“I know you do,” she said. “So tell me, are you looking forward to the new year?”
“Actually, I never have liked New Year’s Eve,” he said. “It always seems like a big disappointment to me. I don’t know why.”
“I feel exactly the same way.”
“You do?”
“Yes. I’ve been to small parties and big ones, I’ve stayed home and I’ve gone to night clubs, and it’s always the same thing. A big buildup to an even bigger letdown.”
“Gee,” he said.
“Yes,” she said.
There was a short silence.
“Miss Belandres …” he said.
“Antonia,” she said.
“Antonia,” he said. “I know this is short notice …”
Silence again. He could hear her breathing on the other end of the line.
“But I was …ah … wondering …”
“Yes, Lieutenant?”
“If you don’t … ah … have any other plans …”
“Yes?”
“Do you think you might care to have dinner with me tonight?”
“Why, I think that would be lovely,” she said.
“Good,” he said at once. “Good. Does seven o’clock sound convenient to you?”
“Seven o’clock sounds lovely.”
“Do you like Italian food?”
“I love Italian food.”
“Seven o’clock then, good,” he said. “Good. Where shall I pick you up?”
“It’s 347 South Shelby, apartment 12C.”
“I’ll be there at seven on the dorothy,” he said.
“I’ll be waiting,” she said.
He was thinking, Antonia, you and me are going to be millionaires.
“THIS IS CLARENDON HALL,” Mahmoud said.
Nikmaddu wished the man’s little mustache didn’t make him look as if he were constantly smiling. This was a serious matter here.
“Jassim will be sitting here, in row F in the center section.”
Jassim of the dirty fingernails and no smile nodded. He was familiar with the seating plan, knew exactly what he was to do tomorrow night.
“Seat number 101 on the aisle,” Mahmoud said.
Nikmaddu looked at the plan more closely.
“If we’re lucky,” Mahmoud said, “the explosion will carry to the stage. If not, we will have made our point, anyway.”
“Killing the Jew is not the point, you understand,” Akbar said. The desert camel driver, deep creases on his brown face, thick veins on the backs of his strong hands. Their demolitions expert. “We are teaching them that we can strike anywhere, anytime. We are telling them that they are completely vulnerable. Unless they wish to strip- search every American entering a theater, a movie house, a concert hall, a restaurant, a coffee shop, a supermarket, anywhere. They are at our mercy, is what we will be proving to them tomorrow night.”
“Still, getting the Jew would be a bonus,” Jassim said.
“But not apriority,” Akbar insisted. “If we get the Jew, fine. If not, many others will die. Our point will be made.”
“To die for Allah would be an honor,” Jassim said. He was the one going in with the bomb. By rights, he should have the last word. But Akbar had fashioned the bomb and the timing device.
“Akbar is right,” Nikmaddu said. “It will be better if no sacrifice were involved this time.” He was referring to the suicide bombing of the United States destroyer in Yemen. “We must let them know we are professionals, not fanatics.”
Jassim took this as a personal affront. He gave Nikmaddu what he hoped was a disdainful look, and then lighted a cigarette.
“When will this happen?” Nikmaddu asked.
“After the intermission,” Akbar said.
