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“They won’t be so happy when they see where it leads. They’ve already forgotten Sarajevo and the killing fields of Flanders.”
“I bet they’re already ‘advising’ Americans that this is where our military ‘aggression’ inevitably leads, so we should take this as a sign that we need to change our policies and retreat from the world.”
“And maybe we will,” said Malich. “A lot of Americans would love to slam the doors shut and let the rest of the world go hang.”
“And if we did,” said Cole, “who would save Europe then? How long before they find out that negotiations only work if the other guy is scared of the consequences of not negotiating? Everybody hates America till they need us to liberate them.”
“You’re forgetting that nobody cares what Europeans think except a handful of American intellectuals who are every bit as anti-American as the French,” said Malich.
“You think we’ll do it?” said Cole. “Bottle ourselves up and let the world go to hell?”
“Would it be any better for us to get really pissed off and declare war on all of Islam?” said Malich. “Because we’ve got plenty of Americans who want to do that, too, and we don’t have the President anymore to hold them back.”
“I have a terrible feeling,” said Cole, “that some turban-wearing Sikhs are going to die today in America, and they’ve got nothing to do with this.”
They reached the end of the bridge.
“It’s weird,” said Cole. “I always feel like when I get to Virginia, I’m back in the United States. Like DC is a separate country. And not just DC. Maryland along with it. Like the Potomac is the boundary line between the country I love and a foreign country where they hate me because of this uniform.”
“Plenty of patriots in Maryland and points north,” Reuben reminded him. “Plenty of good soldiers come from there.”
“Can’t help how I feel about crossing this river. I know it’s crazy.”
They headed uphill into Arlington.
“You know who I hate today?” said Malich. “This isn’t like 9/11, when they exploited the loopholes in our open society, and we didn’t see it because of pure clumsiness. These terrorists today couldn’t have done what they did without the active cooperation of Americans who were in positions of trust.”
“At least you know Phillips didn’t have anything to do with it,” said Cole.
“Phillips? That lying sack of shit?” said Malich. “I don’t believe anything he told me. Just an aide to an aide? Yeah, if you think of the NSA as an ‘aide.’ He’s running an operation out of the White House and he knows way more than he’s telling me.”
“Then why did you have me give him my email and cell number?”
“Cole, they can get that in four seconds if they don’t already have it. By making him memorize it, maybe I convinced him that I trust him. At least a little.”
They stopped at a drugstore and Malich bought four disposable cellphones and ten ten-minute cards for them. He gave one of them to Cole and they memorized each other’s numbers. Except that Malich wouldn’t let him memorize the one he was activating right at the moment. “No point,” he said. “I’m throwing it away when this card is up. This is the last time I’m calling known numbers, but I still can’t keep this phone.”
Malich called his wife. It was brief. “You go ahead and visit Aunt Margaret without me,” he said. “I’ll get up there as soon as I can. I love you, Cessy.” Then he ended the call.
“So you’re sending her into hiding?” asked Cole.
“No, she’s just visiting her Aunt Margaret in New Jersey. We lived with her for a while when I was going to Princeton.”
“I thought it was a code.”
“I’m assuming our phone is tapped. If Cessy and I had some code, that would imply she’s part of my conspiracy.”
Cole thought: Is there anything this guy hasn’t thought of? Oh, yeah—he didn’t think of somebody passing his plans to the terrorists.
By then, Malich was calling numbers and leaving voice mail. Always the same message: “I always told you I was gonna take this job and shove it. Well, it’s shoved. Drinks?”
“Now that was code, right?” asked Cole.
“My unit back when I was still in the field. These guys had my back a long time. We’re going to meet later tonight near the Delta ticket area at Reagan. Want to come?”
“They don’t know me.”
“But they will.”
