Games of State - Tom Clancy [29]
The anger began to leave his eyes as he looked at the dark shape of the guillotine. Like Danton, who began his crusade against the monarchy as a moderate man, Dominique would become increasingly more severe. Otherwise, his allies and enemies both would perceive him as weak.
It would be a delicate thing, making sure that Richter was disciplined without driving him away. But as Danton had said in a speech to the Legislative Committee of General Defense in 1792, "Boldness, and again boldness, and always boldness!" The boldness of the guillotine, the boldness of conviction. Then as now, that was what people required to win a revolution.
And he would win this. Then he would settle an old debt. Not with Richter but with another German. One who had betrayed him on that long-ago night. The man who had put everything in motion.
He would destroy Richard Hausen.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Thursday, 11:55 A.M.,
Wunstorf, Germany
It was the bathroom fire alarm which stopped Jody from screaming.
Wisps of smoke seeping through the vent had triggered the alarm. The high whine pierced her panic and, brought her back to the moment, to the situation at hand. She breathed in, calmed herself, then exhaled.
They're trying to blow the trailer up, she told herself.
As when she faced the gun, Jody knew that every second-- any second-- could be her last. Quickly, she went to the window and pushed her hand through the metal bars. She threw the latch with her fingertips, put her palms to the frosted glass, and pushed up. She pressed her face to the bars and watched the twisted length of cloth as it burned. It wasn't stuffed into the gas tank. It was just lying there, air flowing around it, providing the catalyst for the fire. She pushed her arm out the window, tried to reach the wick. She fell over a foot short.
"God, no!"
She threw herself back from the bars, pushed her hair from her eyes, and looked around. There had to be something she could use to reach it. Sink. Toilet. Nothing.
The Sink- She thought of dousing the fire, but there was nothing in the bathroom to use as a bucket or ladle.
"Think!" she screamed.
She turned around slowly. She saw the shower, but there were no bath towels. She tried to pull the towel bar off the back of the stall, couldn't, then noticed the showerhead. It was attached to a hose.
Quickly turning on the water, she yanked the head from the hook and pulled it toward the window. It didn't reach, short by inches.
The flame had nearly covered the mouth of the gas tank when, snarling with frustration, Jody dropped the showerhead and grabbed the hand towel. She pushed it in the toilet, then ran back to the window. Extending her hand, she swung the wet towel up and let it fall. She heard a hiss, then put her face to the window.
The upper portion of the flame had bin extinguished. Part of the underside was still burning.
There was only the one towel, and it was gone now. Quickly pulling off her blouse, Jody plunged it into the toilet. This time, however, she slapped it as hard as she could against the side of the trailer. She didn't drop it, but let the water trickle down the wall. Then she pulled in the blouse, wet it again, and slammed it even harder against the trailer. The water ran down in a solid sheet, dousing the last of the flame and sending up a thin wall of smoke. It was the sweetest smell Jody had ever tasted.
"Screw you!" Jody shouted at the image of the woman in her mind. "I don't like killing women," she said. "Well you didn't, bitch! You didn't get me!"
Jody pulled in her arm and put on the wet shirt. It was cold and felt good. She looked at the door.
"You're next," she said with fresh-earned confidence.
There was time, now, to work the towel bar from the shower stall. Putting her back against the front wall she kicked the bar free. Then she went to the bathroom door and put her shoulder to it. She opened it just enough to get the bar through, then used it as a lever. The door moved slowly, as