The Hand of War Read online

  “No! Lacklan! Can’t you see? It is precisely this bullying, aggressive attitude that makes it impossible to work with you! If there was one thing your father was right about, it was this!”

  “OK, OK, OK! With the greatest respect for Professor Gibbons, you are better qualified to know whether I can be trusted or not than he is.” A long silence. “And you know I can be.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  It was my turn to sigh. “Let’s talk, in person. Then take me to meet Gibbons. There is a lot I can tell you about Omega.” I hesitated, then said with heavy meaning, “We need each other, Marni. You know we do.”

  She was silent for a long moment. Then, “It’s a shame you didn’t realize that five years ago in London.”

  “Yes. I made a mistake. But this is not the time to discuss that.”

  “OK, Lacklan. I’ll talk to Philip.”

  “You leaving the decision up to him?”

  “No. We’ll meet, but I need to discuss it with him. I’ll get back to you.”

  “When?”

  “Soon, Lacklan! Stop pushing so hard. In the next day or so.”

  I thought for a second. “They are hunting for you, you know that. The longer we delay, the greater the danger to you. Don’t spend a week agonizing over this, Marni. You made a decision—the right decision—now we need to act.”

  “I know. Stop pushing! I’ll get back to you.”

  And then the line was dead.

  I finished my beer, went inside, dropped my phone on the bookcase, and threw myself on the sofa. After a while, to numb the ache of the silence, I switched on the TV. I scrolled through the channels, not seeing the images or listening to the voices, just searching for something I didn’t know and couldn’t find. Finally I got up and went to the kitchen to make some early lunch. I’d left the TV on a news channel, and as I cracked eggs into a bowl and started beating them, the litany droned in the background. I put the toast in the toaster, and went to lean on the doorjamb.

  “…in a surprise development, former President Dick Hennessy is to address the United Nations Conference on Climate Change and Overpopulation next week, replacing former Vice President Al Gore. Alia Fadel interviewed him for the Right Now Program this morning…”

  The screen was filled suddenly with the image of Alia Fadel sitting in a comfortable chair, gazing at Dick Hennessy. He was starting to look old, but he still had the eyes and the smile of a letch. She was nodding while he was talking.

  “I’m real glad, Alia, that the United Nations has organized this conference, especially in view of the fact that we have pulled out of the Paris Accord. World leaders really need to get around the table and talk these issues through. As you know, Al has had a deep interest in climate change for a long time, and I know he was real excited about addressing the delegates, so when he asked me to stand in for him, I was real honored to accept…”

  The shot cut back to the studio and the anchorman. “And you can catch the whole interview later this evening at a quarter after six…”

  I went back to the kitchen and poured the beaten eggs into hot butter. As I watched it congeal I wondered to myself if there had ever been a time in human history when mankind had not been divided into parasites and hosts; the few, spreading fear—terror—and the many, pliantly believing what they were told, and offering up their lifeblood in exchange for… For what? The promise of guidance and leadership toward a promised land that was always just beyond the horizon, but never reached.

  Because once you reach the promised land, the one thing you no longer need, is a leader.

  Two

  The call came at seven AM the next day, as I was stepping out of the shower after my morning run. I dried my hands and my hair and wrapped the towel around me before answering. The screen displayed a cell number I didn’t recognize.

  “Yeah, Walker.”

  The voice that answered was English and cultured, and had that unmistakable Oxford resonance to it. “Good morning, Mr. Walker. This is Professor Gibbons. Forgive me for calling so early, Marni said you would be up.”

  I knew what he was going to say, but I asked anyway. “What can I do for you, Professor Gibbons?”

  “I wonder if we could meet and talk.”

  “I’m sorry. I have to keep my schedule free.”

  There was a barely perceptible sigh. “May I ask what for, Mr. Walker?”

  I could feel the anger building in my belly and tried to control it. “I am expecting to meet Marni.”

  “That is what I want to talk to you about…”

  “No. That is what I am going to talk to Marni about, because, Professor Gibbons, my meeting with her is none of your business.”

  “That is where you are mistaken, Mr. Walker. It is very much my business.”

  “How’s that?”

  “I can’t discuss it with you on the telephone. Please, meet me at the Bethesda Fountain at nine o’clock this morning. I assure you, you won’t miss your meeting with Marni. And, Mr. Walker…?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Try not to confirm all the preconceptions I have about you. I would actually like to be proved wrong.”

  “Screw you, Professor Gibbons. I’ll see you at nine.”

  I had scrambled eggs on rye and a pot of strong, black coffee. Then I walked the two miles to Bethesda Terrace through the morning sunshine, watching the joggers, the skaters, the people on bicycles and those walking quickly in business suits, some carrying attaché cases, others wearing stupid mini rucksacks on their backs. But if I saw five hundred people that morning, of all types, shapes and sizes, five hundred of them were connected in some way to a device. They were either staring at a screen or they had something plugged into their ears; at least half had both. I wondered how long it was since any of them had noticed a bird sing. But then I realized, there was probably an app for that.

  You could go to Central Park, plug in, and listen to birds singing on your iPhone.

  Gibbons arrived early. I’d found a place to sit in the shade of a large hickory, and I was watching who arrived, who left, and who stayed. At that time of the morning, very few people stayed more than a couple of minutes. So it looked as though he was going to arrive alone.

  At ten to nine I saw him approach through the trees, from the direction of 5th Avenue. He was about five-ten, with receding white hair and a paunch. He stopped by the side of the fountain and scanned the area. He made no attempt to be discreet or to hide the fact that he was looking for somebody. You had to wonder at these clowns, thinking that I was a liability. I stood and walked over to him, approaching from behind. When I was six inches away, I said, “Bang, bang, you’re dead. Why don’t you hold up a big sign saying, ‘I’m looking for Lacklan Walker’?”

  He turned to face me. His eyes were not friendly. “Not everybody is out to kill everybody, Mr. Walker.”

  “But it’s the ones who are that you need to worry about. Can we go somewhere less visible? Walk and talk, we’ll cross the bridge.” I started walking toward Bow Bridge and he followed. I said, “So what do you want to talk to me about?”

  “I want you to stop trying to contact Marni.”

  “That’s not going to happen.” I looked at him. “Why?”

  He thought for a moment before answering. “I know about Omega, Marni has told me all about them, and about your father. Frankly, I don’t think she is at risk from them. I think they are more interested in negotiating with her than harming her.”

  “And this conclusion is based on what?”

  He took a deep breath, as though he was sifting through his thoughts, deciding which ones he wanted to share with me. “I have been a consultant to many governments over the years, not least the U.S. and the U.K. A long time ago, I realized that presidents and prime ministers come and go, but they serve higher masters, and I have gained some idea of who some of those masters are.”

  “So?”

  “Like all conspirators, the men and women who run Omega fear public exposure. Conspi
racy prospers in the dark, Mr. Walker. That being the case, they try to keep their assassinations to a minimum, because every high profile murder risks investigation and exposure. Add to that the fact that we have her father’s research…”

  I stopped. “You have it?”

  He looked me over a couple of times, making no secret of the fact that he was suspicious. “That’s important to you?”

  “It’s important to everybody, Gibbons. Omega will do anything to get their hands on that research.”

  He shook his head and started walking again. “No, they will do anything to suppress, and preferably destroy, that research. They will do anything to stop it coming into the public domain. And as long as they believe that Marni’s death will provoke just that, they will take care not to harm her.”

  “That is a very dangerous game.”

  We had reached the bridge and he stopped to lean his elbows on the edge and look down at the water.

  “Well, that’s just it. I don’t think it is. What I think is dangerous is this warmongering, confrontational approach you have.” He frowned and shook his head, as though I had said something absurd and he was having trouble believing I’d said it. “You can never beat them, Walker. There is no way to beat them. All we can ever hope to do is influence them.”

  “How do you know?”

  “What?” He looked at me like I was insane.

  “How do you know that we can never beat them?”

  “They are far too powerful! They control governments. They have entire armies at their disposal…”

  “And yet they are scared stiff of Marni Gilbert, who murdered one of their senior members. And after all the damage I have caused them, here I am. You know why they are not coming after me?”

  He turned back to look at the lake. “I can hazard a shrewd guess.”

  “They hope that they can get to Marni through me. And they want Marni, as you pointed out, because they are scared of what she can do with her father’s research.”

  He didn’t say anything, but he nodded.

  I pressed the point. “That kind of fear does not come from being invincible. They can be beaten! You should not be afraid of them.”

  “I am not afraid. I am pragmatic. I am a realist.”

  “So was Neville Chamberlain.”

  His face constricted with irritation. “Don’t be absurd. There is no comparison!”

  “I disagree. These people are ruthless. They’re beyond ruthless. I know. My father was one of them. Did she tell you that they had my father kill hers?”

  “She told me, yes.”

  “Did she tell you why they chose him for the job?”

  He eyed me a moment and told me no with his face.

  I told him why. “They chose my father because Frank Gilbert, Marni’s father, was his best friend.”

  He turned away. “I find that hard to believe.”

  “That’s your choice. He told me the whole story when he asked me to find Marni after she disappeared. The price for refusing to kill him would have been the death of his own family, as well as Marni and her parents.” I paused a moment, then asked him, “Are you able, fully, to see what they did to him?”

  He frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “They offered him a choice, but it wasn’t really a choice, because only one of the two options was even conceivable. And the conceivable option meant the destruction of his own soul. It meant murdering his best friend, doing something so horrific that he would detest himself for the rest of his life.”

  I reached in my pocket and pulled out a pack of Camels. I lit up with my battered old brass Zippo and blew smoke across the morning air. Then I went on.

  “Having forced him to make that choice, to kill his best friend, they then rewarded him. They elevated him to a position of inconceivable wealth and power. Can you begin to imagine what that did to his mind? They showed him two things. One, that there was no depth they would not sink to to achieve their ends; and two, that they owned him completely.” I gave him a moment to assimilate the full horror of what I had told him. “You are like Chamberlain, Gibbons, wanting to negotiate peace in our time with people who have no conscience and no inhibitions. There is no limit to what they will do to another human being, or eight billion human beings, in order to consolidate their power. If you believe you can reach a compromise with these people, you are already dead.”

  His face flushed and he turned on me. “And your solution is to kill them all?”

  I held his eye for a slow count of three. “Yes.”

  He threw his hands in the air. “You see! This is why it’s impossible! Have you any…” He screwed up his face like he had brain constipation and put his fingertips to his forehead. “Have you any conception of the enormity of what you are suggesting? The logistics…!”

  “I don’t know, I spent ten years in the SAS, what do you think?”

  “This is the real world, Walker! This isn’t a bunch of overgrown schoolboys running around the desert shooting at each other! We are talking about people’s lives!”

  For a moment I considered picking him up and throwing him over the bridge into the lake. Instead, I snarled, “What the hell are you talking about?”

  He sighed, “I’m sorry, Walker, but you and your chums in Hereford live in your own rarified world where things are solved by shooting people. That might work in Afghanistan, but in London, New York, and Beijing, things are done differently. It is a very delicate balancing of power and you simply cannot go in just shooting people and blowing them up!”

  I sucked on my cigarette and inhaled deeply, then let out the smoke slow. “Gibbons, my father was a lawyer. He got his degree from Harvard. He was a very intelligent man, and if anybody understood power, he did. He used to say, ‘Murder is the most serious of all crimes, not because it is the most heinous offence against the person, but because the State reserves to itself the authority to inflict violence and take life. This is because the ability to inflict violence and take life is the root of all power.’”

  He closed his eyes and groaned loudly. “Heaven preserve us! A philosophizing thug!”

  I studied the burning tip of my cigarette for a moment. “OK, Gibbons, I’ve been patient, but I have had about enough of your arrogance and your insults. I’m not going to try to convince you that you’re wrong. You’re stupid and you can’t help it. I figure soon enough Omega will convince you of that. Now, I want to see Marni, and I am not going to take no for an answer.”

  He looked at me as though my poodle had just shat on his doorstep. “Fortunately it is not up to me. She does not want to see you, Walker. She asked me to come here and convince you to leave us alone.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “That’s your choice. But she believes, as I do, that you are a loose cannon. You are a danger to everybody. You are out of control. You have no discipline…”

  I shook my head. “Discipline is not about obeying orders, Gibbons, it’s about staying cool and taking the right steps to achieve your ends. Believe me, I have discipline. Now you are going to listen to me, and you are going to listen with care.”

  His eyes were resentful, but there was a hint of fear there, too. “Don’t try to bully me, Walker.”

  “Shut up and listen. You are right about one thing, I am dangerous, and I am all that stands between you and torture and death at the hands of Omega. The moment they realize that Marni won’t come to me, they will destroy you, or worse. Now tell me, is she going to present her father’s research at her talk?”

  He nodded. “Yes.”

  “Is it as explosive as Omega fear?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  I sighed and flicked my cigarette butt into the water. “As soon as she presents it, you’ll have played your hand and you will have no defense against them.”

  “No, then they will have to talk to us…!”

  “Don’t be stupid, Gibbons! Once she exposes their research they will have nothing to lose. They’ll kill you both a
nd create the biggest cover up since Kennedy. Think about it! If they did that to Marni’s father and mine, what the hell do you think they’ll do to you?”

  His skin had acquired the color and texture of porridge.

  “You have to convince Marni to talk to me, Gibbons.”

  I reached out and took hold of his tie. I pulled his face close to mine. His eyes were wide and I let him see death in mine. “She is committing suicide, Gibbons. She knows it, but she figures your life and hers are a fair price to pay for bringing down Omega. But her death will be in vain. She’ll hurt them, but she won’t destroy them. Talk to her. Make her talk to me.”

  I let him go when I saw in his eyes that I had got through to him. Then I watched him hurry away toward Bethesda and 5th Avenue. It was odd, I told myself, how a man could be brilliant and brave, like Gibbons, and at the same time be so stupid and cowardly.

  I smoked another cigarette, watching the dark water beneath me and wondering what to do next. I didn’t have much time. Omega knew that Marni and I were both in the same city. Despite my stunt the morning before, they would be watching me. They’d be watching us both like hawks. And it wouldn’t take long for them to realize that Marni didn’t want to see me. When that happened, when they realized that I was no use to them in getting to her, two got you twenty they would kill us both. They were rats, and Marni and Gibbons, in their emotional stupidity, had put them in a corner. A rat in a corner is not a good thing.

  I started walking back through the park, taking my time, and wondering if my time had come; if everything, my unhappy years in prep school; the fights, the girls, and the drinking in high school; the endless battles with my father; loving my cool, distant, unreachable mother at a distance; and then the ten years of relentless killing and surviving, living always with Death at my shoulder, if all of that now resolved itself into a single, breathless, shocking moment, when I too died.

  For a moment I wanted to take it all in, every car, every tree, every pretty girl, every bird, every birdsong, every note on the blue summer air. I wanted to take it in and hold it and live it for eternity.