Anaheim Run

Chapter Thirteen

“I’d like you to meet my assistants,” President Toland said.

The summit delegates were gathered in the hotel lobby for a period of socializing while the leaders enjoyed a much-deserved break. Members of the kitchen staff were circulating around the room, offering snacks and drinks to everyone. Free State soldiers ringed the lobby, each one armed with an M-16. In the southeast corner Blade and Plato had been discussing Hickok’s prolonged absence when they were approached by the president of the Civilized Zone and two others.

President Toland was wearing a brown suit tailored in the prewar fashion. He gestured at a woman to his left. “Plato, may I introduce Melissa Parmalee. Her official title is Administrative Assistant to the President. She handles the thousand and one petty details I can’t afford to waste my time with, like scheduling my itinerary on trips and arranging my accommodations.”

Blade studied the woman. Parmalee was about five feet eight, her figure slim and shapely. Her attire consisted of a smart red dress and jacket. The dress reached to her knees and her ample cleavage was discreetly covered by her jacket. He received the impression she was a very dedicated, very businesslike woman who relied more on her brains than her physical charms. Her hair was a sandy blonde, her eyes brown.

Parmalee offered her right hand to Plato. “I’m pleased to meet you. I’ve heard many flattering things about you from President Toland.”

“The pleasure is mutual,” Plato assured her, shaking.

Parmalee faced Blade. “Is this who I think it is?”

President Toland laughed. “This is Blade, the head Warrior. I’m sure you’ve heard of his exploits.”

Parmalee nodded, seemingly impressed. “That I have. The man who can change the course of rivers with his bare hands,” she said grinning.

Blade shook her hand, chuckling. “I gave up changing the course of rivers,” he quipped. “It was dirty work. I kept getting my clothes all muddy.”

President Toland indicated a man standing to his right. “And this is Frank Ebert, my Federation Liaison. He’s responsible for insuring all Federation business is treated expeditiously. He was instrumental in finalizing the details for this summit.”

Ebert was a short man, about five feet in height, and his features were on the pudgy side. His hair was brown, as were his eyes, and he was wearing a green suit. “I’m happy to meet you both at last,” he commented in a low voice. He shook hands with Plato, then Blade.

“Is Hickok still missing?” President Toland asked.

Blade frowned. “Yes. Boone went after him, but neither of them has returned yet.”

President Toland gazed about the lobby until his blue eyes alighted on General Gallagher, who was engaged in conversation with Governor Melnick. “I understand you’ve assumed command of the security detail for the summit,” he remarked. “I overheard General Gallagher complaining to the governor.”

Blade shrugged. “Couldn’t be helped. I hope I didn’t cause any problems for you.”

Toland smiled. “Not at all. In fact, I was glad to hear it. I only pray there are no more attempts on our lives.” He paused, chewing on his lower lip. “Speaking of security, I’d like to go over the setup for the banquet tomorrow night.”

“Fine with me,” Blade said.

“Will you excuse us for a moment?” President Toland said to the others.

Then he led Blade off by the arm.

“You don’t need to worry about the banquet,” Blade stated. “I’ve issued M-16’s to all of the delegates and we will personally guard the entrances to the banquet room.”

“I’m not worried about the banquet,” Toland revealed. “I drew you aside to discuss something else.”

“What?” Blade asked.

President Toland stopped and checked to make sure no one was in their immediate vicinity. “I want to discuss the spy.”

Blade’s mind flashed back to the Russian officer captured near the Home. The officer had revealed there was a Communist spy in President Toland’s administration.

“Before I go any further, I want to ask you a question,” Toland said.

“Who do you think is responsible for the assassination attempts on the summit leaders?”

“I don’t know,” Blade responded. “The Freedom Federation has made several enemies over the past five years. There are the Androxians in Houston, the androids who want to rule the world. And the Technics in Chicago want to see us destroyed. Not to mention the Soviets. Any one of them could be behind the effort to disrupt the summit. Or it could be a new enemy.”

“Don’t you have any idea which one it may be?” President Toland inquired, his blue eyes conveying his concern.

“If I had to make a guess, I’d say the Russians,” Blade speculated. “But any one of them could have hired the Gild.”

“Yes, General Gallagher told me all about your interrogation of the one called Emery,” Toland said.

Blade thoughtfully stroked his chin. “Hmmm.”

“What is it?” President Toland queried.

“I just thought of something.”

“What?”

“Emery told me the Gild is based in Paris, France,” Blade mentioned.

“So?”

“So whoever hired the Gild must have the means of traveling from the continental U.S. to Europe,” Blade deduced. “And we know the Soviets lack the capability. The Russians possess a lot of functional helicopters, but no jets, so far as we know. And the Technics don’t have an Air Force or any craft able to make a transatlantic voyage. But the Androxians do. So I could be wrong. The Androxians might have hired the Gild.”

“Unless, of course,” President Toland observed, “the Gild has a North American office or headquarters or some means of being contacted here.”

“That’s another possibility,” Blade admitted.

“Which brings us to the spy,” Toland stated. “I must make a confession.” His mouth curled downward. “I expected the summit to become the target of some form of attack.”

“You did? Why didn’t you inform us?” Blade demanded.

“Put yourself in my shoes,” President Toland said defensively. “The more people I told about the summit, specifically about the summit’s location, the greater the likelihood of the information falling into hostile hands. By the same token, the more people I told about expecting an attack increased the probability of our unknown enemies refraining from mounting an attempt if they knew we were anticipating one. Do you follow me so far?”

“I think so,” Blade responded.

“My strategy was simple,” Toland explained. “I knew the spy would consider the summit information crucial. I believed the spy would pass on the location of the summit to the Russians. And I knew full well the Russians wouldn’t hit the summit if they knew we were prepared for them.”

“I’m beginning to see what you’re driving at,” Blade commented.

“So while I told no one about expecting an attack,” Toland elaborated, “I did confide in a few close advisors about the summit’s location. That way, if an attack was made, I’d know one of the people I confided in must be responsible for relaying the information to the Russians, must be the spy.”

“Pretty clever,” Blade admitted. “But what if whoever is behind the assassination attempts received the news through another source?”

“That’s possible, I suppose,” Toland conceded.

“How many on your staff knew the exact location of the summit site?”

Blade asked.

“The two envoys I initially sent to California were aware of the selected site,” Toland detailed. “But both of them are completely reliable. I’ve known them since we were children in Wyoming.”

“Who else?” Blade probed.

“General Reese, whom you know,” Toland said.

“And I can’t see Reese being the spy,” Blade declared.

“Me neither,” President Toland agreed. “Which leaves just two other people I told.”

“Which ones?” Blade inquired.

President Toland turned and nodded toward Plato, Parmalee, and Ebert. “Guess.”

“Parmalee and Ebert?”

“Exactly,” Toland confirmed. He looked at Blade. “One of them is the Russian spy. I’m certain of it.”

“And you want me to find out which one,” Blade deduced.

“Can you?” President Toland asked.

“I’ll give it my best shot,” Blade promised. “But the job won’t be easy.

I’m going to have to be rough with them. I can’t use kid gloves. And if they’re innocent, they might resent the treatment and blame you.”

President Toland stared at the floor. “It can’t be helped. We know there’s a spy in our midst and we must discover the agent’s identity before irreparable harm is done to the Freedom Federation.”

“Since I have your permission, I can get started right away,” Blade said.

“Is there anything I can do?” Toland queried.

“Yes,” Blade stated. “In about fifteen minutes send one of them up to Room 212, the room I interrogated Emery in.”

“Which one do you want first?” Toland questioned.

Blade scrutinized the two bureaucrats. “Send up Ebert first.”

“He’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” President Toland assured the Warrior.

Blade glanced at the Civilized Zone’s leader. “I hope you’re right. If you’re not, there are two people who might wind up hating you.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” Toland responded. “But preserving the Federation must take precedence.”

“If it’s any consolation,” Blade offered, “I agree with your decision.”

President Toland stared at his two advisers, then at Blade. “It’s not.”

“You know the old saying,” Blade remarked.

“Which one?” Toland wanted to know.

“It’s lonely at the top.”