past. We must not look upon ourselves as English-Canadian or Anglo-American or French Canadian or Mexican- American. We must all look upon ourselves as simply Americans. Because that's what we are, North Americans…...'
The ministers of Parliament and the premiers of the provinces reflected varied degrees of emotion. Some sat quietly enraged, some showed thoughtful contemplation, others nodded as though in agreement. It was clear the President was not holding the treaty over their heads like a club. He made no demands or threats. But they never doubted for a moment that the power was there. '…... our histories are closely entwined, our people strikingly similar in life-styles and outlook. The only fundamental difference between us is a viewpoint toward tradition…...'
'If the provinces of Canada decide to go separate ways, they face a long and difficult journey that can only end in collision with others. For the good of all, this must not happen. Therefore, I call upon you to join with me in building the mightiest nation on earth…... the United States of Canada.'
In the Senate chamber the applause was mild and scattered after the President's address. The listeners sat numb, unsure of how to take his proposal for a single nation. The unthinkable had at last been brought out in the open.
Mercier sighed and turned off the TV monitor. 'Well, it's begun,' he said softly.
Oates nodded. 'Thank God the treaty got here in time, or we might have witnessed a political disaster.'
Instinctively they all turned to voice their thanks to the man who had done so much to incur their debt.
But Dirk Pitt had fallen sound asleep.
The Prime Minister's Rolls braked to a stop before the huge jetliner bearing the presidential seal. Secret Service men exited the cars behind and discreetly placed themselves around the boarding ramp.
Inside, Sarveux leaned forward and unfolded a hurled walnut vanity table from the rear of the front seat. Then he opened a cabinet, produced a crystal decanter of Seagrams Crown Royal whiskey and poured two small goblets.
'Here's to two old and close friends who have covered a long haul.'
'That we have,' said the President, with a weary sigh. 'If anyone ever found out how you and I secretly worked together all these years to formulate a single-nation concept, we'd both be shot for treason.'
Sarveux smiled faintly. 'Drummed out of public office perhaps, but surely not shot.'
The President thoughtfully sipped the whiskey. 'Strange how a casual conversation between a young minister of Parliament and a freshman senator in front of a fireplace at a hunting lodge so many years ago could change the course of history.'
'The right time and place for a chance meeting of two men who shared the same dream,' said Sarveux, thinking back.
'The merging of the United States and Canada is inevitable. If not in the next two years, then in the next two hundred. You and I simply worked together to advance the timetable.'
'I hope we don't live to regret it.'
'A unified continent with nearly the population and land mass of the Soviet Union is nothing to regret. It may well prove to be the salvation of both countries.'
'The United States of Canada,' said Sarveux. 'I like the sound.'
'How do you read the future?'
'The Maritime Provinces-Newfoundland, Nova Scotia and New brunswick-are now cut off from the rest of Canada by an independent Quebec. They'll see it in their best interests to apply for statehood in the coming months. Manitoba and Saskatchewan will follow. An easy decision for them, because they've always had close ties with your northwestern farm states. Next, my guess is that British Columbia will open negotiations. Then with the Pacific and Atlantic ocean ports gone, the other provinces will gradually fall into line.'
'And Quebec?'
'The French will temporarily exult in their independence. But in the cold light of unavoidable economic hardship, they'll come to accept statehood as a pretty good bargain after all.'
'And Britain. How will they react?'
'Same as they did with India, South Africa and the other colonies. Bid a reluctant goodbye.'
'What are your plans, my friend?'
'I shall run for President of Quebec,' Sarveux answered.
'I don't envy you. It will be a hard, dirty fight.'
'Yes, but if I win, we win. Quebec will be one step closer to joining the union. And most important, I'll be in a position to guarantee the flow of electrical energy from James Bay and make sure that you are included and benefit from the development of your oil-field discovery in Ungava Bay.'
The President set his empty goblet on the vanity table and looked at Sarveux. 'I'm sorry about Danielle. The decision to tell you about her liaison with Henri Villon didn't come easy. I wasn't certain how you'd take it or if you'd even believe me.'
'I believed you,' said Sarveux sadly. 'I believed you because I knew it to be true.'
'If only there had been another way.'
'There wasn't.'
Nothing was left to say. The President opened the car door. Sarveux took hold of his arm and held him back. 'One final question must be settled between us,' he said.
'Go ahead.'
'The North American Treaty. If all else fails, will you force Canada to abide by the terms?'
'Yes,' the President replied, and there was a hard glint in his eyes. 'There is no turning back now. If I have to, I will not hesitate to enforce the treaty.'
It was raining when Heidi limped into the TWA passenger boarding lounge at Kennedy Airport, a drenching New York downpour that tore away leaves and slowed rush-hour traffic to a caterpillar crawl. She wore her navy uniform under a blue raincoat, and her water-specked hair spilled from below a regulation white cap. She dropped a large shoulder bag to the carpet and, carefully balancing on her good leg, eased into a vacant seat.
After the whirlwind events of the past several weeks, the prospect of returning to the routine of duty depressed her. She had not seen Pitt since he rushed off to Ottawa, and the marines guarding Brian Shaw had refused to let her near him before he was carried unconscious into an ambulance that sped away to a military hospital. In the excitement she had been nearly forgotten. It was only through the thoughtfulness of Admiral Sandecker that she had been driven to New York for a well-deserved sleep at the Plaza Hotel and booked first-class on a flight back to her station in San Diego the following day.
She stared through the window at the rain forming lakes on the runway and reflecting the multicolored lights in two dimensions. If she had been alone she would have allowed herself the indulgence of a good cry. She felt a deep sense of longing as she remembered how Shaw touched her. He had invaded her life and she was resentful now of the love he had taken. But there was no remorse, only annoyance with herself for losing control.
Blind and deaf to the people milling around her, she tried to put her feelings and the shameful actions of the past few weeks from her mind.
'I've seen melancholy creatures before,' said a familiar voice beside her, 'but, lady, you take the prize.'
'Does it show that much?' she asked, surprised at how calm her voice sounded.
'Like a black cloud over a sunset,' replied Pitt with his devilish smile. He was dressed in a navy-blue sport jacket with red Breton slacks and wallaby shirt. He looked down at her over a monstrous bouquet of mixed flowers. 'You didn't think I was going to let you slink away without saying goodbye?'
'At least somebody remembered.' She felt damp and straggly and tired and hurt and rejected. 'Pay no heed if I sound bitchy. This is my night for self-sympathy.'
'Maybe these will help.' He laid the flowers in her lap. The bouquet was so immense she could hardly see over the top.
'They're gorgeous,' said Heidi. 'I think I'll cry now.'
'Please don't.' Pitt laughed softly. 'I've always wanted to buy out a flower store for a beautiful girl. Embarrass me and I may never do it again.'
She pulled Pitt down, kissed him on the cheek and fought back the tears. 'Thank you, Dirk. You'll always be my dearest friend.
'A friend?' He feigned a hurt look. 'Is that the best I can do?'
