The Aquitaine Progression by Robert Ludlum Page A

Worse, we force them to watch inept civilians strip the gears of reason and, through oblique vocabularies, plant the explosives that will blow those barricades apart again. Then when they’re down once more, we summon our commanders.”
    “Jesus, whose side are you on?”
    Beale closed his eyes tightly, reminding Joel of the way he used to shut his own when certain memories came back to him. “Yours, you idiot,” said the scholar quietly. “Because I know what they can do when we ask them to do it. I meant what I said before. There’s never been a time in history likethis one. Far better that inept, frightened civilians, still talking, still searching, than one of us—forgive me, one of them—”
    A gust of wind blew off the sea; the sand spiraled about their feet. “That man,” said Converse, “the one who told you the network would take care of you. Why did he say it?”
    “He thought they could use me. He was one of the field commanders I knew in Korea, a kindred spirit then. He came to my island—for what reason I don’t know, perhaps a vacation, perhaps to find me,
who
knows—and found me on the waterfront. I was taking my boat out of the Plati Harbor when suddenly he appeared, tall, erect and very military in the morning sun. ‘We have to talk,’ he said, with that same insistence we always used in the field. I asked him aboard and we slowly made our way out of the bay. Several miles out of the Plati he presented his case,
their
case.
Delavane’s
case.”
    “What happened then?”
    The scholar paused for precisely two seconds, then answered simply, “I killed him. With a scaling knife. Then I dropped his body over a cluster of sharks beyond the shoals of the Stephanos.”
    Stunned, Joel stared at the old man—the iridescent light of the moon heightened the force of the macabre revelation. “Just like that?” he said in a monotone.
    “It’s what I was trained to do, Mr. Converse. I was the Red Fox of Inchon. I never hesitated when the ground could be gained, or an adversarial advantage eliminated.”
    “You
killed
him?”
    “It was a necessary decision, not a wanton taking of life. He was a recruiter and my response was in my eyes, in my silent outrage. He saw it, and I understood. He could not permit me to live with what he’d told me. One of us had to die, and I simply reacted more swiftly than he did.”
    “That’s pretty cold reasoning.”
    “You’re a lawyer, you deal every day with options. Where was the alternative?”
    Joel shook his head, not in reply but in astonishment. “How did Halliday find you?”
    “We found each other. We’ve never met, never talked, but we have a mutual friend.”
    “In San Francisco?”
    “He’s frequently there.”
    “Who is he?”
    “It’s a subject we won’t discuss. I’m sorry.”
    “Why not? Why the secrecy?”
    “It’s the way he prefers it. Under the circumstances, I believe it’s a logical request.”
    “Logic? Find me logic in any of this! Halliday reaches a man in San Francisco who just happens to know you, a former general thousands of miles away on a Greek island who just
happens
to have been approached by one of Delavane’s people. Now, that’s coincidence, but damned little logic!”
    “Don’t dwell on it. Accept it.”
    “Would you?”
    “Under the circumstances, yes, I would. You see, there’s no alternative.”
    “Sure there is. I could walk away five hundred thousand dollars richer, paid by an anonymous stranger who could only come after me by revealing himself.”
    “You could but you won’t. You were chosen very carefully.”
    “Because I could be motivated? That’s what Halliday said.”
    “Frankly, yes.”
    “You’re off the wall, all of you!”
    “One of us is dead. You were the last person he spoke with.”
    Joel felt the rush of anger again, the sight of a dying man’s eyes burned into his memory. “Aquitaine,” he said softly. “
Delavane
.… All right, I was chosen carefully. Where do I