I think he was probably getting cold feet at the last minute.”
The front door was still half open and in the far distance McGarvey heard sirens, and perhaps the rhythmic thump of helicopter rotors.
“China,” McGarvey said.
“It’s too late to be stopped, you know,” Foster said. “Has been since before Mexico City.” He was dressed in a natty blue blazer, khaki slacks, and an open-neck white silk shirt. He’d been drinking, his square-jawed face flushed. “In any event, what’s about to happen has been inevitable, actually, for a number of years. When the Soviet Union disintegrated under the weight of historical pressure, China was next. Always had been next.”
“Why? To what point do you risk innocent people, perhaps millions, or tens of millions?”
“There are no innocents.”
McGarvey had to wonder about Foster and his type, because Osama bin Laden had told him the very same thing shortly before 9/11. What did they believe in? Certainly not religion, leastways not in bin Laden’s case. Was Foster’s god, money?
“You’ve come this far and you still don’t understand, do you?” Foster said. “I can see it written all over your face. You’re confused. You of all people . . . you’ve spent just about all of your adult life fighting for the same things I’m fighting for. And you’ve sacrificed more than any man should be able to bear. You’ve defied your superiors time and again because you knew you were right and they were wrong. You felt it in your gut because you have an extremely strong sense of fair play. You’ve even gone against the direct orders of the president. Why? Just answer that.”
The sirens were much closer now, and the helicopters—he could make out two of them—were coming in for a landing.
“If China actually attacks Taiwan this evening, what advantage will it bring you?”
“Not me, Mr. McGarvey. The United States.”
“China is no military threat to us.”
“No, but they are on the verge of buying us. Purchasing the resources of a nation teetering on bankruptcy. They’ve already started. And for pennies on the dollar, a fact that most Americans are not aware of. How many people in Iowa or New Mexico or New York, for that matter, can name China’s top ten cities and where they’re located? How many of our citizens are totally ignorant of China’s long, rich history? How many know the threat they pose to our oil supplies? Or to a host of other natural resources we cannot do without?”
“You don’t want to work it out in the marketplace,” McGarvey said. The helicopters were on the ground now, and he could hear people just outside. “You never did. Mexico City, Pyongyang, and now this incident with the B-525 unloading something in Taiwan for the benefit of Mainland China’s intelligence apparatus was meant to shove Beijing so hard it had no other choice but to react. Stupidly, blindly, but it had to do something.”
“And it’s working,” Foster said, triumph in his eyes.
“But we know about it.” he said.
“You’re the only man who could have stopped us, and now it’s too late for you. Far too late.”
McGarvey turned toward the front door as FBI agents in SWAT team dark camos, automatic weapons at the ready, poured inside.
Steve Ansel and Doug Mellinger, the two U.S. Marshals he’d taken down at Arlington after the explosion, came in, their pistols drawn. Mellinger was wearing a knee brace and he walked with a heavy limp. They both wore dark blue Windbreakers with U.S. Marshals Service in yellow on the back.
Mellinger came right up to McGarvey. “Innocent until proved guilty, that was your line after we picked you up at Andrews.”
McGarvey just looked him in the eye, but said nothing.
“Turns out we didn’t have to prove anything,” Mellinger said, nearly shaking with anger. “You did it for us.” He smashed the butt of his pistol into McGarvey’s jaw.
“Doug, for Christ’s sake,” Ansel said, and he grabbed Mellinger’s arm and pulled him away.
McGarvey had expected the blow, and he had rolled with it as best he could, but he saw stars in his eyes, and tasted blood in his mouth.
“No need for any of that,” Foster told them. “Who’s in charge here?”
“We are,” Ansel said. “Are you all right, sir?”
“A little shaken, but as you can see my bodyguard has been shot to death, along with Mr. Whittaker, and you’ll find another body outside somewhere, Calvin Boberg who was employed by Administrative Solutions to provide me with security.”
“The Bureau’s forensics people are en route, and we’re going to