“A small glass? You only had half a glass of the wine.”
It was true, and Rubens did like cognac. He got up and went inside, even though he knew he should leave. He was torturing her, really — he had to say no.
Actually, he was torturing himself. She might not be a knockout beauty, but she was attractive. She was a good cook, much smarter and deeper than he had thought…
Rubens slid into one of the leather club seats. Marshall presented him with a tray and two small cognac glasses.
“To Homeland Security,” he offered.
As the words escaped his mouth, he realized that if he wasn’t in love he was at least in trouble. Never in his life had he said something so lame and ridiculous.
She smiled and clinked his glass gently.
Rubens took a sip. At the first taste, he knew he had been had.
The cognac was clearly Luc Ugni, the distinctive product of a tiny chateau in the heart of the region. The bottle would have been one of 300 the tiny vintner allowed on the market each year — a fact Rubens knew because his family was allotted two.
“Do you like the cognac?” she asked, playing the unsure hostess again.
“Of course I do,” he said. “And I can’t support the ID proposal under any circumstances. It’s not a good idea.”
“Oh, you don’t think that’s why I invited you, do you?” She started to laugh.
Rubens did his best to smile back.
“Well, your support would be useful,” she said: “But that’s all right.”
He waited, watching her.
“On the other hand, if you decided to actually oppose it…”
She let the sentence hang there.
“I’ve already expressed my views, and will if asked,” he told her.
“As a cabinet member—”
“I’m not a cabinet member.”
“I was referring to myself,” she said. “I would be in a position to push for your elevation. You do want State, don’t you?”
Finally she had dropped all pretense. They were two animals confronting each other in the jungle, tiger and tigress. Rubens felt himself relax. This was so much easier to deal with than love.
“If I were offered the position to serve our country in that capacity, I would certainly welcome it,” he said.
“I can guarantee you’ll be offered it,” she said. “Unless you’re my enemy.”
“And I’d be the enemy if I spoke out loudly in opposition of the study?”
“Would you like more cognac?”
68
Every time Karr thought he was feeling better, a surge of dizziness and pain shot through him. The old woman stood over him periodically, shaking her head; twice she had him drink more of her magic elixir.
When it was so dark that Karr could no longer make out the lines in the walls, a helicopter chattered in the distance. Karr surprised himself by managing to get to his feet. He shook Foster, who opened his eyes at him.
“We got to hit the road,” he told the Marine.
Foster growled and closed his eyes but turned over and got to his feet. They were about halfway down the trail toward the level field when Gidrey came up with four U.S. sailors dressed in battle gear. Between their armor and guns they could have subdued a battleship.
“Bus here already?” said Karr.
“Navy sent the shore patrol,” said Gidrey. “Corpsman’s right behind us.”
“Mr. Karr?” said one of the sailors.
“That’s my dad. I’m Tommy.”
“Sir, we’re supposed to ask you to wear a special mask and avoid sharing any bodily fluids.” He put down a large case and then stepped back. “Could you direct Corporal Gidrey to do so as well? And Corporal Foster, sir.”
A wave of dizziness hit Karr as he bent to the case. He knelt over it, then snapped it open. The case contained what looked like firemen’s helmets and visors. Each unit had a large chin portion that snapped onto the sides; this part extended over the visor. There were respirator filters at the bottom of this part.
“I ain’t wearing no gas mask,” said Gidrey.
“Yeah, all right,” said Karr. “Come on, Gidrey, Dad won’t let us borrow the car again if we don’t wear these masks.”
“They think we’re sick?”
“Probably just being cautious,” Karr told him.
“What about them?” asked the Marine, pointing to the villagers who’d come up to see what was going on.
“We’re just supposed to take you out of here,” said the sailor. “After you put the masks on. I’m sorry. Those are our orders.”
“I’ll make sure they’re taken care of,” said Karr.
He turned back toward the knot of villagers who’d gathered behind them. “Thank you. Thank you very much,” he said, bowing his head as a sign of respect though the rushing blood unsettled his balance. “Thank you.”
The old man, who knew a few words of English, nodded as well. The nurse pushed through from the back, thrusting a bottle in his hands. “Red Cross,” she said. “Red Cross.”
“So I’m supposed to take this? What, like every hour or two hours or what?”
The man said something to her and she started talking quickly.
“Hold a second.” Karr took out his handheld computer and hit the voice recorder as she jabbered away.
“We’ll be back,” he promised when she was done. “Red Cross.”
“USA,” said the woman, smiling.
“Yeah, USA.” He smiled back at her, took a swig of the medicine, and headed toward the waiting helicopter.
69
Rubens’ belated realization that he had underestimated and misjudged Ms. Marshall served as a proper chastisement, and by the time he had reached Crypto City from her apartment he had completed a dozen phone calls, gathering the background information that he surely should have compiled earlier. The most informative source proved to be a member of the fourth estate, who was somewhat sympathetic toward Rubens thanks to a handy tip in an earlier domestic matter Rubens had had some firsthand knowledge of. After consulting with a professional gossipmonger, the reporter was able to run down a long list of connections to political donors. More interestingly, he provided the tidbit that Ms. Marshall had filed for bankruptcy a few months before coming east, apparently undone by some poor real estate investments and, it was rumored, a fondness for illicit mind expanders.
Rubens dismissed the drug rumor — clearly Marshall was too much a control freak to allow herself to indulge on a regular basis. But the financial connections accounted for her influence as well as her motivation. And among those connections were two firms with projects in Internet security.
Both had done work for the NSA. Hence the importance of his opinion. Neither had done a particularly
