'Then to business, Mr. Milos,' said Khalehla, returning to her meal, again slowly, her eyes on Varak. 'Why Kendrick? Why did you do it? Above all, how did you do it? You tapped into sources that were supposedly untappable! You went in where no one should be able to go and ripped out secrets, stole a theft proof file. Whoever gave you those should be taken out and put in the field so he'd know what it's like to have no protection, to be naked without weapons in the dark streets of a hostile city.'
'Whatever assistance was given to me was rendered by a source who trusted me, who knew where I was coming from, as you phrased it.'
'But why?
‘I’ll give you a limited response, Miss Rashad, and speak only in general terms.'
'Hoorah for you. So give.'
'This country imperatively needs changes in an administration that will undoubtedly be re-elected.'
'Who says so other than the voters?'
'Off limits, except again, in general terms… although I shouldn't have to use even them. You've seen for yourself.'
Khalehla put down her fork and looked at the European. 'San Diego? Vanvlanderen? Grinell?'
'San Diego, Vanvlanderen and Grinell,' repeated the Czech quietly. 'To clarify further: Moneys obviously sent through Zurich and Beirut to the Baaka Valley for the purpose of eliminating a political contender, namely, Congressman Kendrick. And now an apparent attempt to stop a brilliant Secretary of State from attending a disarmament conference whose purpose is to reduce the proliferation—the production of space and nuclear weapons.'
'San Diego,' said Khalehla, leaving her food on the plate. 'Orson Bollinger?'
'An enigma,' replied Varak. 'What does he know? What doesn't he know? No matter, he's the rallying point, the funnel into an unbeatable administration. He has to be replaced, thus eliminating the people around him who order him to march to their drums.'
'But why Evan Kendrick?'
'Because he is now an unbeatable contender.'
'He'll never accept it; he'll tell you to go to hell. You don't know him, I do.'
'A man doesn't necessarily want to do what he must do, Miss Rashad. But he will do it if the reasons are made clear to him why he should.'
'You think that's enough?'
'I don't know Mr. Kendrick personally, of course, but I don't think there's another human being I've studied so closely. He's a remarkable man, yet so realistically modest about his achievements. He made a great deal of money out of an exploding Middle East economy then walked away from millions more because he was morally offended and emotionally distraught. He then entered the political arena for no other reason than to replace a—what did you call me?— scum-rotten, who was lining his pockets in Colorado. Finally, he went to Oman knowing he might not come back for he believed he could help in a crisis. That's not a man you take lightly. He may but you don't.'
'Oh, good Lord,' said Khalehla. 'I'm hearing a variation of my own words.'
'In support of his political advancement?'
'No, to explain why he wasn't a liar. But I should tell you there's another reason why he went back to Oman. It falls under the not too benevolent heading of a kill. He was convinced he knew who was behind the terrorists in Masqat: the same monster who'd been responsible for killing all seventy-eight people who made up the Kendrick Group, including wives and children. He was right; the man was executed according to Arabic law.'
'That's hardly a negative, Miss Rashad.'
'No, it isn't, but it somewhat alters the circumstances.'
'I'd prefer to think it adds a dimension of properly-sought justice, which further confirms our choice of him.'
'Our?'
'Off limits.'
'I repeat, he'll turn it down.'
