Джон Болл - The First Team

“Sit down,” Zalinsky said.

“Yes, Mr. Zalinsky.” He sat in the usual place and waited.

The administrator looked at him. “Why for is it that always you say the same thing to me?”

“Because that was your order,” Hewlitt answered. “You said that you were to be addressed in no other way. Major Barlov said it too.”

Zalinsky brushed a hand through the air. “It will be changed, I am not so anxious that I hear the sound of my own name all the time. I do not like it that much.”

Hewlitt debated his next question before he put it, but he wanted to measure the reaction. “Speaking of names, do you have a first name? You must, but no one seems to know what it is.”

“It is Feodor,” Zalinsky said, “but, like you, I do not use it. I now ask you something: you read our language, you must have read some of our propaganda.”

“A lot of it. It was my job.”

“But you are not yet convinced that we are right?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because your system doesn’t work.”

“It worked well enough that we won the war.”

“You won it,” Hewlitt said, “by deceit.”

Zalinsky smiled. “That is part of the system.”

“I shall remember that,” Hewlitt told him. “You wanted to see me.”

Zalinsky moved his hands on the top of his desk. “I have an embarrassment,” he said. “It is because of your Senator Fitzhugh. You are knowing him?”

“I have never met the senator,” Hewlitt said.

Zalinsky ignored the response. “The senator, he is a fool. He has now written a letter to our premier that is a nuisance to him. This Fitzhugh, he proposes to make peace for the United States.”

“On his own?” Hewlitt asked.

“I do not understand.”

“I mean, does he propose to make peace all by himself? Does he mean to speak for the President and the whole country?”

“President you have not,” Zalinsky said. “He has made himself absent and I sit here in his place. But yes, it is that Fitzhugh sees himself that he is now the person to speak for the country.”

“I doubt that,” Hewlitt said.

Zalinsky leaned back. “It is good that you say that, because it is that I wish you to see him. I do not want to having him here, I have no time for him. But you go, you explain.”

“Explain what, Mr. Zalinsky?”

“You have not stupidness, you should understand. This Senator Fitzhugh, he believes that he remains a fragment of the government. He does not understand that he is now nothing. He is allowed that he sits in his office, but he is playing with shadows.” “What you want me to do is to tell him that he’s through.” “Exactness. Also, please explain to him that he was granted interview because we wanted him to make a bigger face, as say the Chinese, and become reelected. That is absolutely all.”

Hewlitt pressed his lips together and thought for a moment. “If you want me to talk to him, Mr. Zalinsky, I will — of course. I suspect that it will make him… I mean, it will break him up completely.”

“It is overdue that he think badly of himself. Please to do this.” Hewlitt made an unnecessary note on the pad before him. “I’ll call the senator immediately for an appointment,” he said. “He will probably keep me waiting for a day or two; it’s usual.”

Zalinsky shrugged. “Only please to make it clear to him that he is not to annoy our premier with any more letters. If he does, we may have to take his toys away from him.”

“I’ll make it clear,” Hewlitt promised.

He was on his way from his office to the West Gate when a man he did not know fell in step beside him. He was a youngish type in Air Force uniform. He wore the twin bars of a captain, a rank of minimum importance in the military environment of Washington. “You’re Hewlitt, I believe,” he said.

Hewlitt looked at his unexpected companion and nodded.

“I’m Phil Scott,” the captain said. “Please, may I come by and see you about six-thirty? I know where.”

“O.K.,” Hewlitt said. He lifted his left arm, looked at the dial of his watch, and gave the exact time as he had it to the captain. Scott took off his own watch and made a pretext of resetting it. They went through the check-out gate one behind the other, then Hewlitt climbed into Frank’s waiting cab and was driven out into the traffic as usual. He did not look behind him to see what the captain had done or where he had gone.

Frank bent down and turned on the radio, keeping the volume reasonably low. “Might be something on the news,” he explained. “I’m kinda lookin’.”

“Good,” Hewlitt said.

“Your girl friend come through yet?” Frank asked.

“I want to ask about an Air Force captain,” Hewlitt said. “His name is Scott, Phil Scott. I don’t know him, although I’ve seen him around once or twice. He came up to me just as I was leaving and asked to see me this evening at six-thirty. He said that he knew where I lived.”

Frank guided the car through an intersection. “Don’t know him offhand, but I’ll try and find out. If he’s cornin’ by at six-thirty, that looks like dinner, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, I guess so, unless it’s a short visit over a drink.”

Frank devoted himself to his driving for a minute or two. “You know that Chinese restaurant near where you live?”

“Sure, I eat there every now and then.”

“Suppose you go there to eat tonight if he’s with you. If I find out anythin’ in time, I’ll get word to you.”

“You could phone me,” Hewlitt suggested. “Tell me that you may not be able to pick me up in the morning if anything’s wrong. If not, give me any other kind of message.”

“O.K. If I find out anythin’ in time; it’s pretty short and I may not be able to get hold o’ my boss.”

“Do what you can,” Hewlitt said. “I’ll play it cozy in the meanwhile.”

“That’s the word,” Frank said. The news broadcast began, but if there was any significant item on the air, Hewlitt did not recognize it as such. When they pulled up in front of his apartment Frank spoke a formal good night and drove away.

His guest arrived within two minutes of the appointed time. Hewlitt welcomed him and gestured toward his small portable bar. Captain Scott, still in uniform and immaculately so, bent instead over the stereo component equipment installed at one end of the room. “I’m interested in this stuff,” he said. “Could I hear it play?” “Of course.” Before Hewlitt could turn on the set himself Scott did so. The sound came on at once, the Tchaikovsky Fourth Symphony in the middle of the second movement. Scott set the volume at a slightly uncomfortably high level, but one which did reveal the system at its best. Then he spoke quietly to Hewlitt. “That’s the best cover that I know for listening devices,” he said. “After what happened to us, I don’t take any chances anywhere.”

“Don’t blame you,” Hewlitt agreed. He made two drinks at his small bar and placed one of them in his guest’s hand. “What can I do for you?” he asked.

Scott sampled his drink and approved of it. “Before that, let me introduce myself a little more. I’m simply an Air Force type a little like Bob Landers was, only not so much so — I’ll never be as good a man as he was.”

Hewlitt’s mnemonic memory functioned and a near-forgotten item came back to him. “I think I know you — aren’t you the officer who claimed Bob’s body and arranged for burial in Arlington?”

“That’s right,” Scott said. “I think they’d have left him there to rot. Anyhow, he rated Arlington as much as anyone, and that’s where he is. It wasn’t a solo operation, though, I had a lot of help from some other guys.”

“I’m glad to buy you a drink,” Hewlitt responded. “How about having dinner wifti me? There’s a little Chinese place near here — not the greatest, but the food’s not bad and there’s quite a bit of privacy. I doubt like hell that it’s bugged.”