'Or is it possible that a new ambitious congressman who speaks some Arabic,' went on Swann rapidly, quietly, unpleasantly, 'elaborates on a few cloakroom rumours about a certain section over here and decides to insert himself for a little political mileage down the road? It wouldn't be the first time.'
Kendrick sat motionless in the chair, his face without expression, but not his eyes. They were at once observant and angry. 'That's offensive,' he said.
'I'm easily offended under the circumstances. Eleven of our people have been killed, mister, including three women. Two hundred and thirty-six others are waiting to get their heads blown off! And I ask you if you can really help and you tell me you don't know, but you have to offer! To me that has the sound of a hissing snake so I watch my step. You walk in here with a language you probably learned making big bucks with some oil company and figure that entitles you to special consideration—maybe you're a “consultant”; it has a nice ring to it. A freshman pol is suddenly a consultant to the State Department during a national crisis. Whichever way it goes, you win. That'd lift a few hats in Colorado's ninth district, wouldn't it?'
'I imagine it would if anyone knew about it.'
'What?' Once again the deputy director stared at the congressman, not so much in irritation now but because of something else. Did he know him?
'You're under a lot of stress so I won't add to it. But if what you're thinking is a barrier, let's get over it. If you decide I might be of some value to you, the only way I'd agree is with a written guarantee of anonymity, no other way. No one's to know I've been here. I never talked to you or anyone else.'
Nonplussed, Swann leaned back in his chair and brought his hand to his chin. 'I do know you,' he said softly.
'We've never met.'
'Say what you want to say, Congressman. Start somewhere.'
'I'll start eight hours ago,' began Kendrick. 'I've been riding the Colorado white water into Arizona for almost a month—that's the Benedictine retreat you conjured up for the congressional recess. I passed through Lava Falls and reached a base camp. There were people there, of course, and it was the first time I'd heard a radio in nearly four weeks.'
'Four weeks?' repeated Swann. 'You've been out of touch all that time? Do you do this sort of thing often?'
'Pretty much every year,' answered Kendrick. 'It's become kind of a ritual,' he added quietly. 'I go alone; it's not pertinent.'
'Some politician,' said the deputy, absently picking up a pencil. 'You can forget the world, Congressman, but you still have a constituency.'
'No politician,' replied Evan Kendrick, permitting himself a slight smile. 'And my constituency's an accident, believe me. Anyway, I heard the news and moved as fast as I could. I hired a river plane to fly me to Flagstaff and tried to charter a jet to Washington. It was too late at night, too late to clear a flight plan, so I flew on to Phoenix and caught the earliest plane here. Those in-flight phones are a marvel. I'm afraid I monopolized one, talking to a very experienced secretary and a number of other people. I apologize for the way I look; the airline provided a razor but I didn't want to take the time to go home and change clothes. I'm here, Mr. Swann, and you're the man I want to see. I may be of absolutely no help to you, and I'm sure you'll tell me if I'm not. But to repeat, I had to offer.'
While his visitor spoke, the deputy had written the name 'Kendrick' on the pad in front of him. Actually, he had written it several times, underlining the name. Kendrick. Kendrick. Kendrick. 'Offer what?' he asked, frowning and looking up at the odd intruder. ' What, Congressman?'
'Whatever I know about the area and the various factions operating over there. Oman, the Emirates, Bahrain, Qatar—Masqat, Dubai, Abu Dhabi—up to Kuwait and down to Riyadh. I lived in those places. I worked there. I know them very well.'
'You lived—worked—all over the Southwest map?'
'Yes. I spent eighteen months in Masqat alone. Under contract to the family.'
'The sultan?'
'The late sultan; he died two or three years ago, I think. But yes, under contract to him and his ministers. They were a tough group and good. You had to know your business.'
