40

ROBERT HAD JUMPED from his chair screaming with joy. He embraced Mrs. Santorelli, hugged her, kissed her on her fat jowls.

"Thank God, thank God," he cried. Tears of joy streamed down his cheeks.

"We celebrate with my special pasta, yes?"

"Anything, Mrs. Santorelli."

Soon he would have them both in his arms. What did anything matter but that?

The Pencil stood to one side, impassively watching the monitor.

"Only a razor would have done it," he said, following the commentators' speculation of what had occurred. Apparently the authorities had crashed into the living quarters. Everyone had been taken away. As Robert's excitement cooled he joined the Pencil to watch the various live interviews.

Rocco, the Talker, came into the apartment and stood beside them.

"It is a propaganda field day for the Russians, of course," Ned Foreman, the President's National Security Advisor, was saying. "But then they deserve it. They saved the President's life. Perhaps we have here a new beginning on the road to world peace. Maybe, by a strange twist of fate, we have even broken the back of terrorism."

"Bullshit," Rocco sneered. "It is the Padre who made it possible." It was the longest sentence Robert had ever heard him utter.

Suddenly a wave of sadness washed over him. What would happen to his father-in-law now and the loyal men who accompanied him? How could he ever thank him? And yet, despite his happiness, something nagged at him. Surely the murders of the Saudi prince and the daughter of the Syrian President could not be excused.

Despite the happy outcome, he could not shake off the conflict in his heart and mind. After all, the freedom of Maria and Joey was paid for with their blood. Nor could he excuse himself. Hadn't he, in the end, stood on the sidelines and cheered them on? He looked at the Pencil.

"And the Arab boy?" Robert asked.

"He will go home to his mother. I have already made the arrangements," the Pencil said impassively.

"I feel very bad about the other two, Angelo," Robert said, compelled to express the thought.

"They will be going back to school."

Robert's heart lurched.

"They're alive?"

"We do not kill children for any government," Rocco said.

"Unfortunately, young people drive too fast," the Pencil said. He did not crack a smile. "It was no trouble finding bodies."