Robert Ludlum – Matlock Paper

Williams meant then? About coming with you.”

“Come with me.”

Dunois led Matlock out of the small, windowless room and down the corridor

to a staircase. There were a few students milling about but only a few. The

rest of Luniumba Hall was asleep. They proceeded down two flights to a door

Matlock remembered as leading to the cellars, to the old, high-ceilinged

chapter room in which hed witnessed the frightening performance of the

African tribal rite. They descended the stairs

358 Robert Ludlum

and, as Matlock suspected, went to the rear of the cellars, to the thick oak

door of the chapter room. Dunois had not spoken a word since he’d bade

Matlock follow him.

Inside the chapter room were eight blacks, each well over six feet tall.

They were dressed alike: dark, tight-fitting khakis with open shirts and

black, soft leather ankle boots with thick rubber soles. Several were

sitting, playing cards; others were reading, some talking quietly among

themselves. Matlock noticed that a few had their shirt sleeves rolled up.

The arms displayed were tautly muscular, veins close to the skin. They all

nodded informally to Dunois and his guest. Two or three smiled

intelligently at Matlock, as if to put him at ease. Dunois spoke softly.

“The palace guard.”

“My Godl”

“The elite corps. Each man is trained over a period of three years. There

is not a weapon he cannot fire or fix, a vehicle he cannot repair … or a

philosophy he cannot debate. Each is familiar with the most bruW forms of

combat, traditional as well as guerril-Ia. Each is committed until death.”

The terror brigade, is that it? les not new, you know.”

“Not with that description, no, it wouldn’t be. Don!t forget, I grew up

with such dogs at my heels. Duvaliefs Ton Ton Macoute were a pack of

hyenas; I witnessed their work. These men are no such animale

I wasn~t thinking of Duvalier.”

‘On the other hand, I acknowledge the debt to Papa Doc. The Ton Ton’s

concept was exciting to me. Only I realized it had to be restructured. Such

units are springing up all over the country.”

They sprung up once before:’ Matlock said. “They

TEE WAnOM PAPER 359

were called ‘elite’ then, too. They were also called ‘Units’-SS units.”

Dunois looked at Matlock and Matlock saw the hurt in his eyes. ‘To reach

for such parallels is pain. fuL Nor is it justified. We do what we have to

do. What is right for us to do.”

“Ein Volk Ein Reich, Ein Fuehrer,” said Matlock softly.

34

Everything happened so fast. Two of Dunois’s elite guard were assigned to

him, the rest left for the rendezvous with Nimrod, to prepare themselves to

meet another elite guard-the selected few of Nimrod’s private army who

undoubtedly would accompany him. Matlock was ushered across the campus by

the two huge blacks after the word came back from scouts that the path was

clear. He was taken to a telephone booth in the basement of a freshman

dormitory, where he made his first call.

He found that his fear, his profound fear, aided the impression Dunois

wanted to convey. It wasn’t difficult for him to pour out his panicked

emotions, pleading for sanctuary, for, in truth, he felt panicked. As he

spoke hysterically into the phone, he wasn’t sure which was the reality and

which the fantasy. He wanted to be free. He wanted Pat to live and be free

with him. If Nimrod could bring it all about why not deal with Nimrod in

good faith?

It was a nightmare for him. He was afraid for a moment that he might yell

out the truth and throw himself on the mercy of Nimrod.

The sight of Dunois’s own Ton Ton Macoute kept bringing him back to his

failing senses, and be ended the first telephone call without breaking. The

Carlyle

TnE mATLocK PAPEFt 361

police “superintendent” would forward the information, receive an answer,

and await Matlock’s next call.

The blacks received word from their scouts that the second public telephone

wasn’t clear. It was on a street comer, and a patrol car had been spotted

in the area, Dunois knew that even public phones could be traced, although

it took longer, and so he had alternate sites for each of the calls, the

last one to be made on the highway. Matlock was rushed to the first

alternate telephone booth. It was on the back steps of the Student Union.

The second call went more easily, although whether that was an advantage

was not clear. Matlock was emphatic in his reference to the mythical

statement that was to be mailed at ten in the morning. His strength had its

effect, and he was grateful for it. The “superintendent” was frightened

now, and he didn’t bother to conceal it. Was Nimrod’s private army be-

ginning to have its doubts? The troops were, perhaps, picturing their own

stomachs blown out by the enemy’s shells. Therefore, the generals had to be

more alert, more aware of the danger.

He was raced to a waiting automobile. It was an old Buick, tarnished,

dented, inconspicuous. The exterior, however, belied the inside. The

interior was as precisely tooled as a tank. Under the dashboard was a

powerful radio; the windows were at least a half-inch thick, paned, Matlock

realized, with bulletproof glass. Clipped to the sides were high-powered,

short-barreled rifles, and dotted about the body were rubber-flapped holes

into which these barrels were to be inserted. The sound of the engine

impressed Matlock instantly. It was as powerful a motor as h6d ever heard.

They followed an automobile in front of them at

362 Robert Ludlum

moderate speed; Matlock realized that another car had taken up the rear

position. Dunois had meant it when he said they were to cover themselves on

all Ranks. Dunois was, indeed, a professional.

And it disturbed James Matlock when he thought about the profession.

It was black. It was also Ein Volk, Ein Reich, Ein Fuehrer.

As was Nimrod and all he stood for.

The words came back to him.

0… rm getting out of this goddamn country, mister. . . ‘

Had it come to that?

And: “. . . You think ies all so digerent? … les mini-Americal … les

company policy, mant”

The land was sick. Where was the cure?

“Here we are. Phase three.” The black revolutionary in command tapped him

lightly on the arm, smiling reassuringly as he did so. Matlock got out of

the car. They were on the highway south of Carlyle. The car in front had

pulled up perhaps a hundred yards ahead of them and parked off the road,

its lights extinguished. The automobile behind had done the same.

In front of him stood two aluminum-framed telephone booths, placed on a

concrete platform. The second black walked to the right booth, pushed the

door open-which turned on the dull overhead fight-and quickly slid back the

pane of glass under the light, exposing the bulb. This he rapidly unscrewed

so that the booth returned to darkness. It struck Matlock-impressed him,

really-that the Negro giant had eliminated the light this way. It would

have been easier, quicker, simply to have smashed the glass.

The objective of the third and final call, as Dunois

Tm mATLocK PAPim 363

had instructed, was to reject Nirwod’s meeting place. Reject it in a manner

that left Ninuod no altemative but to accept Matlocles panicked substitute:

the Cheshire Cat

The voice over the telephone from the Carlyle pohoe was wary, precise.

“Our mutual friend understands your concerns, Matlock. He’d feel the same

way you do. He’ll meet you with the girl at the south entrance of the

athletic field, to the left of the rear bleachers. It’s a small stadiun-4

not far from the gym and the dormitories. Night watchmen are on; no harm

could come to

YOU. . . .”

“All right. All right, that’s O.K.” Matlock did his best to sound quietly

frantic, laying the groundwork for his ultimate refusal. “Tbere are people

around; if any of you tried anything, I could scream my head off. And I

wilU’

“Of course. But you won’t have to. Nobody wants anyone hurt. Its a simple

transaction; that’s what our friend told me to tell you. He admires you. .

. . .

“How can I be sure he’ll bring Pat? I have to be surel”

‘The transaction, Matlock.” The voice was oily, there was a hint of

despemtion. Dunois’s “cobra” was unpredictable. “rhats what it’s all about

Our friend wants what you found, remember?”

“I remember. . . .” Matlocles mind raced. He realized he had to maintain

his hysteria, his unpredictability. But he had to switch the location.

Change it without being suspect. If Nimrod became suspicious, Dunois had

sentenced Pat to death. “And you tell our Mend to remember that there’s a

statement in an envelope addressed to men in Washingtonl”

“He knows that, for Christ’s sake, I mean … he’s

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