disappeared, and the Company’s communications
routed through Key West could not be traced.
Belamy! The man whose face never appeared in
any publication film was destroyed instantly by
aides if he was even in the background of a
photograph. The most guarded operations of ficer in
England, with access to secrets culled over decades
and scores of devices created by the best minds of
M.I.6. And yet, was it possible? Derek Belamy, the
quiet good-humored chess player, the friend who
gave good whisky and a fine ear to an American
colleague who had progressively had serious doubts
about his calling in life. The betterfriend for having
the wisdom and the courage to warn his cotleague
that he was drinking too much, that perhaps he
should take a sabbatical, and if money was a
problem, surely some sort of quiet consultation
agreement could be worked out with his own
organization. Was it possible, this decent man this
friend ?
Stone reached the door in the hallway marked
simply by the number 14, OCCUPIED. He walked
inside the small room and went to the desk and the
telephone. He did not sit down; his anxiety would
not permit it. He picked up the phone and dialed
the White House switchboard as he took out the slip
of paper in his pocket with Converse’s number
somewhere in France. He gave it to the operator,
adding simply, “This
THE AQUITAINE PROGRESSION 673
should be scrambled. I’m talking from Strategy
Fourteen confirm by trace. ‘
“Trace confirmed, sir. Scrambler will be in
operation. Shall I call you back?”
“No, thanks, I’ll stay on the line.” Stone remained
standing as he heard the hollow echo of numbers
being punched and the faint hum of the scrambling
machine. And then he heard the sound of a door
opening. He turned.
‘ Put the phone down, Peter,” said Derek Belamy
quietly as he shut the door. “There’s no point to
this.”
“It is you, isn’t it?” Stone slowly, awkwardly
replaced the phone in its cradle.
“Yes, it is. And I want everything you want, my
old friend. Neither of us could deny ourselves the
parting shots, could we? I said I was visiting friends
in Scotland and you said you thought I was in
Ireland. We’ve learned over the years haven’t we?
The eyes don’t lie. Scotland calls to the Hebrides;
the glass fell over your eyes. And earlier, when that
face came on the screen, you looked across the Esle
a bit too obviously, I thmk.
“Dobbins. He worked for you.”
“You wrote frantically on your pad, yet you said
nothing.’
“I was waiting for you to say something.”
“Yes, of course, but I couldn’t, could 1?”
“Why, Derek? For Christ’s sake, why?”
“Because it’s right and you know it.”
“I don’t know it! You’re a sane, reasonable man.
They’re not!”
“They’ll be replaced, naturally. How often have
you and I used drones we couldn’t abide because
their contributions were necessary to the objectives”
“What objective? An international totalitarian
alliance? A military state without borders? All of us
robots marching to the drums of fanatics?”
“Oh, come off it, Peter. Spare us both the liberal
drivel. You left this business once, drinking yourself
into a stupor because of the waste, the futility, the
deceits we all practiced the people we killed to
maintain what we laughingly called the status quo.
What status quo, old man? To be continuously
harassed by our inferiors the world over? To be held
hostage by screaming mullahs and hysterical fools
who still live in the Dark Ages and would cut our
throats over the price of a barrel of oil? To be
manipulated at every turn by Soviet
674 ROBERT LUDLUM
deceptions? No, Peter, there really is a better way.
The means may be distasteful, but the end result is
not only desirable, it’s also honorable.”
‘Whose definition? George Marcus Delavane’s?
Erich Leifhelm’s? Chaim “.
They’ll be replaced!’.
They can’t be!” shouted Stone. Once it starts,
you can’t stop it. The image becomes the reality. It’s
expected, de manded! To deviate is to be accused, to
oppose is to be ostracized, penalized! It’s lockstep
and lockjaw, and you damn well know that!”
The telephone rang.
“Let it ring,” ordered the man from M.1.6.
“It doesn’t matter now. You were the
Englishman at Leifhelm’s house in Bonn. A brief
description of you would have confirmed it for me.”
‘That’s Converse?” The phone rang again.
“Would you like to talk to him? I understand
he’s quite a lawyer, although he broke a
fundamental rule he took himself on as a client.
He’s coming out, Derek, and he’s going after you,
all of you. We all are after all of you.”
“You won’t!” cried Belamy. ‘You can’t! As you
yourself put it, once it starts you can’t stop it!”
Without the slightest indication that he was
about to move, the Englishman suddenly lunged at
Stone, the three middle fingers of his right hand
rigid, zeroing in like steel projectiles on the CIA
man’s throat. Stone took the agonizing blow, gasping
for air as the room spiraled out of his vision, a
thousand dazzling spots of white light flashing in his
eyes. He could hear the door opening and closing as
the phone insistently rang again. But Peter could
not see it. the white lights had turned into darkness.
The ringing stopped as Stone wildly, blindly
careened around the room, trying to trace the bell
trying to find the phone. The minutes passed in
madness as he smashed into walls and fell over the
desk. Then the door crashed open and Colonel Alan
Metcalf rushed in.
“Stone! What ha opened ?” Racing to Peter, the
Air Force officer instantly recognised the effects of
the judo chop. He began massaging Stone’s throat,
pressing his knee into the CIA man’s stomach to
force up air. The switchboard reached us, saying
that room fourteen had placed a scrambler call but
didn’t pick up. Christ, who was it?”
Vague images came back to Stone, but still he could
not
THE AQUITAINE PROGRESSION 675
speak; he was capable only of gasping coughs. He
writhed under MetcalEs strong hands, pointing to a
note pad that had fallen from the desk. The colonel
understood; he reached for it and yanked out a
ball-point pen from his pocket. He rolled Stone over
and, placing the pen in his hand, guided the hand to
the pad.
Struggling for control, Peter wrote: BELMY.
STP. AQUTAIN.
“Oh, my God!” whispered Metcalf, reaching for
the phone and dialing zero. “Operator, this is an
emergency. Give me Security…. Security? Colonel
Alan Metcalf talking from Strategy Fourteen.
Emergency! There’s an Englishman named Belamy
who may still be on the premises trying to leave.
Stop him! Hold him! Consider him dangerous. And
get word to the infirmary. Send a doctor to Strategy
Fourteen. Quickly!”
The White House staff doctor removed the
oxygen mask from Stone’s face and placed it on the
desk next to the cylinder. He then gently moved
Peter’s head back in the chair, inserted a tongue
depressor and peered into the CIA man’s throat with
a pencil light.
“It was a nasty shot,” he said, “but you’ll feel
better in a couple of hours. I’ll give you some pills
for the pain.”
“What’s in them?” asked Stone hoarsely.
“A mild analgesic with some codeine.”
“No thanks, Doctor,” said Peter, looking over at
Metcalf. ’51 don’t think I like what I see on your
face.”
“I don’t either. Belamy got out. His pass was high
priority, and he told the East Gate he was needed
urgently at the British embassy.”
“Goddomn it!”
“Try not to strain your voice,” said the doctor.
‘~Yes, of course,” replied Stone. “Thank you
very much, and now if you’ll excuse us.” He got out
of the chair as the doctor picked up his medical bag
and headed for the door.
The telephone rang as the door closed. Metcalf
picked it up. “Yes? Yes it is; he’s right here.” The
colonel listened for several moments then turned to
Stone. “Breakthrough,” he said. “All those military
who were identified have two things in common.
Each is on a minimum thirty-day summer leave, and
every request was made five months ago, nearly to
the day.”
676 ROBERT LUDIUM
“Thus guaranteeing request-granted status
because they were first in line,” added the CIA man
with difficulty. “And the plans for the antinuclear
demonstrations were announced in Sweden six
months ago.”
“Clockwork,” said Metcalf. “To identify and
neutralize the others we’ll send out the word. Every
officer in half a dozen armies and navies who’s
currently returning from summer leave is to be
restricted to quarters. There’ll be errors but that’s
rough. We can send out the photographs and correct
them.”
“It’s time for Scharhorn.” Stone got out of the
chair, massaging his throat. “And I don’t mind
telling you it scares me to death. A wrong symbol
and we erase Aquitaine’s master list. Worse, a
wrong move and that whole complex is blown away.”