Games of State - Tom Clancy [146]
Nancy had walked over while he was speaking. She knelt behind him and gently put her hands on his shoulders. "I'll help you, Matt," she said. "I'm pretty good at these."
Hood regarded them for a moment. The way she'd touched Matt made him jealous. The way her hands floated down and came to rest like falling flower petals filled him with longing. And the way he was feeling filled him with disgust.
Then, with perfect timing, Nancy turned slowly and looked at Hood. She moved slowly enough so that he could have looked away if he'd wanted. But he didn't. Their eyes hooked and he tumbled right into them.
It took the thought of Hausen to snap Hood from Nancy's spell. His unfinished business with the German was more pressing.
"Herr Hausen," Hood said, "I'd like to talk to you."
Hausen looked at Hood expectantly, almost eagerly. "Of course," he said. The German was obviously excited by what was happening, but for which side?
Hood put his hand on the German's shoulder and led him toward the river. Ballon followed several steps behind. But that was all right: this involved him too.
"That call I just had," Hood said. "It was from Op-Center. There's no delicate way to ask this, so I'll ask it directly. Why didn't you tell us your father worked for Dupre?"
Hausen stopped walking. "How do you know that?"
"I had my people look into German tax records. He worked as a pilot for Pierre Dupre from 1966 to 1979."
Hausen waited a long time before answering. "It's true," he said. "And it was one of the things Gerard and I argued about that night in Paris. My father taught him how to fly, treated him like a son, helped teach him to hate."
Ballon stopped beside the men. His face was just inches from Hausen.
"Your father worked for this monster?" the Colonel said. "Where is your father now?"
"He died two years ago," Hansen said.
"There's more, though," Hood said. "Tell us about your father's political affiliations."
Hausen took a long breath. "They were corrupt," he said. "He was one of the White Wolves, a group which kept Nazi ideals alive after the war. He met with other men regularly. He " Hausen stopped.
"He what?" demanded Ballon.
Hausen composed himself. "He believed in Hitler and the goals of the Reich. He viewed the end of the war as a setback, not a defeat, and continued it in his own way. When I was eleven"-- he breathed deeply again before continuing-- "my father and two of his friends were coming home from the movies when they attacked a rabbi's son on his way home from synagogue. Afterwards, my mother sent me to boarding school in Berlin. I didn't see my father until years later, after Gerard befriended me at the Sorbonne."
"Are you trying to tell me that Gerard went to the Sorbonne just to become your friend and bring you back?" Hood asked.
"You must understand," Hausen said, "I was a force to be reckoned with from an early age. What my father had done revolted me. I can still hear him calling me to join them, as though it were a carnival sideshow I mustn't miss. I can hear the young man's moans, his attackers's blows, the way their shoes scraped against the pavement as they moved around him. It was disgusting. My mother loved my father and sent me away that night to keep us from destroying one another. I went to live with a cousin in Berlin.
"While I was in Berlin I formed an anti-Nazi group. I had my own radio program when I was sixteen and police protection a month later. One of the reasons I left the country to go to school was to get away from the death threats. I was never insincere about my convictions." He glared at Ballon. "Never, do you understand?"
"What about Gerard?" Hood asked.
"It isn't much different from what I told you earlier," Hausen said. "Gerard was a rich, spoiled young man who learned about me from my father. He viewed me as a challenge, I think. The White