'His holy warriors slaughtered the defenders of Khartoum and left their bodies in the streets for weeks,' Jones told him. 'As a result, there was an epidemic of typhus. The Mahdi succumbed to the disease just a few months after securing Khartoum.'
' 'Let evil hunt down the violent man speedily,' ' Canon said.
'Psalms 140:11,' Deacon Jones said.
'Yes,' said Canon. 'The Mahdi was doomed the moment he raised a sword against others. But it did not need to be that way; I Corinthians 2:15 says, 'The spiritual man judges all things, but is himself to be judged by no one.' If the Mahdi had been a truly spiritual man, devoted to God and not to glory, he would have preached instead of making war. He would not have been destroyed.'
'To the contrary,' Jones agreed. 'He might have had a more lasting impact. Working among the people here, I have seen deep spirituality,' he said. 'Many of those who have not been persuaded by the teachings of Christ have held tightly to their own faith. I admire their conviction. Faith and truth must be the vehicles of change,' he insisted. 'Otherwise, the result is never permanent.'
Canon grinned. 'Have their beliefs ever made you doubt your own?' the deacon asked.
'No,' he replied. 'But they have made me reexamine it. And every time I do, I come away stronger.'
The men sat in silence then, as they sipped their tea. The sun dropped, and the air cooled quickly. The chill felt good. The silence, settled upon such vastness, was humbling.
Deacon Jones's cell phone beeped. He jumped from the sound and quickly pulled the phone from the pocket of his cassock. He expected it to be the archbishop's secretary.
It was not.
It was Father Bradbury with a surprising request.
EIGHTEEN
Washington, D.C. Thursday, 9:55 A.M.
The meeting with Bob Herbert, Ron Plummer, and Edgar Kline ended with Herbert going off to call Maria and Kline chatting with Hood for several minutes longer. Their conversation ranged from the financial and political health of Botswana to Hood soothing the lingering indignation Kline felt at having been put under surveillance. Hood behaved sympathetically because that was his job. The truth was, he felt a lot like he did when he was mayor of Los Angeles. City officials often expected to be exempted from tasks such as jury duty or waiting in line at amusement parks and crowded restaurants because of who they were. Kline expected to be above suspicion because of who he worked for. Hood rejected both attitudes. The only thing that mattered to him was his responsibility to the rights and security of his constituents. When Kline left to go to New York City, he seemed satisfied, though perhaps not entirely convinced, that Bob Herbert simply had been following Op-Center protocol.
As for Maria, Herbert came back into Hood's office to assure him that she would be ready for the challenge.
Hood had offered to brief Darrell McCaskey as soon as he arrived. Herbert asked to handle that.
'Darrell was not happy to hear that you were contacting a friend at the FBI,' Herbert said. 'But he's going to be a lot less happy when he hears what I'm going to do.'
'I would agree with that,' Hood said dryly.
'If he blows up at me, he can always complain to you. If he blows up at you, he may walk out on us. We don't want him to do that.'
124
OP-CENTER
'But he is going to blow up,' Hood thought aloud.
'Oh yeah,' Herbert said. 'It could be one big blast or a lot of small ones. I'm guessing small ones. He will want to do what's right for Op-Center, so that will stuff the big one down.'
Hood gave him the go-ahead. Besides, there were other things Hood needed to do. His old financial colleague Emmy Feroche had been in a meeting. He left word on her voice mail to call him back. In the meantime, Hood wanted to talk to Shigeo Fujima.
As soon as Herbert left, Hood brought up Fujima's file. He scanned it quickly. The man was thirty-five, married, two children. He held an advanced degree in political science from Tokyo University and another in criminology from the Osaka School of Law. He had been with the Intelligence and Analysis Bureau for seven years. The man obviously had intelligence chops and political savvy. The Japanese were a hierarchical society. To be the head of the IAB at such a young age was very impressive.
After checking Fujima's file, Hood brought up the dossier on Henry Genet. The fifty-three-year-old Antwerp native was a diamond merchant. He was on the board of directors of Beaudin International Industries along with several other movers and shakers of French business and finance.
Hood punched in the telephone number Fujima had left on Herbert's voice mail. The head of the Japanese Intelligence and Analysis Bureau was in a meeting. He left it to take Hood's call.
'Thank you for calling back, Mr. Hood,' Fujima said. 'I'm honored the director of Op-Center would call personally.'
The intelligence officer's voice was calm and respectful, and his manner was unhurried. But that did not mean anything. Japanese officials were always calm and unhurried.
Hood decided to get right to the matter at hand. He did not have time to get into what Martha Mackall used to call the 'plastic bouquet liturgy,' the back-and-forth exchange of insincerely sweet compliments that typified initial conversations with most Japanese officials.
MISSION OF HONOR
