Games of State - Tom Clancy [142]
"Did you ever see Kenneth Branagh in Henry V?"
One second. The blood boiled off. Jody's hands shot toward Herbert's wrist.
"Remember what he told his soldiers?"
Two seconds. The flesh began to sear. Jody's teeth sliced through the meat of his palm.
"Henry said that one day they'd point to their scars and tell their kids that they were tough cookies."
Three seconds. The wound sizzled. Jody's strength seemed to evaporate. Her eyes rolled up.
"That's you," Herbert said. "Except you'll probably have plastic surgery."
Four seconds. The edges of the wound knit together under the heat. Jody's hands fell back.
"No one will ever believe you were shot. That you fought with King Bob Herbert on St. Crispin's Day."
Five seconds. He pulled at the matches. They broke from the burned flesh with a slight tug. He dropped the book, then brushed away the embers which still clung to her skin. It was a small, ugly job, but at least the wound was closed.
He removed his hand from her teeth. His palm was bleeding.
"Now we'll both have scars to show off," he grumbled as he reached for the passenger's side door. "Think you'll be able to walk now?"
Jody looked at him. She was sweating and her perspiration glistened in the car light.
"I'll make it," she said. She didn't look at the wound as she pulled her blouse over it. "Did I hurt your hand?"
"Unless you have rabies I'll be fine." He opened the door. "Now if you'll help me with the chair we can get the hell out of here."
Jody moved slowly, tentatively as she came around the car. She was more confident with each step and seemed her old self by the time she reached him. She struggled slightly to get the chair out, then held it open for him.
Pressing his hands on the car seat, he hopped in.
"Let's go," he said. "Due east. To the left."
"That's not the way I came," she said.
"I know," Herbert replied. "Just do it."
She started pushing. The chair seemed to snag on every exposed root and fallen branch. Far behind them, in an otherwise still and silent night, they heard crunching.
"We're never going to make it," Jody said.
"We are," Herbert said, "as long as you keep going in this direction.
Jody leaned into the chair and they moved slowly through the dark. And as they did, Herbert told the young woman one thing more he needed her to do.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
Thursday, 9:56 P.M.,
Toulouse, France
Leaving the vans behind, Ballon, Hood, Stoll, Hausen, and Nancy crossed the Tarn by foot across the high-arched brick bridge. Streetlights placed every twenty yards or so provided enough light for them to see-- and, Hood knew, enough light for them to be seen.
Not that that mattered. Dominique would have assumed he was being watched in any case. Their approach would probably not cause him to take any extra precautions.
Upon reaching the former bastide, the group stopped. They sat beside a thicket on the narrow stretch of grass which sloped toward the river.
Muttering the entire time, Stoll entrusted his computer to Nancy while he unpacked the T-Bird.
"You're sure we're not doing anything illegal," Stoll said. "I'm not going to end up starring in Midnight Express II and getting caned."
"We don't do that in France," Ballon said. "And this is not illegal."
"I should've read the warrant on the plane," Stoll said. "Except I don't read French, so what difference would it've made?"
The computer scientist hooked the shoebox-like device to the fax-machine-sized imager. He pointed the front at the building and used a button on the imager to activate the laser line scanner. This scanner would clean up the image, removing blur caused by air particles which scattered the light.
Stoll said, "Colonel, you got any idea how thick those walls are?"
"Half afoot in most places."
"Then we should be okay," Stoll said as he squatted and switched on the terahertz generator. Less than ten seconds later the device beeped. "But we'll know now for sure in half a minute."
Still squatting, Stoll leaned over and