A God in Ruins - Leon Uris [103]
“A United States senator. Big in appropriations, major patriot in the red, white, and blue department. A real Yankee doodle dandy. Half his state owes him favors. He told Customs in Superior that it was a load of urgently needed Swedish farm machinery.”
“Good Lord,” Quinn whispered. “You’re talking about Senator J. Richard Darling!”
“Bingo,” Arne Skye said, “Dicky Darling.”
DENVER AND THE ALAMO, MARYLAND—
A WEEK BEFORE THE AMERIGUN
CONVENTION
“Good afternoon, Governor’s office, Marsha speaking.”
An officious throat clearing. “This is King Porter calling from Maryland. May I speak with the governor?”
“Hold, please,” Marsha said, going to the intercom. “Governor, King Porter is on the line.”
Quinn was struck by the sudden call. “Put him on,” he said unevenly.
“Governor?”
“Yes, sir.”
“King Porter here.”
“What can I do for you?” Quinn asked.
“Well, Governor, I thought it would be neighborly for me to contact you. We have our differences, of course, but AMERIGUN is going to spend several days in your beautiful state, and I’d like to think, as Americans, we can call a truce during our visit. I may add, we are expecting over ten thousand delegates, you know, plus the exhibitors.”
“You will be greeted with open arms, Mr. Porter.”
“King, call me King. We have a very active membership—”
“No problem. Denver knows how to throw a party.”
“Yes, well, we certainly do not favor or anticipate any problems.”
“And we shall do our utmost to make you welcome.”
“Governor, I wonder if I can beg a favor from you. It seems like Denver’s mayor will be out of the country. Could I impose upon you to welcome the delegates?”
“Where and when, King?”
“We officially take over the Convention Center on the morning of the eleventh. The balance of that day goes to registering delegates and helping get the exhibitions set up. The welcoming ceremony takes place at six in the evening.”
Quinn jotted a note and passed it to Marsha, who had entered the office.
“We’ve got a date, King. Looking forward to meeting you.”
Quinn banged his fist on the desk and snarled.
“Well, he did hold out the olive branch,” Marsha said.
“You know where he wants to shove it. That slimy little son of a bitch! He’s dragging me up there like…”
“Ancient Hebrews being marched through Rome in chains,” Marsha said.
“Something like that.”
“Don’t worry, Governor, you’ll be a big hit. Dr. Mock dropped in and wants a few minutes with you. She’s waiting.”
“Have her come in, and hold everything.”
“I need good news, Dawn,” Quinn greeted her.
“You remember that big wheel of cheese you ordered from Wisconsin?”
“It never came.”
“It’s on the way,” Dawn said. “We’re all hooked in. I can monitor its progress from my office.”
Quinn cupped her hands in his, sighed, prayed, and kissed her fingertips.
“She’s on interstate ninety heading west, about to cross into Minnesota, beep, beep, beeping merrily along her way.”
Chapter 27
WELCOME TO COLORADO!
AMERIGUN SILVER ANNIVERSARY CONVENTION—DENVER
SEPTEMBER 13–17, 2003
“Hee-Haw!”
It looked as though the late shows at Branson, Missouri, had emptied onto the interstate and all headed straight for Denver.
In Denver the bars had spare kegs piled up in their alleys, the hookers staked out their saloons, the gangs protected their drug turfs. Fun in the Rockies!
A lot of wholesome family events on the menu. Three thousand utterly priceless tickets would be raffled for a game between the Broncos and the dreamworksKANGAROOS, the latest Los Angeles expansion team at ELWAY Stadium. Out in the mountains the billion or so aspen trees began their dance of gold. A thousand basketball tickets for the mcdonaldsNUGGETS had few takers.
WELCOME AMERIGUN DELEGATES
“Hee-Haw!”
The autumn air was crisp and gentle. Glorious deep breaths ensued.
Rae O’Connell watched her brother, Duncan, amble over the parking lot toward the entrance.
Lordy, what a cowboy stud, she thought, a good thing we were all raised with morals.
“Hi! Over here, Duncan!”
They hugged. “I’ve got tickets,” she said.
“What time is Dad speaking?” Duncan