distraction, and returned her attention to me. “There’s a man called Mac, isn’t there? And there’s an organization that hasn’t got a name, but they call it the wrecking crew, or sometimes the M-group. The M stands for murder, Helm!”
I hadn’t heard that one. Some smart-alec must have come up with it since my time. “You’re telling it, honey,” I said. “Keep it coming.”
Her head came up sharply. “Damn you, don’t call me honey! Do you know where I got this information? Not from our side, from theirs! For years we’ve been hearing sly propaganda about an American Mordgruppe —hearing it and laughing at it and combating it as best we could, thinking it was nothing but their clumsy effort to justify their own dirty assassination teams. I can remember, when I was stationed in Paris, laughing myself silly when somebody asked me in all seriousness about this fellow called Mac, in Washington, who points a finger and someone dies. ‘My dear man,’ I said, giggling, ‘you can’t really believe we operate like that!’ But we do, don’t we?”
I said, “Finish the story, Sara. Let’s pass the rhetorical questions.”
She said, “I knew there was something odd when we were notified you were coming… Helm, don’t we stand for anything? Have they actually succeeded in dragging us down to their level? Is the world simply divided into two hostile camps, with no moral distinction between them? I had to have a look at you; that’s why I went to Gothenburg this morning, even though it was terribly bad technique. I had to see what kind of a man... I’m not going to do it, Helm! I’ve given you all the help you’re going to get. As a matter of fact—”
“As a matter of fact, what?”
“Never mind,” she said. “You can protest through channels, of course. You can try to have me removed from my post.”
“Don’t worry,” I said. I reached for the door handle. “Don’t worry about a thing, Sara. Just go back to collecting and evaluating important information… Well, I’d better be getting back to the hotel, and I guess I’d better arrive on foot, since I left that way.”
She said, “Helm, I—”
“What?”
“Don’t sneer just because I—”
“No sneer was intended, honey. I respect all your finer feelings, every last little one of them.”
“Can’t you understand how I feel? Can’t I make you see how wrong it is?”
My wife had asked me that, too. She’d wanted me to understand how she felt, and I’d understood perfectly. She’d wanted me to see how wrong it was, and I’d seen. They all see what’s wrong with the world, and tell you all about it—as if you’d never noticed it before—but none of them has any practical suggestions about how to fix it. One day we’ll all live on chemicals and never kill a living thing. Meanwhile, we eat meat and take the world as it is. At least some of us do.
“Good night, Sara,” I said, getting out of the car.
Walking away, I was aware of a quick, glowing arc at the corner of my vision as she flicked her cigarette away into the dark. The car door slammed shut behind me. The little Volkswagen motor in the tail of the Ghia started to turn over, and stopped abruptly. I heard her muffled cry. Then they were on top of me.
Lead with your right and take your licking like a man, Mac had said, but it was a good thing I’d taken the precaution of leaving the knife behind. It was a wonderful, tempting spot for it. There’s nothing like a knife when you’re outnumbered three to one and fighting in the dark. But I didn’t have it, and I wasn’t supposed to know judo or karate, and as far as I’m concerned fist fighting is for kids. I did get one of them lightly with my knee, hoping it would seem accidental, and I bruised my knuckles on the other two, swinging wildly.
Then they had me by the arms, and a couple more were shoving Sara Lundgren along the walk toward me.
8
They took us back through the trees into the little clearing
I hadn’t heard that one. Some smart-alec must have come up with it since my time. “You’re telling it, honey,” I said. “Keep it coming.”
Her head came up sharply. “Damn you, don’t call me honey! Do you know where I got this information? Not from our side, from theirs! For years we’ve been hearing sly propaganda about an American Mordgruppe —hearing it and laughing at it and combating it as best we could, thinking it was nothing but their clumsy effort to justify their own dirty assassination teams. I can remember, when I was stationed in Paris, laughing myself silly when somebody asked me in all seriousness about this fellow called Mac, in Washington, who points a finger and someone dies. ‘My dear man,’ I said, giggling, ‘you can’t really believe we operate like that!’ But we do, don’t we?”
I said, “Finish the story, Sara. Let’s pass the rhetorical questions.”
She said, “I knew there was something odd when we were notified you were coming… Helm, don’t we stand for anything? Have they actually succeeded in dragging us down to their level? Is the world simply divided into two hostile camps, with no moral distinction between them? I had to have a look at you; that’s why I went to Gothenburg this morning, even though it was terribly bad technique. I had to see what kind of a man... I’m not going to do it, Helm! I’ve given you all the help you’re going to get. As a matter of fact—”
“As a matter of fact, what?”
“Never mind,” she said. “You can protest through channels, of course. You can try to have me removed from my post.”
“Don’t worry,” I said. I reached for the door handle. “Don’t worry about a thing, Sara. Just go back to collecting and evaluating important information… Well, I’d better be getting back to the hotel, and I guess I’d better arrive on foot, since I left that way.”
She said, “Helm, I—”
“What?”
“Don’t sneer just because I—”
“No sneer was intended, honey. I respect all your finer feelings, every last little one of them.”
“Can’t you understand how I feel? Can’t I make you see how wrong it is?”
My wife had asked me that, too. She’d wanted me to understand how she felt, and I’d understood perfectly. She’d wanted me to see how wrong it was, and I’d seen. They all see what’s wrong with the world, and tell you all about it—as if you’d never noticed it before—but none of them has any practical suggestions about how to fix it. One day we’ll all live on chemicals and never kill a living thing. Meanwhile, we eat meat and take the world as it is. At least some of us do.
“Good night, Sara,” I said, getting out of the car.
Walking away, I was aware of a quick, glowing arc at the corner of my vision as she flicked her cigarette away into the dark. The car door slammed shut behind me. The little Volkswagen motor in the tail of the Ghia started to turn over, and stopped abruptly. I heard her muffled cry. Then they were on top of me.
Lead with your right and take your licking like a man, Mac had said, but it was a good thing I’d taken the precaution of leaving the knife behind. It was a wonderful, tempting spot for it. There’s nothing like a knife when you’re outnumbered three to one and fighting in the dark. But I didn’t have it, and I wasn’t supposed to know judo or karate, and as far as I’m concerned fist fighting is for kids. I did get one of them lightly with my knee, hoping it would seem accidental, and I bruised my knuckles on the other two, swinging wildly.
Then they had me by the arms, and a couple more were shoving Sara Lundgren along the walk toward me.
8
They took us back through the trees into the little clearing
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