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"How about you waiting outside the door with Jefferson?" Ke
Christian, panicked by the implication of this request, slammed down the fragile coffee cup and said earnestly, "Please, Francis, I can't do that.
Naturally he'll be secured, he will be physically helpless, but I still have to be between the two of you. This is one time I have to use the vet– you gave me." He tried to hide his fear of what Francis right do.
They both smiled. It had been part of their deal when Christian had guaranteed the safety of the President. That Christian as head of the Secret Service could veto any presidential exposure to the public. "I've never abused that power," Christian said.
Ke
"I'll set everything up," Christian said. "But, Francis, this can't help you."
Christian Klee prepared Yabril for the meeting with President Ke
There had, of course, been many interrogations, but Yabril had smilingly refused to answer any questions. He had been very cool, very confident, and was willing to make conversation in a general way-discuss politics,
Marxist theory, the Palestinian problem, which he called the Israeli problem-but he refused to talk about his background or his terrorist operations. He refused to talk about Romeo, his partner, or about Theresa Ke
Yabril's prison was a small ten-bed hospital built by the FBI for the holding of dangerous prisoners and valuable informers. This hospital was staffed by Secret Service medical perso
These hospitals were sometimes used for secret medical experiments on volunteer prison inmates. But Klee had cleared out the hospital in Washington, D.C., to hold Yabril in isolation. He had also cleaned out the hospital in Long Island to hold the two young scientists who had planted the atom bomb.
In the Washington hospital, Yabril lived in a medical suite fully equipped to abort any suicide attempt by violence or fasting. There were physical restraints and equipment for intravenous feeding.
Every inch of Yabril's body, including his teeth, had been X-rayed, and he was always restrained by a specially made loose jacket that permitted him only partial use of his arms and legs. He could read and write and walk with little steps, but could not make violent movements. He was also under twenty-four-hour surveillance through a two-way mirror by teams of Secret Service agents from Klee's special division.
After Christian left President Ke
Yabril said contemptuously, "You're a very careful man, with all your power."
"I believe in being careful," Christian told him gravely. "I'm like those engineers who build bridges and buildings to withstand a hundred times more stress than possible. That's how I run my job."
"They are not the same thing," Yabril said. "You ca
"I know," Christian said. "But it relieves my anxieties and it serves well enough. Now the reason for my visit: I've come to ask you a favor."
At this Yabril laughed, a fine derisive laugh but a laugh of genuine mirth.
Christian stared at him and smiled. "No, seriously, this is a favor it is in your power to grant or refuse. Now listen carefully. You've been treated well-that is my doing and also the laws of this country. I know it's useless to threaten. I know you have your pride, but it is a small thing I ask, one that will not compromise you in any way. And in return I promise to do everything I can so that nothing unfortunate will happen. I know that you still have hope. You think your comrades of the famous First Hundred will come up with something clever so that we will have to set you free."
Yabril's thin dark face lost its saturnine mirthfulness. He said, "We tried several times to mount an action against your President Ke
Christian leaned back on the sofa. Part of his brain noted that since
Yabril had found his trail he was far too dangerous ever to be let free under any circumstances. Yabril had been foolish to let out that information. Then Christian concentrated on the business at hand. He said, "President Ke
Yabril, loosely locked in his jacket, tried to raise his arms in a gesture of rejection. He totally lacked physical fear, and yet the idea of meeting the father of the girl he had murdered aroused an agitation that surprised him. After all, it had been a political act, and a President of the United States should understand that better than anyone.
Still, it would be interesting to look into the eyes of the most powerful man in the world and say, "I killed your daughter. I injured you more grievously than you can ever injure me, you with your thousand ships of war, your tens of thousands of thunderbolt aircraft."
Yabril said, "Yes, I will do you this little favor. But you may not thank me in the end."
Klee got up from the sofa and lightly put a hand on Yabril's shoulder, but Yabril shrugged him away with contempt. "It doesn't matter," Klee said. "And I will be grateful…
Two days later, an hour after midnight, President Ke
On a small oval table inlaid with a shield of the Stars and Stripes was a silver platter of tiny sandwiches, a silver coffeepot and cups and saucers rimmed with gold. Jefferson poured the coffee into the three cups and then retreated to the door of the room and put his wide shoulders back against it. Ke
Ke
"No, Mr. President," Christian said. "Those are jacket and legging restraints."
"Can't you make him more comfortable?" Ke
"No, sir," Christian said.
Ke
Yabril nodded. Because of the restraints, it was with some difficulty that he helped himself to one of the sandwiches, which were delicious.
And it helped his pride in some way that his enemy could see that he was not completely helpless. He studied Ke