'Well, in case Manny calls—’
'Why not call him yourself and tell him where you are so I will not have to lie. The journalists in this city cannot wait for an Arab to lie; they pounce upon us. The Israelis can say that white is black, or sweet is sour, and their lobby convinces Congress it's for your own good. It is not so with us.'
'Cut it out, Sabri—’
'We must leave you, Evan. We're no good to you, we will be no good to you.'
'What the hell are you talking about?'
'Kashi and I watched the programme this morning. You were most effective, my friend.'
'We'll talk about it later.' He had spent the afternoon watching baseball and drinking whisky. At six-thirty he had turned on the news, one network after another, only to see himself in brief segments from the Foxley show. In disgust, he had switched to an arts channel that showed a film depicting the mating habits of whales off the coast of Tierra del Fuego. He was amazed; he fell asleep.
Today, instinct told him to keep his room key, so he rushed through the Madison's lobby to the elevators. Once inside the room he removed his clothes down to his shorts and lay on the bed. And whether it was a symptom of a repressed ego or sheer curiosity, he turned on the remote control unit and switched the channel to Cable News. Seven minutes later he saw himself walking out of his office.
'Ladies and gentlemen, you have just seen one of the most unusual press conferences this reporter has ever attended. Not only unusual, but unusually one-sided. This fast-term representative from Colorado has raised issues of obvious national importance but refuses to be questioned as to his conclusions. He simply walks away. On his behalf it should be said that he denies “grandstanding” because he apparently is not sure he intends to remain in Washington—which we assume means government—nevertheless his statements were provocative, to say the least.'
The videotape suddenly stopped, replaced by the live face of an anchorwoman. 'We switch now to the Department of Defense where we understand that an under secretary in charge of Strategic Deterrence has a prepared statement. It's yours, Steve.'
Another face, this a dark-haired, blunt-featured reporter with too many teeth who peered into a camera and whispered. 'Under Secretary Jasper Hefflefinger, who manages to be hauled out whenever someone attacks the Pentagon, has rushed into the breach opened by Congressman—who?—Henry, of Wyoming—what?—Colorado! Here is Under Secretary Hefflefinger.'
Another face. A jowled but handsome man, a strong face with a shock of silver hair that demanded attention. And with a voice that would be envied by the most prominent radio announcers of the late thirties and forties. 'I say to the Congressman that we welcome his comments. We want the same thing, sir! The avoidance of catastrophe, the pursuit of liberty and freedom—’
He went on and on, saying everything but also saying nothing, never once addressing the issues of escalation and containment.
Why me? shouted Kendrick to himself. Why me? To hell with it! With everything! He shut off the television set, reached for the phone and called Colorado. 'Hi, Manny,' he said, hearing Weingrass's abrupt hello.
'Boy, are you something!' yelled the old man into the phone. 'I brought you up right, after all!'
'Stow it, Manny, I want out of this shit.'
'You want what? Did you see yourself on TV?
'That's why I want out. Forget the glassed-in steam bath and the gazebo down by the streams. We'll do it later. Let's you and I head back to the Emirates—by way of Paris, naturally—maybe a couple of months in Paris, if you like. Okay?'
'Not okay, you meshuga clown! You got something to say, you say it! I taught you always—whether we lost a contract or not—to say what you believed was right… Okay, okay, maybe we fudged a little on time, but we delivered!. And we never charged for extensions even when we had to pay!'
'Manny, that has nothing to do with what's going on here—’
'It's got everything. You're building something…
