Alex kissed Ardith soundly, then looked past her. “Hi, Valerie.”
She moved forward slowly. “Hello, Alex.”
Derek nodded curtly to her, then shot a quick glance over his shoulder to follow her eyes. Triumph flashed across his face, but almost instantly it was gone, and he was sullen and impassive once again.
Marc saw her then and smiled at her over the tops of the heads.
“Hello, Valerie,” Jackie said quietly, as they came up.
Valerie nodded. “Hello, Jackie.”
Marc came to stand next to her and gave her a warm smile. “Hi.” He looked around. “Where are Mary and the boys?”
“We called, and they said your plane was going to be an hour late. Matt had already fallen asleep by then, and Brett was close behind, so Mom decided to stay home with them.”
“We had heavy snow in Denver. They wouldn’t let us take off until it cleared a little.”
“That’s one thing about California,” Alex growled. “By late February, we have spring, while the rest of the country is still having winter.”
As they moved toward the exit, a small man with dark eyes and olive skin increased his step. He had come off the same plane but had hung back as Alex’s group had paused to greet Ardith and Valerie. Now he moved more quickly to keep up. Suddenly he spotted a tall man with flaming red hair. There was no flicker of recognition, but both timed their pace so that one stepped on the down escalator immediately behind the other.
“Any problems?” Yossi Kettleman asked quietly.
Yitzhak ben Tsur shook his head almost imperceptibly. “No. Does Nathan want us to stay with them?”
“No. He and Gondor are waiting for us in Westwood. They want a strategy session as soon as we can get there.”
“So how was the trip?” Ardith asked, as they walked through the tunnel area toward the main terminal and the baggage claim area.
“Tremendous!” Alex fairly bubbled. “Better than I’d hoped.” He turned to Valerie. “And this young man right here”—he grabbed Marc’s elbow—”was no small part of it. You should have seen him charm that delegation. I mean, it was something to watch. Wasn’t it, Jackie?”
She nodded, glancing sideways to catch Valerie’s expression. “Yes, it was. Marc made a great difference.”
Derek grunted, and his lips pressed into a tight line as Alex chattered on about their experience in Washington. When they reached the baggage carousels, he turned to Alex. “Well,” he said shortly. “Good night.”
“Oh, Derek,” Alex said, turning. “We’ll meet tomorrow afternoon to start the plans for next week’s session.”
Marc had just started to say something to Valerie, but that brought him around sharply. “Alex, tomorrow’s Saturday.”
“I know, I know. But two weeks from today we’ve got the final meeting in the Hotel LaRoche. We’ve got a heck of a lot to do before then.”
“I promised I would take my boys to the San Diego Zoo tomorrow.”
“Fine. Let’s make it four o’clock. That should give you plenty of time and give us all a chance to rest up.”
“Fine with me,” Derek said quickly.
Valerie turned and looked away as an awkward silence fell on the group. She heard Marc take a deep breath, then she turned back to watch the surrender.
“Alex, between South America, the New York trip, and this one to Washington, I’ve been gone eleven of the last sixteen days. I need to spend some time with my boys.”
There was a quick flash of surprise, then slight irritation. “Look, Marc, I know it’s been tough, but it all comes together or falls apart in these next two weeks. We can’t—”
“I promised them, Alex. All day tomorrow is their day. I can’t go back on that.”
Valerie’s eyes widened, and Jackie looked surprised too.
Ardith laid her hand on Alex’s arm. “And you promised me a little time tomorrow too,” she said softly. “Can’t it wait until Monday?”
That swung Alex around with real anger on his face, but she didn’t flinch, just met his gaze steadily. Suddenly he capitulated. “You’re right. We’ll all do better with a weekend off. But let’s hit it early Monday. Say, six-thirty?” There was a bit of a challenge as he looked at Marc.
“Fine. Thanks Alex.”
“Good night,” Derek said curtly and strode away.
“Well,” Marc said, “All I’ve got is carry-on luggage, so we’ll see you all later.” He handed the overnight case to Jackie. “I guess you’ll want this.”
“Yes, thank you, Marc.” There was the slightest pause. “For everything.” She turned her head slightly and nodded to Valerie. “Good night, Valerie.”
The sadness in her eyes was unmistakable, and it took Valerie back slightly. “Good night, Jackie.” She hesitated for a moment, then turned. “Good night, Ardith. Alex.”
Marc took her by the elbow, and they moved out the front door of the terminal.
As the three of them waited for the luggage to come onto the carousel, Ardith turned to her husband. “Was Marc as good as you say?”
“Absolutely. In more ways than one. I think we’ve got Quinn Gerritt nearly in the bag. We go to Switzerland next week to wrap everything up with him. That was all Marc’s idea. And with the Saudis, Mark was really something.”
Jackie nodded. “He was superb. All the rest of us, even some of the Air Force and State Department people, stood around feeling a little bit awkward. But Marc started in with his Arabic, and in ten minutes you would have thought he was a member of the royal family.”
Alex gave his wife a searching look. “While we are on the subject of Marc, what’s with you challenging me about tomorrow, Ardith? That’s not like you.”
She shrugged, her eyes thoughtful. “I was trying to help you save face.”
“Me?” he blurted. “You bailed Marc out of a hole, not me.”
“He wasn’t going to back down, Alex. Even if you had pushed harder.”
Alex started to respond, then let it die, thinking about what she had said.
“And what about Derek?” Ardith asked.
“What about him?”
“You hurt him deeply tonight when you were so open in your praise of Marc and didn’t say a word about him.”
“He ought to be grateful I didn’t say anything about him,” Alex snapped. “Mr. Derek Parkin did not do a lot to endear himself to me on this trip.”
The sudden anger in Alex’s voice surprised Ardith, but no less than the expression of contempt that crossed Jackie’s face. “What happened?” she asked.
“I think the proper word is boor,” Jackie said. “He was an absolute boor.”
“Derek?” she said, disbelieving. “Mr. Harvard himself?”
“First of all, he had been drinking,” Alex said. “He wasn’t drunk, but you could smell the whiskey on his breath. After all that Marc had told us about the Islamic prohibition against liquor.”
“He drank for three solid days in his room,” Jackie said in disgust. “He and Marc had a lot of free time, and Derek spent it drinking and sulking.”
“That really surprises me,” Ardith said.
“I think he knows Marc is outpacing him,” Jackie said. “And his overinflated ego finds that hard to accept.”
“But it was more than the drinking. The Saudis are men of the world; I don’t think that would have bothered them.” He took a quick breath. Just talking about it was getting Alex angry all over again. “But he nearly ruined things for us at the reception.”
“My goodness,” Ardith said, looking back and forth between the two of them. “I think I struck a raw nerve in both of you.”
“At least!” Alex retorted, with Jackie nodding vigorously. “Everything we are doing depends on how the Saudis feel about us, okay? Marc had told us again and again that there are things you do and don’t do in carrying on a conversation with the Arabs.”
“It is considered bad manners to discuss religion, politics, or family affairs with strange
rs,” Jackie explained. “It is in especially poor taste to ask about female members of the family. Care to guess how many of those basic rules Derek violated?” Jackie took a deep breath. “Alex finally sent him back to the hotel. He’s been pouting ever since.”
Alex picked it up from there. “Marc cautioned us that patience is one of their fundamental rules of social etiquette. To break off a conversation abruptly, no matter how good the reason, or to interrupt and try to change the subject is very rude. The Saudis view impatience or undue haste in conversation as either a sign of bad manners, or worse for us, a lack of confidence. Three different times, Derek broke into the conversation and tried to steer it onto the contract. Three different times!”
His eyes were smouldering with the memory. “The last time, I was watching the crown prince. That’s when I sent Derek packing.”
“For good?” Ardith asked.
The luggage had started to come onto the carousel now, and Alex turned to watch for their bags. She thought he hadn’t heard her question, but finally, without turning, he shook his head. “Not yet. He’s drawing up the contracts and all of the paper work. He’s too far in to change horses now, but I’ll tell you, the minute this is over, he’s back on his own.”
Ardith fell silent as Alex waved to a porter and started pointing out the pieces of luggage. They followed him out the door to the curb. Ardith handed the porter her keys and explained where the car was parked. As he moved away, Ardith spoke again. “And what about Marc?”
“What about him?”
“Do you send him packing when the deal is all completed?”
He turned slowly. “Ardith, I’ve been bringing in men for fifteen years. Why all of a sudden are you interrogating me on how I deal with them?”
“So you are dumping him?”
“Dumping!” he exploded. “Every man who has worked with me has gone on to better things. Even Derek. He’ll use this experience to find something better for himself.”
“You call it whatever you want, if it makes you feel better, but I want to know if you plan to dump Marc too.”
Jackie was watching Alex and Ardith with some concern. These were the two people she felt closest to in her life. She loved them both deeply, but she had never seen Ardith filled with such quiet determination, and it was striking sparks from Alex.
“And what if I do dump him?” Alex said. “Marc’s resilient. He’ll be fine.”
“It’s not Marc I’m worried about.”
Alex just stared at her.
“You don’t even see it, do you?”
“What?”
“The effect that Marc is having on you.”
“The effect he’s having on me? I’ve brought that boy out of the doldrums. He’s come alive again. He’s having a ball.”
“Yes, I know.”
“Ardith! I can’t believe this is you.”
“Alex, you run the business and I don’t interfere. But I’m telling you, if you throw Marc away, something he has revived in you is going to die once and for all. And that saddens me. More than I can possibly express.”
It had been a warm day in Los Angeles, and though the evening overcast had moved in, the night was still pleasant. As Marc and Valerie got in the Chrysler LeBaron, he turned to her. “Do you mind if we put the top down?”
She looked at him sharply, then shook her head. “No. I brought a sweater if it gets too chilly.”
“Good.” He punched the buttons, got everything secured, and then drove out of the parking terrace. As they drove along Century Boulevard and out of the airport complex, Marc reached for Valerie’s hand and pulled her gently toward him. She came an inch or two, not turning her head.
He laughed softly and pulled again. “I traded in my bucket seats, remember? Come on.”
Reluctantly, Valerie slid closer, and accepted without response the arm he put around her shoulders. The silence continued, hers strained, his amused, until he turned south on the San Diego Freeway instead of north. Her head came up. “Where are you going?”
“I know a little seafood place in Long Beach that has terrific steak and lobster.”
“Marc! It’s almost ten o’clock.”
He grinned. “They stay open late on Fridays.”
“Marc, really. It’s too late.”
“It’s never too late for steak and lobster.”
She took a quick breath, not trying to hide her irritation. It only made him smile more.
“I do have a job now, Marc. I’m really tired tonight.”
“Tomorrow’s Saturday. You can sleep in before we go to the zoo.”
“Marc, please. I’d really rather not.”
“I used to date a girl in high school,” he mused. “Her dad always insisted that I have her home by ten-forty-five. I thought when I passed thirty, all that would change.”
She tried to fight it, but a tiny smile pulled at the corners of her mouth.
“You could tell me that your mother told you to be home early, but knowing your mother, she probably told you not to worry about how late it was.”
Valerie laughed in spite of herself. “That’s almost a direct quote.”
“Then, Val, unless you start to scream, you’re on your way to Long Beach.”
“Marc, I—”
He lifted a finger to her lips and pressed them gently. “Valerie, before you say anything, let me just talk for a few minutes. Okay?”
She looked up at him, searching his face, and he saw the hurt that still lingered in her eyes.
Taking a deep breath, he plunged in. “Look, I know I am incredibly dense, but not so much so that I don’t know what’s bothering you. I saw your face when you looked up and saw Jackie and me coming off the plane together.”
She looked away, not meeting his probing look.
“Jackie is a beautiful, charming, and very capable woman. I told her that at dinner the other night.”
Valerie’s hands were twisting together in her lap. He reached out and covered them with his. “I also told her that while I was deeply flattered that she should be interested in me, there was a computer programmer from Colorado whom I had found to be a totally lovely woman and whom I couldn’t get out of my mind.”
That finally brought her head around.
Marc smiled, somewhat sadly. “I also said that I was making that young woman miserable and that I intended to come home to remedy that situation once and for all.”
He laughed at her expression. “What I didn’t say to Jackie was that I was scared to death one Valerie Robertson wouldn’t give me a second chance to show her I could make some changes in my life.”
Valerie’s eyes were wide, and her lips parted softly. “I’m a sucker for second chances.”
“I’m glad.” He pulled her closer, and this time she came clear over to sit next to him, squeezing his hand tightly. “My dad has a favorite saying. I heard it so many times when I was a kid, I used to resent it. Now…“ He shrugged. “I spent a lot of time thinking about it while I was in Washington.”
“What is it?”
“He says, ‘If your life is out of order, it’s because your priorities are out of order.’”
She nodded, looking up in time to see the line along his jaw tighten.
“There are several things in my life out of order right now.”
“Such as?”
“Such as making you the pinewood derby mechanic.”
She saw the shame in his eyes, and sudden tears welled up in her own as she realized how much this man meant to her and how really good he was deep inside. She laid her head on his shoulder, not trusting herself to speak.
“Such as making other people take my boys to the movies. Such as working nearly every night and every Saturday for the last two months.” There was a long pause. “Such as starting to think that the deal is everything.”
“So what do you do about it?”
“Put the priorities back in order.”
About twenty miles north, six men were sitting
around the living room of Moshe Gondor’s apartment. Yitzhak and Yossi had just arrived from the airport. Nathan sat in an easy chair across from Gondor. Yehuda Gor sat crosslegged on the floor, drumming his fingers silently on the carpet. Yaacov Shoshani was in a straight-backed chair facing the others, as though he were the witness facing a hostile jury. The air was heavy with cigarette smoke and tension.
Gondor was shaking his head angrily. “Mr. Shoshani, by now I know the whole lecture by heart, okay? What we are facing here is not a theological problem. We have a sale of sixty of the most advanced fighter planes in the world—with a dramatic new advancement in radar technology—to a country that daily reiterates its undying hatred for what we are and what we stand for. And frankly, your talk of spiritual Zionism and returning to the traditional values of Torah and the law of Moses don’t make much of a dent in that fact.”
When Yaacov spoke, his voice was tinged with deep sadness. “And so you, and so many others like you, press ahead, trying to save the state of Israel while you ignore the very God who made the state of Israel a reality.”
“Be that as it may,” Gondor said slowly and evenly, “I am in charge of this operation and you are not. To talk to Barclay would do nothing more than reveal our hand in all this. I forbid it.”
“Barclay is a man of the world,” Yaacov agreed. “Where Gerritt gets his money and how will mean little to him. But Jeppson—he is a man of honor, a man of integrity. If he knew what Gerritt has done, he would persuade Barclay to cancel the deal. I know it.”
“Papa,” Nathan said patiently, “we know that Barclay has already spent nearly a million dollars setting this up. He will not turn his back on that.”
“True. But tell Jeppson about the drug shipments, tell him what they did to Taggart and his family in order to get the radar device, show him the pictures taken by the customs agents on his airplane, and he will either get Barclay to break off the deal with Gerritt or he will quit. I know it!”
Yehuda spoke up. “Jeppson is playing an increasingly important role in the negotiations, but he is not pivotal. If he quits, it is only a setback, not a victory.”
“That’s right. Jeppson is not pivotal, not by himself. But let me also tell him what we know about Derek Parkin. I’ll play him the tape of his conversation with Gerritt in Washington. Barclay will have to fire Parkin.”