A God in Ruins - Leon Uris [176]
“Phase One, alert FBI; Bureau of Alcohol, Firearms, and Tobacco; U.S. Marshal Service; establish local communications to Washington headquarters.”
Lucas buzzed down the page with his finger, omitting the details.
“Okay, here we go,” he read. “This is also part of Phase One: Contact our moles, informers, spies in suspected groups. This is key to Phase One…namely, ascertain from our infiltrators if their cell, group, Klavern, et cetera, have preselected bombing targets or persons to be assassinated. Name and address of cell leaders.”
“How many moles have we planted?” the President asked.
“A couple a hundred,” Lucas answered.” Of these, two or three dozen have totally infiltrated and are reliable. The rest from luke cold to luke warm.”
Thornton waved for Lucas de Forest to continue.
“Mr. President, let’s take a look at this Phase One. If we can have our people at the controls and if we can stop three or four bombings, it is going to disrupt their attack.”
“I disagree,” Thornton said. “If we initiate this first call-up only on the suspicion of what might happen, then the people will think we are trigger happy, overplaying our hand and the like.”
“But the call-up is secret,” de Forest argued.
“Hell,” Hugh Mendenhall popped in. “Five minutes after you initiated Phase One the press would know it.”
“You see, we’ve branded O’Connell, with some success, as being the reckless gunfighter,” Thornton said.
“But, sir,” de Forest persisted, “if we hesitate in putting Phase One into motion, it could entirely lose its effectiveness. The idea behind Joy Streets is to beat them to the punch.”
“Keep reading please, Mr. Director,” Tomtree ordered.
“Phase Two, deputize all urban police forces and county sheriffs to round up and detain suspects. Phase Three, call up the National Guard in threatened locales. National Guards to maintain a peacekeeping posture.”
“It’s starting to sound like the Keystone Kops,” the President said.
“How, sir? Once we have a list of priority people and buildings to defend and have the National Guard on the street and we have rounded up their leadership, we’ll snuff it by the middle of the day, tomorrow.”
“Let’s hear the rest of this plan,” Thornton said, knowing he’d made up his mind.
“The rest of the phases deal with a full-court press on the streets—curfews, ultimatums, finally call up the Army and Marines for martial law.”
“Bad news,” Mendenhall interrupted. “Jewish community center in Los Angeles was just bombed.”
“We can’t count this as a trend,” Jacob Turnquist grunted academically. “Just sporadic incidents.”
“If we do not put Phase One into motion, we’ll be playing in a game we can’t win. If we allow fires to erupt, the fires will consume everything until they burn themselves out,” de Forest warned.
“And I say that jumping the gun sends a bad signal to the American people. It might be all over with by dawn,” said Tomtree.
“I wouldn’t count on that,” de Forest said. “This is a matter of public safety, sir…”
“Mendenhall.”
“Sir.”
“Run off a copy of this Joy Streets for my personal use. You’ve got to know when to hold and know when to fold. What else have you got there, Mr. Director?”
“Release form, Mr. President. An executive order to be signed by you to put Joy Streets into motion.”
“Just leave it here. Thank you, gentlemen,” Thornton said, nodding to each. “Mr. Jefferson, remain, please.”
The three left, consumed with apprehension. Hugh Mendenhall ran Joy Streets through a copier. A note was handed to Director Lucas de Forest.
“Shit. Synagogue torched in Baltimore.” He glared at Mendenhall, who threw up his arms.
“I don’t know why,” Hugh said defensively. “The chief plays a mean poker hand.”
Thornton unlaced his shoes and rubbed his feet. He’d never seen Darnell Jefferson suddenly become so haggard. “I think we’re on the right track, Darnell, but you looked like you were ready to explode.”
“Because,” Darnell said hoarsely, “I know something that I didn’t know before.”
“What would that be?”
“I really don’t think you can comprehend what I’ve got to say, Thornton.”
“It’s too late