'The particle beam weapon. We will reimburse your country for the satellite if you feel that it will prohibit any tension resulting from this demonstration. But, please, check with your communications and electronics intelligence personnel. The satellite was vaporized by a high-frequency particle beam.'
'That Proves noth-'
'That is sad,' the premier remarked. 'I had hoped that it would.' And the line went dead, the premier's phone clicking in the president's ear.
'Marian!' the president rasped into his intercom.
'Yes, Mr. President?'
'Get Mr. Antonais, my science advisor.'
'Sir, he's already on line six.'
'Put him on,' the president said, lighting another cigarette.
'Mr. President?' the Greek-accented voice said.
'Dmitri-did they really-?'
'Yes, Mr. President. The ConVers One was vaporized at precisely-'
'Never mind that,' the president said. 'Get over here. I'll need you.'
The president hung up the phone, leaned into his intercom, and said, 'Hold all calls for about two minutes. I've got to think.'
He switched off, stood, and walked toward the window, looking out into the rose garden. At this time of year, he thought, it wasn't terribly pretty.
Chapter Seventeen
'Some sort of policeman, are you?'
'What? Rourke said, turning away from the window and his view of the snow-littered runway and looking at the blond, ruddy-cheeked man beside him.
'I asked if you were some sort of policeman?'
'No,' Rourke said, starting to turn away. 'Saw you back in the terminal-so covered with snow, looked almost like you'd walked,' the man began, laughing.
'I did walk-what's so funny?' Rourke said.
'Well-I meant with the aluminum cases and all. I'm a shooter myself, you know. Gun cases, weren't they?'
'So what?' Rourke said. Then noticing the belligerence in his own voice he forced a smile then as he did.
'Well, not the ordinary person can take guns in and out of Canada. Rifles, yes, but not handguns. That was what you had in that smaller case, wasn't it?'
'I was up here doing some teaching with the Mounties,' Rourke explained. 'Brought the guns along for a short thing with one of their special units.' He did not mention the counterterrorist squad.
'Going to Atlanta on business. How about you?' the man said, changing the subject.
'I have a place down there, and a farm in the northeast part of the state. So I'm going home.'
'Oh. Well, I won't be home for two weeks. Things to do, a living to make, all that.'
'It sounds fascinating,' Rourke said, turning away to glance back out onto the runway. He turned back and stared toward the front of the first-class cabin, hearing the speakers coming to life. 'This is the captain speaking. Ladies and gentlemen, I'm sorry for all the delays caused by the snow, but it looks like we'll finally be getting off the ground in just another few minutes. I've just been in radio contact with the tower, and we're cleared for approach onto runway four. Looks from here like there are about four planes ahead of us, so it shouldn't be long before we get final clearance for that long-awaited takeoff. Weather reports just south of here show gradual clearing, and once we're over the Great Lakes area, then heading down toward the Smokey Mountains, the weather moderates quite a bit. Atlanta's Hartsfield Airport, our destination, shows clear conditions, present temperatures of high forties with a morning low of the low forties and clear and warming for tomorrow. Since we will be getting underway, if you may have loosened or undone your seat belts, we ask that at this time you check that they are secure. And that all trays and seats are in the upright position. I'll leave the no-smoking signs off for now, but please observe them once we actually get underway. Should you have any questions now or later, please check with the stewardesses as they pass by. Management tells me because of the delays here, cocktails will be complimentary for this trip once we're airborne. So please enjoy your flight and thanks for traveling with us.'
Rourke stared back out the window, automatically tugging at his seatbelt. He realized almost bitterly that if the war came, his lifelong battle of nerves with his wife would be ended. His position would be vindicated. A smile crossed his lips as he remembered something someone had said about the bitter taste of victory-he would have rather lived a lifetime in peace, his time and money invested in survival equipment, and the retreat itself having been all part of being foolishly over-prepared.
'You know, I've spent a long time analyzing world affairs,' Rourke said. The ruddy-cheeked businessman beside him turned and looked at him, saying, 'What? I'm sorry?'
'I said I've spent a long time analyzing world events. I prepared for this-read everything I could get my hands on, trained-'
'What?'
'I knew this was coming.' Finally, then, as if for the first time he noticed the man beside him listening to him, Rourke turned and said, 'Have you been listening to the news? The radio?'
'What? All the war talk? Just sabre rattling, my friend. I wouldn't worry over it. Not a bit.'
