Empire

of like Al Qaeda’s idea of nirvana right there.”

“I don’t think the terrorists planned anything more than what they did today, no,” said Reuben. “But the people using them have to have something more in mind. Surely we didn’t have Steven Phillips inside the White House and whoever ‘shared’ my plans from inside the Pentagon acting out of a desire to see the President and Vice President dead. I’m assuming that these Americans did this with some goal in mind that has nothing to do with Al Qaeda.”

“Destabilization,” said Cole, in English. He continued in Farsi. “But that’s obvious.”

“Yes,” said Reuben, “but we believe in saying the obvious. We’re not here to impress each other with our guessing ability. Except for Benny and Mingo.”

Benny raised an eyebrow, and Mingo handed him a buck.

“What we’re looking for,” said Drew Linnie, who was now a professor at American University, “is what they plan to do next, so we can be there first and catch them with their pants down.”

“An image both colorful and vaguely gay,” said Babe Austin.

“Cui bono?” asked Cat Black, who was a lawyer. “If America is in chaos, who benefits?”

“Showing off by speaking Latin,” muttered Load.

“We can rule out LaMonte Nielson,” said Reuben. “Cessy knows him and he’s a decent guy. Besides, I have a feeling nobody in their right mind would consider being President right now a ‘benefit.’ ”

“Nielson’s going to have this big sympathy thing for a few minutes,” said Cat, “but it’s not likely to translate into a lot of support. He could never have been elected President, and he’s too conservative not to be a lightning rod.”

“Assassinations aren’t enough to really destabilize the country,” said Load Arnsbrach. “We’ve had them before and the country goes on.”

“We’ve had unelected Presidents before, too,” said Benny.

“One, anyway,” said Load.

“So, we’re all political geniuses here,” said Cat. “Anybody else figure that this is only Step A?”

“I think,” said Cole, “that Step B is Major Malich, here. I think that the people who gave the info to the terrorists didn’t care if the assassinations worked or not—the fact that Al Qaeda or whoever it was succeeded might even appall them. The purpose was to set up Major Malich.”

“Reuben,” Reuben corrected him.

“Rube.” Mingo corrected his correction.

“I think to find out who did this, we need to look at Rube,” said Cole—it was clearly painful to break protocol like that—“and see who would benefit from having him put on trial for betraying his country and conspiring to assassinate the President and Vice President.”

“You mean Rube, specifically, or Special Ops war hero Major Reuben Malich, symbolically?” said Arty.

“It’ll be Rube, specifically, who goes to jail,” said Cat.

“So if Rube takes off running,” said Benny. “Or hides. Anything that makes him look guilty. They win. From that moment on they don’t need him alive, because he’s guilty in the public mind. In fact, he’s more useful to them dead. Because nobody will feel much urgency about clearing the name of a dead man.”

“Assume that’s the plan,” said Drew. “Rube is painted as part of the conspiracy and then he’s dead. Excuse me for the hypothetical fatality, Rube.”

“I’m checking my pulse,” said Reuben.

Drew went on. “What, exactly, could anyone do with Rube’s death?”

“Discredit the right wing?” offered Mingo.

“I’m not that right-wing,” said Reuben. “My wife’s a Democrat, for pete’s sake.”

“You don’t have to be an extremist to be called one,” said Mingo. “Hell, you’re a soldier, man. Look at you. The poster child for the anti-war image of the mighty Aryan warrior.”

“I can’t help being an incredibly good-looking Serb in perfect shape,” said Reuben.

“For an old fart in his forties,” said Benny.

“I’m thirty-seven,” said Reuben.

“An old thirty-seven, though.”

“Look,” said Cole, “we still aren’t there yet. What can you do with the image of a red-state warrior who planned the assassination of the President? You can’t win an election with it—the President was a red-stater and his successor is too. Who’s in favor of presidential assassinations? How can you win elections on the basis of being anti-assassin? Who’s your opponent?”

Only now did Reuben put it together. “Who said anything about winning elections?”

“Well, what else?” said Mingo.

“Maybe it’s not my being a red-stater. Maybe it’s about my being Special Ops. The elite of the Army. Maybe it’s an attack on the military.”

“The p.c. crowd attacks the Army all the time,” said Load dis-missively. “They’ve never let go of the Vietnam-era baby-killer slogan.”

“Yes, but sane people ignore them. Not now,” said Reuben.

“This still isn’t it,” said Drew. “Nothing in this justifies such a monstrous act.”

“Al Qaeda—” began Cat.

“They’re in the monstrous-act business,” said Load. “It’s the other guys. The American guys. Why would they go after Reuben, the Symbol of Militariness? Why discredit the Army in such a drastic way?”

Babe slumped farther down in his chair. That meant that he was about to say something he thought was important. Sometimes it even was. “I don’t think we’re going to find out what they mean to do with Rube until they do it.”

“But then he’ll be dead,” said Arty.

“Since we won’t let anybody kill him,” said Babe, “what I mean is this: We have to see how the story is spun, and who does the spinning. Then we’ll know what they set him up for.”

“So we do nothing?” said Cole.

“Not at all,” said Babe. “What we got to do is, don’t give them anything to work with. And meanwhile, we spin back. Or, I guess, Rube spins back.”

“Nothing for them to work with,” said Reuben. “So you mean I shouldn’t go to Jersey? Nothing that could look like I’m hiding?”

“No, I mean you should talk to the press first,” said Babe.

“About what? All my work was classified.”

“How long do you think that’ll last, once they start leaking about how you came up with the plans?” said Babe. “How classified do you think any of this shit will stay when the investigation turns ugly and political?”

“It’s a crime to reveal classified information.”

“That became irrelevant the second your classified information was used to kill the President,” said Babe. “Besides, just the fact that you met with us here, that’s already enough for the press to infer a conspiracy.”

“Babe’s right about that,” said Load. “The fact that he ditched a tail is probably enough. Shows a guilty conscience, right, Cat?”

“You watch too much Law and Order, Load,” said Cat.

Cole laughed in disbelief. “Come on, are you saying Major Malich should hold a press conference?”

“No,” said Babe. “You got to announce those in advance and the feds can shut you down. I think that right now, while he’s still not being tailed, we get his ass over to The Washington Post?’

“Why The Post?” said Reuben. “Why do I have to go to the people who are most dying to destroy me?”

“Because their story will get picked up and used everywhere,” said Babe. “Even if they mock you for it, your statement that somebody deliberately set you up to take the fall for this will resonate with people. Then, if somebody kills you, it will backfire on them. A lot of people will believe that someone killed you to shut you up.”

“I don’t want to find out what people believe about why I was murdered,” said