Tom Anders sat behind a bottle of beer, near the window. Toby went into the bathroom, without looking back.
The atmosphere in there was decidedly chilly.
Bolan said, "I tried the radio and couldn't connect. This is the last place I expected to find you."
Anders growled, "You want a beer?"
Bolan waved the offer away. "Tell me about it."
Anders sighed and lit a cigarette. Following a long silence, he replied, "There was a shootout."
"Where?"
"Inside the walls at the Juliana Academy."
Bolan took a cigarette also, and dropped into a chair near the door. "So. Gordy didn't streak for Carl, after all."
Anders said, "Not unless he expected to find him at the Academy."
"What did he find there?"
"A padlock and a legal notice on the door. He was very upset. Then Copa came roaring in as the Mazzarelli army was withdrawing."
Bolan sighed. "I was afraid of that."
"Yeah. Guess you stoked the fires a bit too warmly. But who can figure those guys? He came in shooting, Sarge."
"Who won?"
"Nobody won. Nobody lost. Talk about your gangs that can't shoot straight… those guys must have fired a zillion rounds. But they didn't leave much blood behind. Copa got his hair parted. Guess it was just a scratch. He was alive and raving last I saw him "
Bolan grunted and asked, "How about Gordy?"
"Yeah, how 'bout Gordy. We don't know. We lost 'im in the bustout."
"He split."
"Yeah, he split. Him and about half his army shot their way out. The other half slipped over the back wall and faded away. I guess. Broad daylight, too. I don't know how the hell…"
"You lost Mazzarelli."
"We lost 'im, yeah."
"How's Smiley?"
"Smiley will be okay," Anders replied feebly. "But she's no help in this. They kept her stupid for a week. She's lucid now but she knows nothing."
"The other people are still under wraps?" "Oh sure. But they're giving nothing, either."
Bolan put out his cigarette and went to the window. He took a taste from Anders' bottle, made a face, said, "It's flat."
"That's not all that's flat," Anders replied, without emotion.
Bolan turned to look out the window. The voice was very soft as he inquired, "Why didn't you tell me that Nick was married to Molly Franklin?"
"It didn't seem pertinent,"
"That's not for you to decide, Tom. When I ask for a briefing, I don't want you deciding what's pertinent and what is not. I expect a total package."
"Sorry. I guess none of us are perfect."
Bolan ignored the reflexive dig. "What else did you think was not pertinent?"
"What do you mean?"
He turned the icy blues straight onto his longtime friend. "You know what I mean," he said quietly.
Anders sighed heavily and broke the penetrating eye contact. "Yeah. I guess I do."
At that point, Toby came out of the bathroom with a clatter. She struck a pose with hips outthrust and angrily said to Anders, "You tell him not a damn thing! You tell him nothing!"
Bolan growled, "Sit on it, Toby."
She said, "Go to hell! You blew it and you know you blew it. So don't come in here with your accusing eyes and bleeding hands and-and…"
Very quietly he told her, "I've located Carl." That stunned her. Those great eyes flared as she gasped, "What?! Where?!"
Anders jumped to his feet, upsetting the beer. "Is he okay?"
Bolan turned a hard look his way. "You want a full briefing? Or do you want it SOG style?"
The little guy cried, "Jesus God, I-don't play with it, dammit! Is he okay or isn't he?"
Bolan very deliberately lit another cigarette.
Toby slumped to the floor and put her head on upraised knees. In a muffled voice, she said, "Okay, Captain Cute. We surrender. For God's sake…"
"He's alive. And reasonably well. For the moment, anyway."
Anders gave not a sound. He turned quickly away and busied himself with the spilled beer.
Toby lay back on the floor and hiked her skirt up to the waist-then lay there spread-eagled with eyes closed, the lovely face composed and giving no hint of the rampaging emotions within. But the closed eyes were leaking fluid.
Bolan stood over her and took a long pull at the cigarette. He nudged a bare thigh with the side of his foot and growled, "Cut it out, Toby. What's this for?"
Her voice came small and contrite. "The symbolism should be obvious. You're right and I'm wrong. So ravish me. Both of you. Go ahead."
"You're lucky it's the wrong time and place, babe," he told her.
"Sarge, sit down." Anders said. "Let's square this up."
Toby opened her eyes and blinked back the moisture as she seconded the motion. "Please."
They were apologizing. He was accepting. "Okay. You first."
"Okay, so you're right," Anders said. "The dope traffic is a fringe issue. Nick Copa has been the mission goal all along. Anything beyond that is just pure haze, at the moment."
"Of course, the heroin was a very convenient point of entry," Toby said.
"So why all the cutesy?" Bolan asked. "Why didn't you just-?"
"Know where we're at? This could just be the home of our next president. It's politically sensitive territory," Anders said.
Toby: "But of course it's almost virgin territory for the Mob."
Bolan: "There no such thing as almost a virgin."
Anders: "Call it political virginity." Toby: "It's still a virgin."
Anders: "The good old boys have just been playing with themselves all these years. So that's technical virginity, anyway. But they've been ripe for rape for a long time."
Toby: "The rape became almost inevitable when a certain young senator suddenly began achieving such high national visibility. He's likely to be a presidential nominee the next time around."
Anders: "So the stakes are pretty high." Bolan smiled soberly. "High enough to SOG it, eh."
Toby said quickly, "That's right. We weren't trying to con you, big man. But it is a highly sensitive operation. We were ordered to give it the full silk glove treatment."
"The double soft," Bolan murmured.
"Right," said Anders. "This Tennessee senator is a pretty straight guy. As clean as any but he is a politician."
Bolan asked, "Does Copa have something on the guy?"
"Not yet. Bet your ass he's trying, though." Toby said, "What he can't find, he'll try to manufacture."
Anders: "We have the feeling that he's already clubbed a few others that way. But, see, this is all damned sensitive. I mean, if we came in here blowing whistles and waving a big stick-I mean, whether the guy is straight or not, he'll get dirtied. You know how things go in political life."
Toby: "It's the law of negatives. A single accusation is worth a thousand denials."
"And there's another law," Anders added.
"The law of reversal. If we don't do this cleanly, someone is bound to start yelling about dirty tricks."
Toby: "He means dirty campaign tricks."
Anders: "Right. We can't allow the hint of dirty tricks here. It could blow sky high. If this guy does get the nomination, he'll be running against the present administration. Our orders are to safe the area."
"Very quietly," Toby added.
Anders explained "The present administration figures to be re-elected, anyway. They don't want-an emotional issue, even a false one, could swing the thing off center."
Bolan quietly asked no one in particular, "Are you people working for the White House?"
The soggers exchanged quick glances. Anders took it. He replied, "Ultimately, sure. He's the Commander in Chief, isn't he? But we serve the office, not the man."
Bolan sighed and said, "Where've I heard that before?"
"This is clean," Toby assured him.
Bolan said, "And your orders are to safe the area. What exactly does that mean?"
Anders: "Exactly what it says. We have to quietly neutralize all subversive political influences in the area."
"Subversive to whom?"
"Subversive to the national interest. We're not working for any election campaign, if that's what you're getting at. This operation is strictly on the level. It gets sensitive only if it gets political. We're supposed to keep that from happening."