'Could an operative like this be… someone in the clergy?'
'Why not?'
Harry didn't remember getting off the phone, or leaving his office, or walking in the August heat and smog along Rodeo Drive or even where or how he crossed Wilshire Boulevard. All he knew was that somehow he was in Neiman-Marcus and a very attractive young woman was showing him ties.
'I don't think so.' Harry shook his head at a proffered Hermes tie. 'Why don't I just look around on my own…'
'Sure.' The woman smiled at him with the kind of flirtatious glow he used to do something about. But not now, maybe not ever again. Today was Wednesday. Saturday he was going back to Italy to meet Elena's family. Elena was all he thought about, saw in his dreams, felt with every breath. That was until now, after the phone call to the Time correspondent, and on the way here, when he had the sudden and all-too-clear memory of facing Thomas Kind in the Vatican railroad station and boldly telling him across his murderous machine pistol – 'I know my brother better than he thinks.'
NOC, Non-Official Cover – so concealed and protected even the Director of Central Intelligence might not know.
Danny. Jesus H. Christ, maybe he didn't know him at all.
For technical information and advice I am especially grateful to Alessandro Pansa, head of the Central Operative Service of the Italian National Police, Father Gregory Coiro, media relations director for the Catholic Archdiocese of Los Angeles, Leon I. Bender, M.D., and Gerald Svedlow, M.D., Niles Bond, Marion Rosenberg, Imara, Gene Mancini, senior biological consultant, Master Gunnery Sergeant Andy Brown and Staff Sergeant Douglas Fraser, United States Marine Corps, and Norton F. Kristy, Ph.D.
I am additionally grateful to Alessandro D'Alfonso, Nicola Merchiori, Wilton Wynn, and, particularly, Luigi Bernabo, for their assistance in Italy.
I am indebted as well to Larry Kirshbaum and Sarah Crichton, and, as always, the wizardry of Aaron Priest. Finally, a most particular thanks to Frances Jalet-Miller for her excellent suggestions and enduring patience in reworking the manuscript.
Until the international success of THE DAY AFTER TOMORROW, Allan Folsom was a jobbing screen writer, contributing to such series as Hart to Hart. He now lives in Santa Barbara with his wife, an artist, and their young daughter.
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