«What is, Warren?»
«Actors.»
«Of course.»
«Actors can be anybody they want to be—convince other people they’re not who they really are, right?»
«That’s true. It’s what they’re trained to do.»
«No killers, no indictments, no goddamned hearings on the Hill.»
«Well, I wouldn’t go that far without buying off a few senators, which our contingency funds allow for—»
«I can see it now,» interrupted Pease, spinning front, his left eye in place, both eyes wide with excitement. «They arrive at Kennedy Airport—red sashes, maybe beards and homburgs—a delegation.»
«A what?»
«From Sweden! A delegation from the Nobel committee. They’ve studied the military history of the twentieth century and have come over to find General MacKenzie Hawkins to award him the Nobel peace prize for being the greatest soldier of our time!»
«Perhaps I should call a doctor, Warren.»
«Not at all, Mrs. Trueheart, you gave it to me! Can’t you understand? This banana’s got an ego bigger than Mount Everest!»
«Who has?»
«Thunder Head.»
«Who?»
«MacKenzie Hawkins, that’s who! He won the Congressional Medal of Honor—twice.»
«I think we should say a silent prayer to almighty God for having made him an American and not a Commie—»
«Bullshit!» exploded the Secretary of State. «He’s the asshole of the millennium. He’ll come running out from wherever he is to get that award… Then it’s Sweden and points north, way north! A lost plane—Lapland, Siberia, the tundra, who cares?»
«Despite your inane profanity, Warren, when you say north, it has the ring of brilliant truth, our truth… What can I do, Mr. Secretary?»
«To begin with, find out how we reach the officer running these actors, and then have my plane prepared to fly me down to Fort Benning… Perfect!»
The two rental cars raced south on Route 93 toward Boston, Paddy Lafferty commandeering the first, his wife, driving the second, approximately a mile behind. Aaron Pinkus sat in front with his chauffeur, while Sam Devereaux, his mother, and Jennifer Redwing were in the rear seat, the Indian attorney between mother and son. The second vehicle carried General MacKenzie Hawkins in the front with Mrs. Lafferty, as Desis One and Two were in the back, playing blackjack with a deck of cards appropriated from the former ski lodge.
«Now, you hear me good, little girl!» said the plumpish Erin Lafferty of fine Celtic features into the car telephone. «I want the buster boy to have a full bowl of oatmeal with real milk—not that watered-down crap Grandpa drinks—and the tiny lass should have two slices of bread soaked in eggs and fried—two eggs, got that?… All right, girl, I’ll get back to you later.»
«Your children?» asked the Hawk somewhat awkwardly as Mrs. Lafferty replaced the phone.
«Have you got your brains anywheres near your head, man? Do I look like a woman who’s got wee tots?»
«I merely overheard your conversation, madam—»
«That was my youngest, Bridget, who’s lookin’ after my older lad’s—my second oldest lad’s—kids, while them two-toilet suppositories are on a cruise … would you believe, a cruise?»
«Did your husband object?»
«How the hell could he? Dennis-boyo is a big accountant with all those letters after his name. He does our taxes.»
«I see.»
«May the devil fart perfume, you do! Never have kids who are brainier than you. There’s hell to pay.» The car telephone buzzed and Mrs. Lafferty picked it up. «What is it, Bridgey? You can’t find the refrigerator, girl?… Oh, it’s you, Paddy, darlin’, who I may just push your head into a barrel of used crank case oil.» Erin Lafferty held the phone out for Hawkins. «Paddy says Mr. Pinkus wants to talk to you.»
«Thank you, madam… Commander?»
«No, it’s still Paddy, great General. I’ll put the boss on in a second or two. I just wanted to tell you not to pay no attention to my woman. She’s a good girl, sir, but she’s not been in true combat, if you know what I’m drivin’ at.»
«I understand, Gunny. But if I were you, I’d make damn sure ‘Buster boy’ gets his oatmeal with real milk and the ‘tiny lass’ has her fried bread with two eggs.»
«Oh, she’s been on the breakfast bit again, has she? Grandmothers can be the end of the good life, General… Here’s Mr. Pinkus.»
«General?»
«Commander? What’re the map coordinates, sir?»
«The what?… Oh, where we’re going. Yes, well, I’ve just made arrangements for us all to stay at my brother-in-law’s summer house in Swampscott. It’s on the beach and rather delightful, and as he and Shirley’s sister are in Europe, it’s completely available.»
«Well done, Commander Pinkus. A comfortable bivouac under combat conditions is good for the troops’ morale. Do you have an address? I have to relay it to Little Joseph in Boston because our support personnel will be arriving shortly.»
«It’s known as the old Worthington estate on the Beach Road, now owned by Sidney Birnbaum. I’m not sure there are numbers, but the entire front wall is painted in royal blue, which very much appealed to Shirley’s sister.»
«That’s good enough, Commander Pinkus. Our support will undoubtedly be chosen from an elite corps and they’ll find it. Anything else?»
«Simply tell Paddy’s wife where we’re going. If we get separated in the traffic, she knows the way.»
The Hawk relayed the information, only to be greeted by Erin Lafferty’s succinct reply. «Oh, Jesus Himself be praised! I’ll be dealin’ with the kosher boys, and let me tell you, General, they really know where to get the best meat and the freshest vegetables!»
«You’ve been there before, I presume?»
«Been there! Don’t ever tell my parish priest, but the grand Sidney and his dear wife, Sarah, made me the godmother of their boy, Joshua—Jewish style, you understand. Josh is like one of my own, and Paddy and I keep prayin’ that he and Bridgey can get it together, if you know what I mean.»
«Would your parish priest—»
«What the hell does he know? He drinks all them French wines and bores us to death about their bookays. A loser.»
«The true, fine melting pot,» said the Hawk quietly. «Have you ever thought of running for Pope?» he added, chuckling. «I once knew one who thought like you.»
«Awe, gowann! A dumb Irish broad like me even thinkin’ like that?»
«‘The meek shall inherit the earth,’ for on their shoulders lies the morality of all mankind.»
«Hey, you! You tryin’ to come on with me? Because if you are, my Paddy could break you in half!»
«I wouldn’t dream of it, madam,» replied the Hawk, looking at Erin Lafferty’s profile. «And I’m sure he could,» added the soldier who was arguably the most proficient hand-to-hand combat officer ever to have served in the military. «He would, of course, demolish me.»
«Well, he’s gettin’ on, but my boy still has it.»
«He has you, and that’s far more important.»
«Where’re you at, Buster? I’m an old lady, for Christ’s sake!»