James BeauSeigneur - In His Image James

Decker's expression showed that he still didn't understand.

"Oh, but don't you see, Decker? He pulled the same trick on the both of us. I didn't even think to question his motives when he said that you wanted to write a profile story on me. I, too, was a victim of my own vanity."

Decker forced a smile. He didn't think it was very funny but he didn't want to deny the Ambassador his fun. And, besides, it was much better to have him laughing than angry. "Well," Decker said after a moment, "I don't see any reason we shouldn't go ahead and do that profile. Maybe we can still get the last laugh on Hank Asher. You'll get the coverage. And he won't be able to say I didn't bring back the story."

"I like the way you think, Mr. Hawthorne. You'd make a fine politician," he said in all sincerity.

Decker wasn't sure if it was a compliment or not.

Christopher Goodman stayed close to the guide as she took the U.N. tour group through two of the three council chambers – first the Economic and Social Council (ECOSOC), and then the Security Council Chamber. From there, they went to the Hall of the General Assembly. As they were leaving the General Assembly, Christopher went to look over the balcony at the visitor's lobby four floors below them. Midway between floors hung a replica of the Russian Sputnik, the first artificial satellite.

At that moment a group of men and women approached the rear entrance to the Hall of the General Assembly, led by a man in his early seventies. Each member of the group was politely but intently jockeying for position, staying far enough back to be respectful but close enough to hear what the man was saying and hoping to be the next to ask him a question. From their clothing it was obvious that they represented many different cultures and nationalities.

"I consider," the man was saying, "Secretary-General U Thant to have been not only my political mentor but my spiritual mentor as well. It was while I was serving him as Assistant Secretary-General that I first learned… " The man stopped suddenly in mid-sentence and turned sharply to examine the profile of the boy he had noticed out of the corner of his eye.

"What is it, Mr. Assistant Secretary?" someone asked, but for the moment he seemed unable to respond as he stared at the boy.

Christopher turned and saw that his tour group had moved on and was preparing to board an elevator. In his rush to rejoin the group he didn't even seem to notice the attention of the old man or the others in the entourage as he scrambled directly through their midst, coming within scant inches of the old man and then dashing away to reach his tour group before the elevator's doors closed.

"That boy!" the man said finally, as Christopher began to weave his way through a group of Japanese businessmen that stood between him and the elevator. "It's him. I know it is." Trying to recover from the apparent shock while there was still a chance to act, he yelled, "Stop him! Someone stop that boy!" But no one moved except to look around to see what was happening. The former U.N. Assistant Secretary-General had no time to explain or to wait for the others to get their bearings. He pushed his attendants aside and ran after the boy himself. He made a remarkable effort for a man his age but there was no real contest; his momentary hesitation had cost him his chance. Christopher was on the elevator and the doors closed behind him.

There had only been an instant of indecision, a moment's hesitation, but it was enough to make all the difference. Christopher was gone. "No! It's not fair," the man said, without explanation. He took no notice as the others rejoined him. They stared at him and at each other in confusion, hoping to find some hint of meaning to the strange episode.

"No!" he said again. "It wasn't supposed to be like this. It's not fair! I didn't even get to talk to him." His voice was now barely audible. No one had any idea of the significance of what had just taken place, or what the old man was saying, and he seemed to have no interest in letting them in on it. Then a thought occurred to him. "Alice," he said. "I must find Alice."

After the tour, Christopher looked for Decker but was met instead by a young aide sent by Ambassador Hansen to retrieve him. When they arrived at Hansen's office, Decker was just preparing to leave. "Well, Christopher," Jon Hansen asked, "how was your tour?"

Christopher was about to answer when a thin bald man with an auburn-red mustache and a deadly serious expression rushed through the open door into Hansen's office. Every eye in the outer office was on the man, their faces taking on a uniform look of dread. It seemed that they all recognized him, and though no one tried to stop him, it was clear there was something to be feared about this man's arrival.

"Jon, they've done it," the man said in a thick German accent. "I just talked to Fahd, and he confirmed that Syria, Jordan, Iraq, and Libya have launched a united attack against Israel."

"Damn!" said Hansen. "When did it happen?"

"Only moments before Fahd called. The Syrians have attacked from the north, along their mutual border with Israel and through Lebanon. Jordanian and Iraqi forces have launched a joint attack from the east. Syria, Libya, and Iraq have launched coordinated air strikes against Israeli airfields. There's no word yet on damage or whether the Israelis were able to get their planes off the ground."

"Damn!" Hansen said again.

Decker and Christopher had backed away to keep from interfering with what was going on, but both listened intently to the conversation, and apparently no one cared. It would all be on the news soon anyway.

As Hansen and the other man talked, they were interrupted by the tall blonde woman. "Father," she said, "Ambassador Rogers is on the phone and says he must speak with you immediately." Her manner was calm and typical of her high upbringing, but Decker could sense the concern in her voice… That, plus the fact that she had called him 'Father,' rather than 'Mr. Ambassador.'

Decker had no idea who Ambassador Rogers was, but it seemed both Hansen and the German were very anxious to talk with him. "Hello, Frank," Hansen said. "This is Jon. Ambassador Reichman is here with me. I understand that it's hit the fan over there. What can you tell us about the situation?" Hansen paused to listen but the look on his face said that he wasn't prepared for Rogers' answer.

"Tel Aviv! In the city?" Hansen said into the receiver in dismay. "Are you sure it's not just the military bases around there?"

Decker's ears perked up and he listened with new interest.

Hansen paused again and then put his hand over the phone and spoke to Reichman. "They're shelling civilian areas of Tel Aviv. Rogers says scores of bombs have already fallen."

Up until now, Decker had been satisfied just to listen to the Ambassadors' conversation, but now he had a personal stake in what was happening. He, too, broke with formality and came right up to the two men.

Hansen didn't seem to even notice the breach of protocol, but continued to listen to Ambassador Rogers on the phone. "Frank, are you all right?" he asked with some concern. Is the embassy in any danger?" Rogers' answer seemed to reassure Hansen about the immediate safety of the embassy staff.

"Okay, Frank," he said after another pause. "Hold on, I'll do it right now. Jackie!" Hansen said, directing his eyes to his daughter. "Get the Syrian Ambassador, the Russian Ambassador, and the Iraqi Ambassador on the phone right away, and in that order!"

The momentary break in the phone conversation allowed Hansen's glance to pass to Decker, who took advantage of the opportunity. "Tom Donafin is still in the hospital over there!"

Hansen paused for a brief fraction of a second, his eyes intently fixed on Decker's. The look on his face was of sincere concern but he did not answer. He had greater, more immediate concerns and responsibilities. He spoke back into the phone. "Frank, I'll apply every ounce of pressure that I can on this end to get them to stop bombing civilian targets, but I don't know what good it will do. It would help if you can give me a few specifics on what parts of the city are being hit and how much damage has been done." Hansen grabbed a pen and paper from his desk and began taking notes, every few seconds letting out an 'Uh huh.'