'That boy!' the man said finally, as Christopher began to weave his way through a group of Japanese businessmen that stood between him and the elevator. 'It's him. I know it is.' Trying to recover from the apparent shock while there was still a chance to act, he yelled, 'Stop him! Someone stop that boy!' But no one moved except to look around to see what was happening. The former U.N. Assistant Secretary-General had no time to explain or to wait for the others to get their bearings. He pushed his attendants aside and ran after the boy himself. He made a remarkable effort for a man his age but there was no real contest; his momentary hesitation had cost him his chance. Christopher was on the elevator and the doors closed behind him.
There had only been an instant of indecision, a moment's hesitation, but it was enough to make all the difference. Christopher was gone. 'No! It's not fair,' the man said, without explanation. He took no notice as the others rejoined him. They stared at him and at each other in confusion, hoping to find some hint of meaning to the strange episode.
'No!' he said again. 'It wasn't supposed to be like this. It's not fair! I didn't even get to talk to him.' His voice was now barely audible. No one had any idea of the significance of what had just taken place, or what the old man was saying, and he seemed to have no interest in letting them in on it. Then a thought occurred to him. 'Alice,' he said. 'I must find Alice.'
After the tour, Christopher looked for Decker but was met instead by a young aide sent by Ambassador Hansen to retrieve him. When they arrived at Hansen's office, Decker was just preparing to leave. 'Well, Christopher,' Jon Hansen asked, 'how was your tour?'
Christopher was about to answer when a thin bald man with an auburn-red mustache and a deadly serious expression rushed through the open door into Hansen's office. Every eye in the outer office was on the man, their faces taking on a uniform look of dread. It seemed that they all recognized him, and though no one tried to stop him, it was clear there was something to be feared about this man's arrival.
'Jon, they've done it,' the man said in a thick German accent. 'I just talked to Fahd, and he confirmed that Syria, Jordan, Iraq, and Libya have launched a united attack against Israel.'
'Damn!' said Hansen. 'When did it happen?'
'Only moments before Fahd called. The Syrians have attacked from the north, along their mutual border with Israel and through Lebanon. Jordanian and Iraqi forces have launched a joint attack from the east. Syria, Libya, and Iraq have launched coordinated air strikes against Israeli airfields. There's no word yet on damage or whether the Israelis were able to get their planes off the ground.'
'Damn!' Hansen said again.
Decker and Christopher had backed away to keep from interfering with what was going on, but both listened intently to the conversation, and apparently no one cared. It would all be on the news soon anyway.
As Hansen and the other man talked, they were interrupted by the tall blonde woman. 'Father,' she said, 'Ambassador Rogers is on the phone and says he must speak with you immediately.' Her manner was calm and typical of her high upbringing, but Decker could sense the concern in her voice… That, plus the fact that she had called him 'Father,' rather than 'Mr. Ambassador.'
Decker had no idea who Ambassador Rogers was, but it seemed both Hansen and the German were very anxious to talk with him. 'Hello, Frank,' Hansen said. 'This is Jon. Ambassador Reichman is here with me. I understand that it's hit the fan over there. What can you tell us about the situation?' Hansen paused to listen but the look on his face said that he wasn't prepared for Rogers' answer.
'Tel Aviv! In the city?' Hansen said into the receiver in dismay. 'Are you sure it's not just the military bases around there?'
Decker's ears perked up and he listened with new interest.
Hansen paused again and then put his hand over the phone and spoke to Reichman. 'They're shelling civilian areas of Tel Aviv. Rogers says scores of bombs have already fallen.'
Up until now, Decker had been satisfied just to listen to the Ambassadors' conversation, but now he had a personal stake in what was happening. He, too, broke with formality and came right up to the two men.
Hansen didn't seem to even notice the breach of protocol, but continued to listen to Ambassador Rogers on the phone. 'Frank, are you all right?' he asked with some concern. Is the embassy in any danger?' Rogers' answer seemed to reassure Hansen about the immediate safety of the embassy staff.
'Okay, Frank,' he said after another pause. 'Hold on, I'll do it right now. Jackie!' Hansen said, directing his eyes to his daughter. 'Get the Syrian Ambassador, the Russian Ambassador, and the Iraqi Ambassador on the phone right away, and in that order!'
The momentary break in the phone conversation allowed Hansen's glance to pass to Decker, who took advantage of the opportunity. 'Tom Donafin is still in the hospital over there!'
Hansen paused for a brief fraction of a second, his eyes intently fixed on Decker's. The look on his face was of sincere concern but he did not answer. He had greater, more immediate concerns and responsibilities. He spoke back into the phone. 'Frank, I'll apply every ounce of pressure that I can on this end to get them to stop bombing civilian targets, but I don't know what good it will do. It would help if you can give me a few specifics on what parts of the city are being hit and how much damage has been done.' Hansen grabbed a pen and paper from his desk and began taking notes, every few seconds letting out an 'Uh huh.'
Decker realized the comparative triviality of his plea and stepped into the background.
'I have the Syrian Ambassador's office on the phone, Mr. Ambassador,' Hansen's daughter said, this time remembering to use the proper title. 'He'll pick up as soon as you're on the phone.'
Hansen was still writing and listening, while looking up at his daughter. 'Frank, I've got Ambassador Murabi on the other phone. I'll talk to him first and then make the other calls. If I don't call you back within fifteen minutes, then you call me.'
Hansen was just about to hang up when he remembered something and put the phone back to his ear. 'Frank,' he said loudly into the mouthpiece, hoping to catch Ambassador Rogers before he hung up. There was a brief anxious silence and then he continued. 'Frank, one other thing. It's a personal favor. You recall those two Yanks I brought back from Lebanon? Well, one of them is here with me in the office and he says that the other is still in the hospital there in Tel Aviv.' Hansen listened. Decker listened. 'Yes, that's right.' Ambassador Hansen looked at Decker, his inquisitive glance requesting details.
'The Tel-Hashomer Hospital in Tel Aviv,' Decker responded.
'Tel Hashomer,' Hansen repeated. 'His name is Tom Donafin. How much longer is he supposed to be there?' he asked, looking over at Decker.
'He's supposed to get out any day. They were just keeping him for observation after his final surgery last week,' Decker answered.
'Frank,' Hansen said back into the phone, 'apparently he can leave anytime. If you could have someone check up on him, and if he's fit to travel, get him on a plane out of there.'
Hansen hung up the phone and acknowledged Decker's look of appreciation. 'Rogers is a good man. He'll do what he can.' Decker didn't have a chance to reply before Hansen continued. 'Right now though,' he said as he poised his finger above the blinking light on the phone, 'I'm afraid I have to ask you to leave.' Decker began to move toward the door. 'Leave your number with Jackie and we'll call you if we hear anything about Tom.'
Robert Milner, former Assistant Secretary-General of the United Nations, came through the door of the Lucius Trust with the energy of a man half his age. 'I must speak to Alice,' he hurriedly told the receptionist. 'Where is she?' He didn't wait for an answer, but moved quickly around the young woman's desk toward Alice Bernley's office.
'I'm sorry, Mr. Secretary, Ms. Bernley isn't in,' the receptionist said, but Milner's momentum carried him the rest of the way to Bernley's office door.
'Where is she? I must speak with her immediately!' he said, as he moved crisply through a 180 degree turn back towards the receptionist.
'She didn't say. But I expect her back any minute.'
Milner's energy seemed to lose direction as he began aimlessly, anxiously to pace the floor of the Trust's front office. The receptionist offered Milner a cup of herbal tea, which he accepted but didn't drink.
Twenty minutes passed before Milner saw the red-haired Alice Bernley returning to her office from across the U.N. Plaza. She was walking quickly, excitedly, but not fast enough to satisfy Milner, who ran to meet her. As she saw him coming toward her, she quickened her pace. Almost in unison they called out the other's first name: 'Alice!' he said.
