. I want them ruined, busted, broke—part of the homeless with a credit line of Hobo Pete!»
«‘Hobo’ who?»
«He used to clean urinals in the Brooklyn subways—that’s what I want for those bastards! For the rest of their miserable lives, I want those scungilli to clean urinals in Cairo!»
«As a fact, Commander Y, as a young captain in the desert war against Rommel, I became quite friendly with the Egyptian officer corps—»
«Basta!» yelled Mangecavallo, instantly lowering his voice and oozing what charm there was in him. «Forgive me, great, great General. I’m stressed out, if you know what I mean.»
«You can’t let that happen,» admonished the Hawk. «We’ve all been there, Commander, but you can’t give in to it. Remember, your men look to you for the strength they may not have. Stand tall and deliver it!»
«I will treasure those words,» said a humbled Vinnie the Bam-Bam. «But right now I must warn you—»
«You mean the SFIs?» interrupted Hawkins. «Little Joseph relayed your previous message and the current situation is under control. The hostile troops are immobilized.»
«What? They found you already?»
«More precisely, Commander, we spotted ’em first and took appropriate action. My forces are presently in safe shelter and will remain there out of combat range.»
«What happened? Where are the SFs?»
«SFIs,» corrected the Hawk. «The Incorrigibles. Not those other brave normal men I trained and who gave so much. These are the psychopaths we never had a chance to weed out.»
«But where are they?»
«Well, by this time they’re probably in jail, all on a morals rap, and if not, there are four stark-naked men running up and down the staircases of the Ritz-Carlton hotel doing their goddamnedest not to be seen… Oh, the fifth member is no doubt still in a Lincoln that won’t start, also naked, with a mobile cellular phone that’s been ripped out and smashed in the gutter.»
«Holy shit!»
«I believe that message will ultimately be sent back to Washington… Now, let’s get down to tactics, Commander. You obviously know what my agenda is. What’s yours?»
«The same as yours, General. A rotten, terrible thing was done to a small, naïve tribe of innocent original inhabitants of this great U.S. of A., and a magnanimous wealthy nation must make restitution… How does that grab you so far?»
«Right in the gun sight, soldier!»
«Now what you don’t know, General, is that several members of the Supreme Court found your attorney’s brief kinda convincing. Not a firm majority by any means, but they’re talking, like in private.»
«I knew it!» broke in the Hawk triumphantly. «Otherwise they never would have reached the Golden Goldfarb—who I also kinda trained, goddamn it!»
«You know Hymie the Hurricane?»
«Damn good man, strong as an elephant and with the brains of a Rhodes scholar.»
«He was a Rhodes scholar.»
«What did I just tell you?»
«All right, all right,» smoothed Mangecavallo. «But because of the SAC situation and for reasons of national security, the Court won’t allow the brief to be made public for another eight days, and the day before it does, you and your attorney-of-record must appear in closed session to answer oral interrogation. That’s for you to make your final case.»
«I’m prepared for that, Commander Y. I’ve been prepared for it for damn near a year! I welcome the invitation. My case is pure.»
«Yeah, but the Pentagon, the air force, and, most especially, the defense contractors aren’t. They want your ass, General, a dead ass.»
«If the contingent they sent up to Boston this afternoon is an indication of their combat evaluation, I’ll walk into that Court in full Wopotami regalia.»
«Jesus! I’m told they were like the most violent, the craziest, except for a unit they keep in the walled-up funny farm, where they like to play volleyball by throwing the guards over the net. They’re called the Filthy Four—they’ll come after you next!»
«In that case,» said the Hawk, squinting, «and assuming you’ve got support personnel at your command, perhaps you might allocate a platoon for our assistance. To tell you the truth, Commander Y, I’ve only got two operative subordinates to defend our position, as it were.»
«That’s the problem, General. Under normal circumstances, I could send up a whole crew of experienced hitters to protect you, but there’s no time now—such secret protection takes a little time to put together, because it’s got to be totally secret or we all lose.»
«That sounds to me like lace-pants pricky-shit talk, Mr. No Name.»
«It’s not … on my Aunt Angelina’s grave—»
«That’s Little Joseph’s aunt.»
«It’s a big family… Listen, I can collect two, maybe three very close associates who can be counted on to keep the silence like holy monks, but any more than that could be a problem. They’d be missed, questions asked, bad rumors started like, ‘Who’s he working for?’ or ‘He looked fine yesterday, what do you mean he’s in the hospital?’ or maybe even ‘I hear he spilled all our beans to the family in Hartford who wants our action—that’s who he’s working for!’ … See what I mean, great General? Too many of those kind of questions would come up with large numbers protecting you, and with them my name might just surface, and that can’t happen!»
«You in some kind of lizardshit, Commander Y?»
«I told you. I’m facing my own personal demise. I’m finito, schiacciata, my bones rock salt!»
«Feeling poorly, soldier …? Hang in there, Commander, doctors don’t know everything, fella.»