Patriot Games

London, he'd never failed at all. He'd written that off to random chance, pure luck, nothing more. He didn't even think of that in this case. Two in a row, that wasn't luck. He knew that Kevin would not tolerate a third failure. The young operations officer took a deep breath and told himself to be objective. He'd allowed himself to think of Ryan as a personal target, not a political one. That had been his first mistake. Though Kevin hadn't said it, losing Ned had been a serious mistake. Miller reviewed his plan, rethinking every aspect of the operation. Just going after the wife and child would have been simple thuggery, and he'd never approved of that; it was not professional. Just going after Ryan himself, however, would not have carried the same political impact, which was the whole point of the operation. The rest of the family was—had been necessary. So his objectives had been sound enough, but…

'I should have taken more time on this one,' he said finally. 'I tried to be too dramatic. Perhaps we should have waited.'

'Yes,' his boss agreed, pleased that Sean saw his errors.

'Any help we can give you,' Owens said, 'is yours. You know that, Dan.'

'Yeah, well, this has attracted some high-level interest.' Murray held a cable from Director Emil Jacobs himself. 'Well, it was only a matter of time. It had to happen sooner or later.' And if we don't bag these sons of bitches, he thought, it'll happen again. The ULA just proved that terrorists could operate in the U.S. The emotional shock of the event had come as a surprise to Murray. As a professional in the field, he knew that it was mere luck that it hadn't happened already. The inept domestic terrorist groups had set off some bombs and murdered a few people, but the Bureau had experienced considerable success running them to ground. None of them had ever gotten much in the way of foreign support. But that had changed, too. The helicopter pilot had identified one of the escaping terrorists as black, and there weren't many of them in Ireland.

It was a new ball game, and for all his experience in the FBI, Murray was worried about how well the Bureau would be able to handle it. Director Jacobs was right on one thing: this was a top-priority mission. Bill Shaw would run the case personally, and Murray knew him to be one of the best intellects in the business. The thirty agents initially assigned to the case would treble in the next few days, then treble again. The only way to keep this from happening again was to demonstrate that America was too dangerous a place for terrorists. In his heart, Murray knew that this was impossible. No place was too dangerous, certainly no democracy.

But the Bureau did have formidable resources, and it wouldn't be the only agency involved.

17 Recriminations and Decisions

Ryan awoke to find Robby waving a cup of coffee under his nose. Jack had managed to sleep without dreams this time, and the oblivion of undisturbed slumber had worked wonders on him.

'Sissy was over the hospital earlier. She says Cathy looks all right, considering. It's all set up so you can get in to see Sally. She'll be asleep, but you can see her.'

'Where is she?'

'Sissy? She's out runnin' some errands.'

'I need a shave.'

'Me, too. She's getting what we need. First I'm gonna get some food in ya',' Robby said.

'I owe you, man,' Jack said as he stood.

'Give it a rest, Jack. That's what the Lord put us here for, like my pappy says. Now, eat!' Robby commanded.

Jack realized that he'd not eaten anything for a long time, and once his stomach reminded itself of this, it cried out for nourishment. Within five minutes he'd disposed of two eggs, bacon, hash-browns, four slices of toast, and two cups of coffee.

'Shame they don't have grits here,' Robby observed. A knock came to the door. The pilot answered it. Sissy breezed in with a shopping bag in one hand and Jack's briefcase in the other.

'You better freshen up, Jack,' she said. 'Cathy looks better than you do.'

'Nothing unusual about that,' Jack replied—cheerfully, he realized with surprise. Sissy had baited him into it.

'Robby?'

'Yeah?'

'What the hell are grits?'

'You don't want to know,' Cecilia Jackson answered.

'I'll take your word for it.' Jack walked into the bathroom and started the shower. By the time he got out, Robby had shaved, leaving the razor and cream on the sink. Jack scraped his beard away and patched the bloody spots with toilet paper. A new toothbrush was sitting there too, and Ryan emerged from the room looking and feeling like a human being.

'Thanks, guys,' he said.

'I'll take you home tonight,' Robby said. 'I have to teach class tomorrow. You don't. I fixed it with the department.'

'Okay.'

Sissy left for home. Jack and Robby walked over to the hospital. Visiting hours were under way and they were able to walk right up to Cathy's room.

'Well, if it isn't our hero!' Joe Muller was Cathy's father. He was a short, swarthy man—Cathy's hair and complexion came from her mother, now dead. A senior VP with Merrill Lynch, he was a product of the Ivy League, and had started in the brokerage business much as Ryan had, though his brief stint in the military had been two years of drafted service in the Army that he'd long since put behind him. He'd once had big plans for Jack and had never forgiven him for leaving the business. Muller was a passionate man who was also well aware of his importance in the financial community. He and Jack hadn't exchanged a civil word in over three years. It didn't look to Jack as though that was going to change.

'Daddy,' Cathy said, 'we don't need that.'

'Hi, Joe.' Ryan held out his hand. It hung there for five seconds, all by itself. Robby excused himself out the door, and Jack went to kiss his wife. 'Lookin' better, babe.'

'What do you have to say for yourself?' Muller demanded.

'The guy who wanted to kill me was arrested yesterday. The FBI has him,' Jack said carefully. He amazed himself by saying it so calmly. Somehow it seemed a trivial matter compared with his wife and daughter.

'This is all your fault, you know.' Muller had been rehearsing this for hours.

'I know,' Jack conceded the point. He wondered how much more he could back up.

'Daddy—' Cathy started to say.

'You keep out of this,' Muller said to his daughter, a little too sharply for Jack.

'You can say anything you want to me, but don't snap at her,' he warned.

'Oh, you want to protect her, eh? So where the hell were you yesterday!'

'I was in my office, just like you were.'

'You had to stick your nose in where it didn't belong, didn't you? You had to play hero—and you damned near got your family killed,' Muller went on through his lines.

'Look, Mr. Muller.' Jack had told himself all these things before. He could accept the punishment from himself. But not from his father-in-law. 'Unless you know of a company on the exchange that makes a time machine, we can't very well change that, can we? All we can do now is help the authorities find the people who did this.'

'Why didn't you think about all this before, dammit!'

'Daddy, that's enough!' Cathy rejoined the conversation.

'Shut up—this is between us!'

'If you yell at her again, mister, you'll regret it.' Jack needed a release. He hadn't protected his family the previous day, but he could now.

'Calm down, Jack.' His wife didn't know that she was making things worse, but Jack took the cue after a moment. Muller didn't.

'You're a real big guy now, aren't you?'

Keep going, Joe, and you might find out. Jack looked over to his wife and took a