The Alexandria Link

EIGHTY-SIX

VIENNA

THORVALDSEN WAS BACK IN THE LIBRARY WITH GARY-BUT this time Hermann and the vice president knew he was there. They were alone with the door closed, the security men just outside.

“They were here last night,” the vice president said, clearly agitated. “Had to be there somewhere.” He motioned to the upper shelves. “Damn place is like a concert hall. He called the attorney general and told him everything.”

“Is that a problem?” Hermann asked.

“Thank God, no. Brent will be my vice president once all this happens. He’s been handling things in Washington while I’m gone. So at least it’s controlled on that end.”

“This one,” Hermann said, pointing at Thorvaldsen, “took my daughter yesterday. He did that before he heard anything last night.”

The vice president grew even more agitated. “Which begs a whole host of questions. Alfred, I didn’t question what you were doing here. You wanted the Alexandria Link, and you got it. I was the one who managed that. I don’t know what you did with that information and I don’t want to know, but it’s obviously become a problem.”

Hermann was rubbing the side of his head. “Henrik, you will pay dearly for striking me. No man has ever done that.”

Thorvaldsen was not impressed. “Maybe it was about time.”

“And you, young man.”

A knot clenched in Thorvaldsen’s throat. He hadn’t planned to place Gary in jeopardy.

“Alfred,” the vice president said, “everything is in motion. You’re going to have to handle this situation.”

Sweat beaded on Thorvaldsen’s brow as he realized what those words meant.

“These two will never breathe a word of what they know.”

“You’d kill the boy?” Thorvaldsen asked.

“You’d kill my daughter? So what? Yes, I’d kill the boy.” Hermann’s nostrils flared and his eyes bristled with the rage that clearly coursed through him.

“Not accustomed to this, are you, Alfred?”

“Taunting me will accomplish nothing.”

But it would buy Thorvaldsen time, and that was about the only play he knew. He turned to the vice president. “Brent Green was a good man. What happened to him?”

“I’m not his priest, so I don’t know. I assume he saw the benefits of taking my job. America needs strong leadership, people in power who aren’t afraid to use it. Brent’s that way. I’m that way.”

“What about men of character?”

“That’s a relative term. I prefer to see it as the United States partnering with the worldwide business community to accomplish goals of a mutually beneficial nature.”

“You’re a murderer,” Gary said.

A soft knock came from the door and Hermann stepped across to answer. One of the vice president’s security men whispered to Hermann. A puzzled look came to the Austrian’s face, then he nodded and the security man left.

“The president is on the telephone,” Hermann said.

Surprise flooded the vice president’s face. “What the hell?”

“He tracked you here from the Secret Service. Your detail reported that you were in here with me and two others, one a boy. The president wants to talk to us all.”

Thorvaldsen realized they’d have no choice. The president clearly knew a lot.

“He also wanted to know if I had a speakerphone,” Hermann said as he walked to his desk and punched two buttons.

“Good day, Mr. President,” Hermann said.

“I don’t think you and I have ever met. Danny Daniels calling from Washington.”

“No, sir. We haven’t. It’s a pleasure.”

“Is my vice president there?”

“I’m here, Mr. President.”

“And Thorvaldsen, you there? With the Malone boy?”

“He’s here with me,” Thorvaldsen said.

“First, I have some tragic news. I’m still reeling from it. Brent Green is dead.”

Thorvaldsen caught the instant of shock on the vice president’s face. Even Hermann flinched.

“Suicide,” Daniels said. “Shot himself in the head. I was just told a few minutes ago. Awful. We’re working up a press release now before the story explodes.”

“How did this happen?” the vice president asked.

“I don’t know, but it did and he’s gone. Also, Larry Daley is dead. Car bomb. We have no idea about the culprits there.”

More dismay invaded the vice president’s expression and his shoulders seemed to sag an inch.

“Here’s the situation,” Daniels said. “Under the circumstances, I’m not going to be able to travel to Afghanistan next week. America needs me here and I need my vice president to take my place.”

The vice president stayed silent.

“Anybody there?” Daniels said in a loud voice.

“Yes, sir,” the vice president said. “I’m here.”

“Great. Get your tail back here today and be ready to go next week. Of course, if you don’t want to make that trip to see the troops, you can tender your resignation. Your choice. But I actually prefer you make the trip.”

“What are you saying?”

“This isn’t a secure line, so I doubt you want me to say what I really think. Let me say it with a story. One my daddy used to tell. There was a bird flying south for the winter, but he got caught in an ice storm and fell to the ground. He froze, but a cow came along and crapped on him. The warm poop unthawed him and he liked it so much he started to sing. A cat came along to see what the commotion was about, asked if he could help, saw it was a meal, and ate the bird. Here are the morals of the story. Everybody who shits on you ain’t your enemy. Everybody who comes along to help ain’t your friend. And if you’re warm and happy, even in a pile of shit, keep your mouth shut. That make my point?”

“Perfectly, sir,” the vice president said. “How do you suggest I explain my resignation?”

“Tough to use the always popular Spend more time with my family. No one in our position quits for that reason. Let’s see, the last VP to resign was facing indictment. Can’t use that one. Of course, you can’t tell the truth, that you got caught committing high treason. How about, The president and I seem no longer capable of working together? Being the consummate politician that you are, I’m sure you will choose your words real careful because if I hear one thing I don’t like, then I’m going to tell the truth. Talk issues, debate our differences, tell people I’m an asshole. All fine. But nothing I don’t want to hear.”

Thorvaldsen watched the vice president. The man seemed to want to protest but wisely realized the effort would do no good.

“Mr. President,” Thorvaldsen said. “Stephanie and Cassiopeia okay?”

“They’re fine, Henrik. Can I call you that?”

“Nothing else.”

“They were instrumental in working things through on this end.”

“What about my mom and dad?” Gary blurted out.

“That must be Cotton’s boy. Nice to meet you, Gary. Your mom and dad are fine. I talked with your dad just a few minutes ago. Which brings me to you, Herr Hermann.”

Thorvaldsen caught the disdain in the president’s voice.

“Your man Sabre found the Library of Alexandria. Actually, Cotton did that for him, but he did try to steal it away. Sabre’s dead. So you lose. We have the library and, I assure you, not a soul will ever know where it is. As for you, Herr Hermann, Henrik and the boy better have no problems leaving your château, and I don’t want to hear another word out of you or I’ll let the Israelis and the Saudis know who orchestrated all this. Your problems then will be beyond comprehension. There will be no place good for you to hide.”

The vice president slumped into one of the chairs.

“One more thing, Hermann. Not a word to bin Laden and his people. We want to meet them next week while they wait for my plane. If they’re not there with missiles ready, I’m sending my commandos to take you out.”

Hermann said nothing.

“I’ll take your silence to mean you understand. You see, that’s the great thing about being the leader of the free world. I have a lot of people willing to do what I want. People with a wide variety of talents. You got money. I got power.”

Thorvaldsen had never met the American president, but he already liked him.

“Gary,” the president said. “Your dad will be back in Copenhagen in a couple of days. And Henrik, thanks for all you did.”

“I’m not sure I really helped.”

“We won, didn’t we? And that’s what counts in this game.”

The line clicked off.

Hermann stood silent.

Thorvaldsen pointed to the atlas. “Those letters are useless, Alfred. You can’t prove anything.”

“Get out.”

“Gladly.”

Daniels was right.

Game over.