could barely be heard.
"I won't bore you with the circuitous routes that led me to you, other than to say it was kind of brilliant. The Sancho Panza to Moreau's Don Quixote, the adoring lackey who worshiped his master, who wormed his way into his master's trust and affection, helping him with his daily gchedule--every day and every evening.
No one but you could have known where I was at given times, where my brother was, where Karin and Moreau's poor sec re-THE ApoCALYPSE WATCH 687 tary were, and you rolled fifty-fifty with the dice. You killed Harry and Moreau's secretary, but you blew it with Karin and me."
"You're a dead man, Drew," said the director of the [email protected] almost pleasantly.
"You're in my territory and you're dead."
"I wouldn't jump to conclusions if I were you. Lieutenant Anthony-you know the lieutenant-is outside with your receptionist.
By now I'm sure he's used her telephone to reach Ambassador Courtland, who has requested an emergency conference with the President of France and his Cabinet. Sort of a power breakfast, I imagine you'd call it."
"On what basis?"
"Because after I saw [email protected], I didn't come out and tell Anthony not to. We agreed on eight minutes; it was a safe number.
You know, you really blew it when you sent those goons to the hotel, 4gum balls the marine unit called them. No one else in Paris knew where we were except you, and, by extension, Franqois."
"A marine unit .. . ?"
"I don't believe in a hero's death, Jacques. When you think about it, it's stupid if you don't have to go through with it."
44 You have only your word, and against mine it is notb-ing! The President himself appointed me!"
"You're a Sormenkind, you bastard."
"Outrageous! What evidence could you possibly have for such a preposterous lie?"
"It's circumstantial, granted, but put together with other things, it's pretty convincing. You see, when I began to zero in on you, I gave you the benefit of the doubt. Last night, in that military van from Beauvais, I got in touch with a whiz kid named Joel in our supercomputer complex and asked him to run an eye-dent on you.
Fifty-one years ago you were legally adopted by a childless couple, a Monsieur and Madame Bergeron in Lauterbourg, near the German border. You were a terrific student, scholarships yours for the asking, right through the University of Paris and its graduate school.
You could have gone into a dozen professions that would have made you a very rich man, but you didn't. You chose civil service, the intelligence branch. Not exactly a winner in the financial sweepstakes."
"It was my interest, my profound interest!"
"You bet it was. With time and the years you were in the right place at the rigbt time. You couldn't do anything about it because you'd left before we figured out the gliders, but how did you take it when Water Lightning fizzled? Ein Volk, ein Reich, ein pissant."
"You are insane! Everything you say is a lie!"
"No, it isn't. It was in your own words, your humble confessional in Beauvais. One way or another you knew YOU had to get out;
sooner or later the rope would be circling around your neck. You really didn't expect to be named director of the [email protected]; it was the only honest thing you said because you knew there were better men in other intelligence agencies. So you declared to all of us, "I am not a leader, I am a follower who obeys orders." .. . You were repeating, ad nauseam, the terrible words we've heard too often, the Nazi credo. That's what made me pull in our supercomputer expert, just on a chance."
"I repeat," said Jacques Bergeron icily, "I was a war orphan, my parents were French, killed in a bombing raid, and my academic records are there for all to see. You are nothing more than a paranoid American troublemaker, and I'll see you expelled from France."
"Can't happen, Jacques. You killed my brother, or, should I say, you had him killed. I won't let you go. I'm going to jam your severed head oh the highest pike of the Pont Neuf, just the way the fans of the guillotine liked it. For all your scholastic achievements, you overlooked something. Lauterbourg was never bombed, either by the Allies or the Germans. You were smuggled across the Rhine to start a new life-as a Sonnenkind."
Bergeron stood immobile, studying Latham, a thin, cold smile creasing his soft face.
"You're really quite talented, Drew," he said quietly.
"But, of course,