There was a general murmur of agreement, although it was clear that, among some of the other council members and all of the generals, there was more than a little regret about not pursuing the idea.
La Porte's pale eyes flashed fire at the suggestion that he was too soon. "And I say we cannot not afford it! We must take our place militarily, economically, and politically. And now is the time. Soon you must vote. It's a grave responsibility, one that can make life better for everyone. I know when you face that moment of truth and must vote, you'll agree with me. You'll feel the destiny of Europa not as it has been for the past sixty years, but as it can be. Must be."
Ciccione looked around the room, meeting the others' gazes, until at last he shook his head. "I think I can speak for all of us when I say nothing can convince us yet, General. I regret it, but the hard truth is that the continent is simply not ready."
All eyes turned to General Bittrich, who was still studying La Porte. The German general said, "As for this recent attack on U.S. satellites that seems to concern the commissioners and our General La Porte so much, I think we'll find the Americans well prepared to resist and dispose of whoever is behind it."
As another murmur of agreement hummed through the room, General La Porte only smiled. He said mildly, "Perhaps, General Bittrich. Perhaps."
At that instant, the Prussian's gray eyes hardened into points of steel. As the others filed from the room into the sumptuous dining hall adjacent, Bittrich did not move.
Alone with La Porte, he stood and walked toward the Frenchman. "A tragic event, the death of General Moore."
La Porte nodded solemnly. His unblinking eyes studied the German. "I feel most guilty. Such a waste to lose him. If he hadn't come to our meeting on the De Gaulle ?" He gave a Gallic shrug of fate.
"Ah, so. Ja. But what was it Moore said before we disbanded? Now I recall. He wondered whether you knew something we did not."
"I believe he expressed a passing thought of that nature. He was, as I told him then, quite wrong." La Porte smiled.
"Of course." Bittrich smiled, too, and murmured as he walked away toward the dining hall with its table groaning with Flemish gourmet dishes, "Perhaps."
The Chartreuse Region of France
The chalet was modern, with a sharply pitched roof and a half-timbered exterior that blended into the majestic scenery beneath the snow-capped Alps. Nestled against sweet-smelling pines, the chalet was perched on a steep slope at the edge of broad fields and meadows in sight of La Grande Chartreuse, a famous Carthusian monastery. From one side of the house, the view was panoramic across the open area that dropped south, still spotted with winter snow and the fresh footprints of deer. The first blades of pale spring grasses were just beginning to show. To the north, thick pine forest rose up the mountainside, embracing the chalet.
All of this was important to Theacute;regrave;se Chambord, who was locked in a room on the second floor. She gazed up at the only windows, which were placed high, as she pushed an old-fashioned frame bed beneath. Miserable and outraged, she dragged an empty bureau to the bed and wrestled it up onto it. She stepped back, put her hands on her hips, and shook her head, disgusted. Even with the bureau on top of the bed, the windows were still too far above to reach. She was carrying a thronelike chair toward the bed when she heard the door unlock.
Her father entered with a tray of food and stared dumbfounded as she stood up on the bed, preparing to hoist the chair atop the bureau. He set the tray on a side table and closed the door before she could climb down.
He shook his head. "That will do you no good, Theacute;regrave;se. This house is on the edge of the mountainside, and your room overlooks a steep slope. Even should you manage to get through those windows, the drop is more than three stories. It alone could kill you. In any case, the windows are locked."
Theacute;regrave;se glared down at him. "Smart of you. But I'll get away yet, and then I'll go to the police."
Chambord's lined face was sad. "I'd hoped you'd understand. That you'd trust me and join us in this crusade, child. I had expected to have time to explain all