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

maniac. A dangerous, egotistical madman who’s interfering violently with peaceful pursuits.”
    “I’m a lawyer, Lieutenant, not an avenging angel. Your maniac made several contributions to other—game plans. He’s got a lot of people in his corner. I met with eight—
four
—this afternoon.” Sam looked at his glass; where did the bourbon go?
    “Not any more, he doesn’t,” said the officer flatly.
    “He doesn’t what?”
    “Whatever constituency he had will disappear.”
    “Constituency? He’s a politician?” Sam decided he needed another drink. He couldn’t follow this Buster Brown any longer. So why not get really drunk?
    “He
peed
on the Stars and Stripes! That’s a Peoria no-no!”
    “Did he really reach?”
    “We’re sending you to China,” continued Lodestone, overlooking the question, “in the fastest way possible. Phantom jet aircraft over the northern route, stops in Juneau and the Aleutians, into Tokyo. From there a supply carrier to Peking. I’ve brought all the papers you need from Washington.”
    Devereaux mumbled into his bourbon. “I don’t like moo goo gai pan and I hate egg rolls.…”
    “May I suggest you get some rest, sir? It’s almost twenty-three hundred and we have to leave for the airbase at oh four hundred. You take off at dawn.”
    “Wish I’d said that, Lodestone. Nice ring to it. Five hours. And you’re down the hall but not
in here
.”
    “Sir?” The young man cocked his head.
    “I’m going to give you an order. Go away. I don’t want to see you until you come to sew in my name tags.”
    “What?”
    “Get the hell out of here.” And then Sam remembered and his eyes—though slightly glazed—were laughing. “You know what you are, Lieutenant? You’re a pricky-shit. A real, honest-to-God pricky-shit. Now I know what it means!”
    Four hours.… He wondered.
    It was worth a try. But first he needed another drink.
    He poured it and walked to the writing desk andlaughed at the Peking telephotos. The son of a bitch had flair, no question about it. But he was not at the desk to look at the photographs; he opened the drawer and took out his notebook. He turned the pages and did his best to focus on his own handwriting. He walked to the telephone by the bed, dialed nine, and then the number on the page.
    “Hello?” The voice was magnolia-soft and Sam could actually smell the oleander blossoms.
    “Mrs. Greenberg? This is Sam Devereaux—–”
    “Well, how’re
you
?” Regina’s greeting was positively enthusiastic; there was no attempt to conceal her pleasure that the caller was a man. “We were all wondering which one you’d call. I’m really flattered, M
ay
jor! I mean, actually, I’m the elder stateswoman. I’m really touched.”
    Her husband was probably out, thought Sam through the bourbon, warmed by the memory of her challenging, translucent shirt.
    “That’s very kind of you. You see, in a little while I’m going to go on a long, long trip. Over oceans and mountains and more oceans and islands and …”
Jesus!
He hadn’t figured out how to put it; he hadn’t really been sure he could dial her number. Goddamn bourbon fantasies! “Well, it’s sheecrit—
secret
. Very covert. But I’m going to talk to your—namesake?”
    “Of
cawsse
, lover! And naturally, you didn’t get half a ch
ay
nce to ask all those important government questions. I understand, I
really do.
”
    “Well, several items came up, one in particular—–”
    “It usually does. I do believe I should do all I can to help the government in its delicate situation. You’re at the Beverly Hills?”
    “Yes, ma’m. Room eight twenty.”
    “Wait a sec.” She put her hand over the receiver, but Sam could hear her calling out. “
Manny!
There’s a national emergency. I have to go to town.”

CHAPTER FIVE
    “Major! Major Devereaux! Your phone is off the hook. That’s a no-no.”
    An incessant, ridiculously loud knocking accompanied Lodestone’s nasal