F Paul Wilson - Novel 02 by Implant (v2.1)

and intimate self-expression
was spray painting the name of their favorite heavy metal group on a wall.
                 But
then, one of the central pieces on exhibit at the National Gallery at the time
had been a huge mural, ten feet high, twenty long, all stark white except for a
beige vertical stripe two feet from the left edge.
                 Maybe
the kids were onto something after all, Megadeth Rules indeed.
                 Duncan hadn't been back since.
                 Further
on, a dirty, unshaven man approached him, wearing a black trash bag, he had the
drawstring around his waist, his head and arms poking through appropriately
placed slits.
                 "Got
some spare change for an old soldier?" the tatterdemalion said.
                 Duncan stopped and reached into his pocket.
"Which war was that?"
                "Which one were you in?"
the man said.
                 '"The
Korean Conflict, as it is now known." Not true. He'd been in college then,
premed. But he wanted to see what this "old soldier" would say.
                 "Me
too." Duncan had to smile. "What if I'd said Vietnam ?"
                "Was in that one too. I'm the
Unknown Soldier." Duncan figured he probably meant Universal Soldier but then again, it was very
likely that he couldn't remember his name.
                 "Clever
rain gear you've got there, soldier. The latest from the House of Hefty, if I'm
not mistaken."
                "Does the job."
                Duncan handed him a twenty-dollar bill. The man
glanced at it, then did a double take.
                 "God,
man! Thanks! Thanks a million!"
                "Why not? I expect this to be
a good day for me. Might as well be a good one for you too." The fellow
began backing away, most likely trying to put some distance between them before Duncan changed his mind. "I'll spend this
wisely, I assure you, sir."
                Duncan laughed. "I'm sure you will."
                 "And
you have a good day."
                 "I
assure you I will. A very good day." It all goes according to plan this
time.
                 Anxiety
nibbled at his stomach lining like hungry fish. Timing was everything here, but
with so many variables beyond his control, luck was a considerable factor as
well. And Duncan hated to depend on luck.
                 He
walked on until he spotted the camera crew setting up on the House side at the
base of the steps leading up to the west portico of the Capitol.
                 "Something
big happening?" Duncan asked.
                 "Just
an interview," the bearded cameraman said. "Congressman ."
                "Which one?"
                "Allard."
                "Not Kenneth Allard! The
Kenneth Allard? Here? Right here? " Duncan clapped his hands. "He's one of my favorites!"
The cameraman grinned at the soundman. "First time I ever heard anyone say
that."
                "Oh, he's a great statesman. A
wonderful intellect. An isle of probity in a sea of venality."
                 "If
you say so." Obviously the cameraman had lost what little interest he'd
had in talking to Duncan . Not that Duncan could blame him.
                 Make
sure that camera's working, Duncan thought. You're going to see the end of someone's career.
                 He
headed up the four flights of granite steps that led to the Capitol.
                 He
had to get to Congressman Allard before Allard got to the camera.
                 Last
night he'd heard a TV newsreader mention that they'd be interviewing
Congressman Allard today on the revival of the Joint Committee on Medical
Ethics and Practice Guidelines. Duncan had decided then to be here bright and
early. This was too rare an opportunity to miss.