'And now five.'
'He's-he's-a-'
'Mr. Moon, are you prepared to take Mr. Hickman into custody for the purpose of exec-'
'Ramon Santiago!' Hickman blurted. 'But I beg of you, sir, don't-'
'Mr. Moon.'
'Please! No!'
David heard Moon on his cell phone. 'Moon here. Listen, take Santiago into custody… Right, the one from Peacekeeping… right now… yes. Till I get there.' ''You'll let me handle it personally, Walter?'
'As you wish.'
'No! Please!'
'James, when it is announced tomorrow that a Peacekeeping deputy commander has been put to death, you at least will understand the gravity of the rules, won't you?'
David heard assent through Hickman's sobs. Apparently that wasn't good enough for Carpathia.
'Won't you, Supreme Commander?'
'Yes!'
'I thought so. And yes, I have need of a pig. A big, fat, juicy, huge-nostriled beast so overfed that it will be too lethargic to throw me, should I choose to ride it through the Via Dolorosa in the Holy City. Tell me, Hickman. Tell me about my pig.'
'I haven't actually seen it yet,' Hickman said miserably, 'but-'
'But you understand my order.'
'Yes.' His voice was shaky.
'Big, fat, and ugly?'
'Yeah.'
'I didn't hear you, James. Stinky? May I have him smelly?'
'Yeah.'
'Whatever I want?'
'Yes!'
'Are you angry with me, my loyal servant?'
'Uh-huh.'
'Well, thank you for your honesty. Do you understand that I want an animal that could accommodate my fist in either nostril?'
David jumped at the knock on his door. Mac and Abdullah had arrived.
FIFTEEN
Buck felt his age and was embarrassed to disembark in Kozani, Greece, with a severe case of jet lag that didn't seem to bother the older Albie. And Albie, of course, had done all the flying.
'Use it to your advantage,' Albie said.
'How so?'
'It should make you cranky.'
'I'm pretty even.'
'Well, quit that. You're just being polite. Your natural instinct, when you'd rather be in bed, is to be testy, short, irritable. Go with it. GC Peacekeepers are macho, in charge. They have an attitude.'
'So I've noticed.'
'Don't ask-don't apologize. You're a busy man, on assignment, with things to do.'
'Got it.'
'Do you?'
'I think so.'
'That didn't sound so macho.'
'I've got to be that way with you too?'
'At least practice, Buck. You Americans, I swear. I had to shame your father-in-law into being the leader he was born to be. You're an international journalist and you can't playact to get things done?'
'I think I can.'
'Well, show me. How did you get the big stories, get access to the best interview subjects?'
'I used the power of my position.'
'Exactly.'
'But I was working for Global Weekly.'
'More than that. You were Buck Williams, the Buck Williams of Global Weekly. It may have been your talent and your writing that made you the Buck Williams, but once you were him, you walked with confidence, didn't you?'
'I guess.'
'I guess,' Albie mocked. 'Come on, Buck! You strutted!'
'You want me to strut?'
'I want you to get us a vehicle to drive to the detention center where Pastor Demeter and Mrs. Miklos and several others from their church are incarcerated.'
'But wouldn't it be easier for you?'
'Why?'
'You're the superior officer. You outrank everybody we'll run into.'
'Then take advantage of that. I'll be the one everybody sees but no one mentions. They will only salute. You speak with my authority. And you're wearing that beautiful uniform, tailored at Chez Zeke.'
'I'll try.'
'You're hopeless.'
'I can do this.'
'You're not giving me confidence.'
'Watch me.'
'That's what I'm afraid of. I'll be watching you get found out. Prove me wrong, Buck.'
'Outta my way, old man.'
'That's the spirit.'
'You going to have them refuel us while we're in Ptolemai's?'
'No, Buck, you are.'
'C'mon. I don't know all that plane stuff.'
'Just do it. From this point on, I am an angry, jet-lagged, ill-tempered deputy commander, and I don't want to speak.'
'So it's all on me?'
'Don't ask me. I'm mute.'
'Are you serious?'
But Albie wouldn't answer. The twinkle faded from his eyes and he set his jaw, scowling as they marched from the jet to the terminal, about twenty-five miles south of their destination. Buck accosted the first corporal he saw. 'English?' he asked the young man.
''Course. 'Sup?'
'I need you to hangar that aircraft and refuel it while my commanding officer and I are on assignment up the road.'
'Yeah? Well, I want you to shine my boots while I'm sleeping.'
'I'll pretend I didn't hear that, son.'
'Yeah, good. Me too.'
He started to leave and Buck swung him around with a grab of his shoulder. 'Do it.'
'You think I know how to jockey a plane? I'm ground forces, pal. Get some other lackey to do it.'
