Ludlum, Robert - The Icarus Agenda

'Tell that to the citizens of the Soviet Union.'

'Checkmate. But don't try to explain that to the refuseniks and the dissidents who every day make the world more aware of the dark corners of Kremlin policy. They are making a difference, Doctor.'

'Excesses!' cried Winters. 'Everywhere on this poor, doomed planet there is excess. It will blow us apart.'

'Not if reasonable people expose excess and do not join it in hysteria. Your cause may have been right, but in your excess you violated laws—written and unwritten—and caused the deaths of innocent men and women because you considered yourself above the laws of the land. Rather than telling the country what you knew, you decided to manipulate it.'

'That is your determination?'

'It is. Who are the others in this Inver Brass?'

'You know that name?'

'I just said it. Who are they?'

'You'll never learn from me.'

'We'll find them… ultimately. But for my own curiosity, where did this organization start? If you don't care to answer, it doesn't matter.'

'Oh, but I do care to answer,' said the old historian, his thin hands trembling to the point where he gripped them together on the table. 'Decades ago Inver Brass was born in chaos, when the nation was being torn apart, on the edge of self-destruction. It was the height of the great depression; the country had come to a stop and violence' was erupting everywhere. Hungry people care little about empty slogans and emptier promises, and productive people who've lost their pride through no fault of their own are reduced to fury… Inver Brass was formed by a small group of immensely wealthy, influential men who had followed the advice of the likes of the financier Bernard Mannes Baruch and were unscathed by the economic collapse. They were also men of social conscience and put their resources to work in practical ways, stemming riots and violence not only by massive infusions of capital and supplies into inflamed areas, but by silently ushering laws through Congress that helped to bring about measures of relief. It is that tradition that we follow.'

'Is it?' asked Payton quietly, his eyes cold, studying the old man.

'Yes,' answered Winters emphatically.

'Inver Brass… What does it mean?'

'It's the name of a marshy inlet in the Highlands of Scotland that's not on any map. It was coined by the first spokesman, a banker of Scots descent, who understood that the group had to act in secrecy.'

'Therefore without accountability?'

'I repeat. We seek nothing for ourselves!'

'Then why the secrecy?'

'It's necessary, for although our decisions are arrived at dispassionately for the good of the country, they're not always pleasant or in the eyes of many even defensible. Yet they were for the good of the nation.'

'“Even defensible?”' repeated Payton, astonished at what he was hearing.

‘I’ll give you an example. Years ago our immediate predecessors were faced with a government tyrant who had visions of reshaping the laws of the country. A man named John Edgar Hoover, a giant who became obsessed in his old age, who had gone beyond the bounds of rationality, blackmailing presidents and senators—decent men—with his raw files, which were rampant with gossip and innuendo. Inver Brass had him eliminated before he brought the executive and the legislative, in essence the government, to its knees. And then a young writer named Peter Chancellor surfaced and came too close to the truth. It was he and his intolerable manuscript that caused the demise of Inver Brass then—but not its resurrection.'

'Oh, my God!' exclaimed the director of Special Projects softly. 'Good and evil, decided solely by you, sentences pronounced only by you. A legend of arrogance.'

'That's unfair! There was no other solution. You're wrong'.'

'It's the truth.' Payton stood up, pushing the chair behind him. 'I've nothing more to say, Dr Winters. I'll leave now.'

'What are you going to do?'

'What has to be done. I'm filing a report for the President, the Attorney General and the congressional oversight committees. That's the law… You're out of business, Doctor. And don't bother to see me to the door, I'll find my way.'

Payton walked out into the cold grey morning air. He breathed deeply, trying to fill his lungs but unable to do so. There was too much weariness, too much that was sad and offensive—on Christmas Eve. He reached the steps and started down to his car when suddenly, shattering the grounds, was a loud report—a gunshot. Payton's driver lunged out of the car, crouching in the drive, his weapon steadied by both hands.

MJ slowly shook his head and continued towards the back door of the vehicle. He was drained. There were no reservoirs of strength to draw from; his exhaustion was complete. Nor was there now the urgency to fly out to California. Inver Brass was finished, its leader dead by his own hand. Without the stature and authority of Samuel Winters, it was in shambles and the manner of his death would send the message of collapse to those who remained… Evan Kendrick? He had to be told the whole story, all sides of it, and make up his own mind. But it could wait—a day at least. All MJ could think of as the driver opened the door for him was to get home, have several more drinks than were good for him, and sleep.

'Mr. Payton,' said the driver, 'you had a radio Code Five, sir.'

'What was the message?'

'“Contact San Jacinto. Urgent.”'

'Return to Langley, please.'

'Yes, sir.'

'Oh, in case I forget. Have a Merry Christmas.'

Thank you, sir.'

The Icarus Agenda

Chapter 44

'We'll look in on him at least once an hour, Miss Rashad,' said the middle-aged naval nurse behind the counter. 'Rest assured of it… Did you know the President himself called the congressman this afternoon?'

'Yes, I was there. And speaking of phones, there are to be no calls put through to his room.'

'We understand. Here's the note; it's a copy of the one each operator has at the switchboard. All calls are to be referred to you at the Westlake Hotel.'

'That's correct. Thank you very much.'

'It's a pity, isn't it? Here it is Christmas Eve and instead of being with friends and singing carols or whatever, he's bandaged up in a hospital and you're stuck by yourself in a hotel room.'

'I'll tell you something, Nurse. The fact that he's here and alive makes it the best Christmas I could ever hope to have.'

'I know, dear. I've seen you two together.'

'Take care of him. If I don't get some sleep, he won't consider me much of a present in the morning.'

'He's our number one patient. And you rest, young lady. You look a mite haggard and that's a medical opinion.'

'I'm a mess is what I am.'

'In my best days I should be such a mess.'

'You're sweet,' said Khalehla, putting her hand on the nurse's arm and squeezing it. 'Good night. See you tomorrow.'

'Merry Christmas, dear.'

'It is. And have a merry one yourself.' Rashad walked down the white corridor to the bank of elevators and pressed the lower button. She had meant it about needing sleep; except for a brief twenty minutes when both she and Evan dozed off, she had not closed her eyes in nearly forty-eighth hours. A hot shower, a warm room-service meal, and bed was the order of the night. In the morning she would shop in one of those stores that stayed open for the benefit of errant people who had forgotten someone and buy a few silly presents for her… intended? My God, she thought. For my fiancé. Too much.

It was funny, though, how Christmas undeniably brought out the gentler, kinder aspects of human nature—regardless of race, creed, or lack of both. The nurse, for instance. She was sweet, and probably a rather lonely woman with too large a body and a pudgy face unlikely to be chosen for a recruitment poster. Yet, she had tried to be warm and kind. She had said that she knew how the congressman's lady felt because she had seen them together. She had not. Khalehla remembered every person who had come into Evan's room and the nurse was not one of them. Kindness… reaching-out, whatever one cared to call it, it was Christmas. And her man was safe. The elevator doors parted and she walked into the descending cage feeling secure and warm and kind.