«Right on, pilgrim!»
«Hey, Stella, he got it right!»
«You … you … you are with … with … with it!»
«Speak the speech, I pray you—»
«Beautiful, sweetheart. Have a lollipop!»
«Yeah, yeah, we don’ need no howitzers t’ blow the gooks away!»
«What?»
«Well, he’s gotta be right, y’know what I mean? Nobody gets shot. Nobody gets his face in a bucket!»
«Eeeowweeah!» bellowed Cyrus, his scream worthy of Anouilh’s dictum. «I’ve had it! I’ve really had it!… You, Sir Henry Horseshit! You were military—I heard that certifiable Hawkins say you were a goddamned hero in North Africa! What happened to that man?»
«In a primitive sense, Colonel, all soldiers are actors. We’re terrified, but we try to pretend we’re not; we know that at any moment our precious lives may be taken from us, but we abandon that knowledge for the irrational reason that the immediate objective is paramount, although in the core of our minds, we understand that it’s merely a statistic on a map. The problem with soldiers in combat is that they must become actors without proper training, proper professional training… If all the drenched, mud-sunk foot soldiers understood the rules, they’d do as Telly says, and snarl viciously while firing above the heads of other young men they don’t know but might have a drink with in some bar in another time and place.»
«Bullshit! What about values and beliefs? I’ve fought on different sides, but never against what I believed in!»
«Well, then, you’re a moral man, Colonel, and I commend you. However, you also fight for the most questionable motive of all. Money.»
«What are these clowns fighting for?»
«I haven’t the vaguest idea, but I doubt it’s financial remuneration. As I understand it, they’re fulfilling their lifelong theatrical ambitions—in a rather unorthodox way, but obviously with considerable success.»
«I’ll sure as hell give them that,» said Cyrus, turning to Roman Z. «Have you got everything?» he asked.
«Everyzing and everyone, my enduring friend.»
«Good.» The huge chemist turned back to the actors, singled out Dustin, and spoke. «You, shorty, come over here.» The diminutive performer looked questioningly at his comrades. «For God’s sake, man, I just want to talk to you privately. Do you think my friend and I would take on the entire Suicidal Six?»
«I wouldn’t even think of ‘taking on’ him, pilgrim. He may not be your size, but he’s black belt karate to the tenth order, and they don’t come no higher.»
«Oh, come on, Duke, I’d never use that stuff unless we were all in real trouble. And certainly not against a nice guy like the colonel. He’s just upset, I can understand that… Don’t worry, Colonel, I wouldn’t harm you. What is it?» Dustin walked with the stunned Cyrus to a far corner of the suite as the mercenary kept staring down—way down—at the actor. They stood next to a window, the night lights of Boston throwing a glow over the city, and Cyrus spoke quietly.
«You were probably right a few minutes ago when you said I could lose my pension. You see, I did come on late, actually only a few days ago, and I had no reason to think this man wasn’t Hawkins. Hell, from what I’ve seen of him on television, he looks like the general and sounds just like him—why wouldn’t it be him? I’m really grateful, Dustin.»
«That’s okay, Colonel. I’m sure you’d do the same for me if our positions were reversed—say somebody was impersonating Harry Belafonte and you being black knew he wasn’t but I didn’t.»
«What …? Oh, yes, I certainly would, Dustin, I certainly would. But just so I can get a clearer picture of this whole dirty business—officially, you understand, and since we’re both on the same side—just what was your mission?»
«Well, as we’re on a restricted, need-to-know basis and you are a colonel, I’ll tell you what I can, which is all we know. We’re to make contact with General Hawkins, abduct him and everyone else around him, and drive to the SAC air base in Westover—that’s here in Massachusetts.»
«Not back to Air Force Two on the Logan runway?»
«Oh, no, that was for the press conference… You know, the Vice-President isn’t really a bad guy. Of course, I don’t think he can act—»
«He was on the plane?»
«Sure, but he wasn’t allowed to get off until later.»
«Then why was he there?»
«Some gangsters stole one of his cars and it was somehow found here in Boston—»
«Forget it … I mean it’s not germane. So you kidnap the general and anyone accompanying him, drive to the SAC base in Westover, and then what?»
«TBDL, Colonel.»
«I beg your pardon?»
«‘To be determined later,’ but we were told to carry sweaters and long Johns in our duffels, which presumes the climate will be colder.»
«Sweden,» said the mercenary.
«That’s what we figured, but then Sylvester, who was in an overseas tour of Annie in Scandinavia—we hear he was terrific, especially from him—said the summer weather wasn’t that much different from ours.»
«It isn’t.»
«So then we figured far more north—»
«Like in the ice fjords,» completed Cyrus.
«Wherever … we’d receive further orders at that time.»
«Like depositing frozen bodies to be discovered in the year 3000 for medical research.»
«I wouldn’t know anything about that, sir.»
«I would hope not… And outside of this Brigadier General Broke … Brokehethel—»
«That’s Brokemichael, Colonel. Brigadier General Ethelred Brokemichael.»
«It’s okay, I’ve got it. But outside of him, you have no idea who’s responsible for this mission?»
«That’s not in our purview, sir.»
«You can bet your ass it isn’t.»
«Colonel …?»
«We split, Roman,» said Cyrus abruptly, walking rapidly to the hotel door, the Gypsy swiftly at his side, as a loud metallic slap was heard from behind his back. «Don’t try to follow us, it would be useless; we’re as expert in our profession as you are on stage, believe me. And you, Mr. Sutton, I don’t know a hell of a lot about acting, but I suspect you’re one of the best, so you can stay here and jaw with your buddies as long as you like… I’m afraid we used an old mere trick with you tonight. You may have wondered why my friend kept jumping around, studying each of you, so now I’ll tell you. That red carnation in his lapel contains a miniaturized, high-speed camera; we have a minimum of a dozen photographs of each of your faces. And under my jacket I’m wired to the max and still rolling; every word here this evening is recorded.»
«A moment, please!» exclaimed Sir Henry.
«What?» Cyrus reached between the folds of his coat and yanked out a large, ugly .357 Magnum as Roman Z whipped his hand from behind his back, displaying a foot-long switchblade knife.
«My fee,» said Sutton. «Have Aaron send it around by messenger to my flat. And tack on several hundred more, for I intend to take my newfound friends and associates to the finest restaurant in Boston.»