Sea of Fire

Chapter Sixty-five

Herbert was stewing.

The intelligence chief did not think that Warrant Officer Jelbart was wrong about backing off Kannaday. He just did not think that Jelbart was right.

Captain Kannaday was hurt. Herbert had no doubt that the man was exhausted. But he did not believe the man was asleep. Kannaday's nap was the Australian equivalent of cover-your-ass. Whatever had happened on the yacht was illegal. Kannaday had said as much. He was not going to say anything else without a barrister or solicitor or whatever they called criminal attorneys Down Under.

It had also been imprudent of Jelbart to mention the pirate. That information had not been made public. If Kannaday were asleep, it would not matter. If he were awake, he might be less inclined to talk. The captain might say things that contradicted what officials already knew from the pirate. That would not be good for Kannaday.

Herbert's E-mail alert beeped. "Christ," he said.

"What's wrong?" Jelbart asked.

Herbert turned and snapped the cell phone from the armrest of the wheelchair.

"Paul, are you still there?"

"I am," Hood said.

"Sorry, boss," Herbert told him. "I forgot you were hanging on. What have you got?"

"A file on Peter Kannaday," Hood said. "I thought you might like to have a look at it."

"Absolutely," Herbert said. The laptop monitor was anchored in the left armrest of the wheelchair. Herbert craned around and swung the screen toward him. He punched the On button. It activated with a hiss. He opened and downloaded Hood's E-mail.

"Do you think the captain is really asleep?" Hood asked.

"Yeah," Herbert said. "And I'm going to be the next president of the United States."

"Do you believe anything he said?" Hood asked.

"I don't know," Herbert admitted. He was watching the monitor as the file downloaded. "I don't have enough information."

"And there's nothing you or Officer Loh can do to get that information," Hood said.

"Well, there is—" Herbert said.

"Lawfully, I mean," Hood interrupted. "Peter Kannaday is an Australian captain working in international waters. He was rescued by an Australian helicopter. They're going to have the first swing at him."

"Paul, we've got to fight that," Herbert said. "Maybe Lowell can pull some legal precedent out of his brain pan." The intelligence chief looked out the window as the computer continued opening the file. It was dark out there. But not as dark as Herbert felt inside.

"Come on, Bob. You know better."

"Unfortunately, I do," Herbert replied.

"Even if Lowell got us in to talk to Kannaday, he's not going to let an interview turn rough," Hood said.

"He'd rather see some psycho warlord get heavy artillery?"

"The Australians won't let that happen," Hood replied. "Give them some credit."

"In a perfect world, I would," Herbert said. "But if the authorities find out our other friend may be involved, I'll tell you exactly what they'll do. They'll circle the wagons around the big man. They have to. It would bring down his empire, do damage to the national economy. They'll scapegoat some secondary guy to keep their national treasure from being sullied. If that happens, we'll never get all the names we're after. And we'll never know if we've cut this caravan off completely."

Herbert did not want to mention Darling's name in case Kannaday was awake. If the man were going to talk, Herbert wanted him to mention Darling without being prompted. A lie or cover-up could usually be identified quickly. A half-truth was much more troublesome.

"I don't agree that they'll protect Darling," Hood said. "Something this big would leak eventually. They will have to cut a deal."

"I don't like the smell of that," Herbert said.

"It's done in business all the time," Hood said. "The alternative is closing your eyes or bringing down the whole system to get one man. In exchange for cooperation, regulators or investigators give executives a degree of immunity and time to turn the companies over to associates."

"Jesus, Paul," Herbert complained. "We're not talking about insider trading here."

"I recognize that—"

"I don't want to see this guy have his passport revoked and agree to the equivalent of house arrest," Herbert said. "That isn't right."

"I agree. And I don't want you to forget that this isn't about retribution," Hood said. "That's why a Richard Nixon resigns and gets a pardon, or a Kurt Waldheim has his visa shredded and any war crimes he may have been involved in are locked in a filing cabinet. It's about fixing a problem with a minimum of embarrassment, if possible."

"That's the solution of a bureaucrat," Herbert said. "I want this guy's tanned hide."

"That is the self-righteous indignation of the Lone Ranger," Hood replied. "Bob, if Darling is guilty, I'd love to see him get life in prison. But that probably won't happen. Right or wrong, you can't just remove a foundation of international industry like that. Maybe over time, but not immediately."

"Over time people will forget," Herbert said. "They'll forgive."

"That's possible," Hood agreed.

"It's inevitable," Herbert said.

"Not if he was trying to kill people," Hood said. "Al Capone was a folk hero until he ordered the Saint Valentine's Day Massacre. People will cheer someone who beats the establishment. They won't tolerate mass murder."

The computer beeped, signaling that the file had been downloaded. Herbert terminated the link and opened the file. He was angry. He was not angry at Hood. He was angry because Hood was right. Jervis Darling would probably survive a worst-case scenario.

"Bob?" Hood said.

"Yeah."

"You're unusually quiet."

"Sorry," Herbert replied. "I was thinking about what you said."

"And?"

"Like Mr. Jelbart, you've got a point. I just don't happen to like it," Herbert told him. "Is that what we do for a living? Risk our lives so we can settle for a compromise?"

"It seems that way," Hood said.

"It doesn't seem right."

"I agree," Hood said, "but that's the ante when your opponents are ready to risk their lives. Besides, in our business a trade-off that prevents a war is still better than a loss."

"I don't know," Herbert said. "I never respected football teams that went for a field goal and a tie. That's not what champions do."

Hood chuckled.

"What's so funny?" Herbert asked.

"Your choice of words," Hood said. "When I was mayor, there was a small bronze plaque in city hall. It was a quote from Daniel Webster that read, 'This is a hall for mutual consultation and discussion, not an arena for the exhibition of champions.' I believe that."

"You would, Paul. You have the patience for talk," Herbert said. His tone was not disparaging. He admired Hood's diplomacy.

"Talk works," Hood said. "If you're doing that, you probably aren't killing each other."

"I can do both."

"Only if you're screaming, not talking," Hood said.

Hood was right about that point. The problem was, Herbert had always liked his way of doing things. It worked. Hood made it sound bad.

"Anyway, it isn't patience," Hood went on. "Talk is my weapon of choice. It worked well with voters and with my kids. Now it's a part of me. I couldn't change if I wanted to." He added pointedly, "None of us can."

Finally, there was something Herbert could agree with.

Hood said that he would call Lowell Coffey and bring him up to speed. Herbert thanked him and hung up the phone. He sat back and thought about what Hood said.

None of them could change.

Hood was right about that. But with that comment came Paul Hood's tacit acknowledgment that he accepted Bob Herbert as is. That gave Herbert a little wiggle room. He had not been told, expressly, to stay out of the investigation and interrogation.

What it did not give Herbert, immediately, was a place to put his fist. He was furious with Jervis Darling, with the polite but recalcitrant Peter Kannaday, and with the coddling mentality in general. Herbert understood talk. But to be honest, he still preferred war. It took less time and it resolved disputes a lot quicker. Nor were the casualties any heavier, really. Just quicker. The combatants lost to bullets what they would have lost to endless raids and corrosive debate.

Herbert noticed Loh staring at him.

"What are you thinking?" he asked her.

"I agree with you," she said.

"About?"

"A stalemate," she said.

Herbert smiled. "I didn't think you would care for that."

"Not at all. I would rather fight and lose than feel as though I did not give something my fullest effort," she replied.

Herbert smiled at her. That iced it. FNO Monica Loh had to become the next Mrs. Herbert. He was betting she had less patience for bullshit and insincerity than he did.

Almost absently, Herbert reached behind him and opened the computer file Paul Hood had sent. The intelligence chief angled the monitor toward him. He considered dreamily how he and Monica would be banned from every party and fund-raiser in Washington, D.C.

The file opened. Herbert glanced at it. His eyes shrank and his mouth widened. He stared at the screen more closely.

And he knew at once what to do with his rage.