The Road to Gandolfo by Robert Ludlum Read Free Book Online Page A

because it’s with us every day. He taught us to break our molds. Sounds simple, doesn’t it? ‘Break your mold.’ But, lover, it sets you
free
. ‘You’re your own goddamned inventory,’ he used to say. ‘There’s nothing you
have
to do and nothing you
can’t
do; use your inventory and work like hell.’
    “Now, I don’t think that all of us believe that’s holy writ. But by gawd, he made each one of us try a lot harder. He set us free before it was chic and we haven’t done badly. So, you see, there’s not one of us—if Mac came knocking at the door—who wouldn’t accommodate him. You dig?”
    “I dig,” replied Sam quietly.
    The telephone rang. Regina reached behind the couch to the French phone on the marble table. She turned to Sam. “It’s for you.”
    Sam looked a bit startled. “I left your number with the hotel but I didn’t expect …” He walked to the table and took the phone.
    “He
what
?!” Blood drained from Sam’s face. He listened again. “Jesus! He
didn’t
!” And then in the weariness of aftershock: “Yes, sir. I can see he most certainly did.… I’ll go back to the hotel and await instructions. Unless you’d rather turn this over to someone else; my tour is up in a month, sir. I see. Five days at the outside, sir.”
    He hung up and turned to Hawkins’s Harem. Those four magnificent pairs of mammaries that both invited and defied description.
    “We’re not going to need you, ladies. Although Mac Hawkins may.”
    “I’m your only contact with Sixteen-hundred, Major,” said the young lieutenant as he paced—somewhat childishly, thought Sam—the plush Beverly Hills Hotel room. “You can refer to me as Lodestone. No names, please.”
    “Lieutenant Lodestone, Sixteen-hundred. Has a nice ring to it,” said Devereaux, pouring himself another bourbon.
    “I’d go easy on the alcohol.”
    “Why don’t you go to China instead? Of
me
, that is.”
    “You do have a long, long flight.”
    “Not if
you
make it, I don’t.”
    “In a way, I wish I could. Do you realize there are seven hundred million potential consumers over there? I’d really like to get a see-you shot of that market.”
    “A who?”
    “Close-up look. A real peek-see.”
    “Ohh. C-U. Not see-you—–”
    “What an opportunity!” The lieutenant stood by the hotel window, his hands clasped behind his back.
Caveat consumer
.
    “Then
go
, for Christ’s sake! In thirty-two days I’ve got a permit to get out of this Disneyland and I don’t want to trade my uniform in for a Chinese smock!”
    “I’m afraid I can’t, sir. Sixteen-hundred needs pro-PR now. All the other slambangs are gone. Some are turning out a crackerjack house organ at Dannemora.… Damn!” The lieutenant turned from the window and walked to the writing desk where there were a half dozen photographs, five by seven. “It’s all here, Major. All you need. They’re a little hazy, but they show Brand X, all right! He certainly can’t deny it now.”
    Sam looked at the blurred but definable telephotos from Peking. “He almost reached, didn’t he?”
    “Disgraceful!” The lieutenant winced as he studied the photographs. “There’s nothing left to be said.”
    “Except that he almost made it.” Sam crossed to an armchair and sat down with his bourbon. The lieutenant followed him.
    “Your head IG investigator in Saigon will fly his reports directly to you in Tokyo. Take them with you to Peking. They’ve got a lot of real dirt.” The young officer smiled his genuine smile. “Just in case you need some final stickum for the coffin.”
    “Gee, you’re a nice kid. Ever meet your father?” Sam drank a great deal of his bourbon.
    “You mustn’t personalize it, Major. It’s an objective operation and we have the input. It’s all part of the—–”
    “Don’t say again—–”
    “… game plan.” Lodestone swallowed the words. “Sorry. And anyway, if you do personalize it, what more do youwant? The man’s a