Patriot games - Tom Clancy [199]
"I've been thinking about that." Alex took a moment before going on. "How do armies succeed?"
"What do you mean?" Miller asked.
"I mean, the great plans, the ones that really work. They all work because you show the other guy something he expects to see, right? You make him go for the fake, but it's gotta be a really good fake. We have to make them look for the wrong thing in the wrong place, and they have to put the word out."
"And how do we do that?" After two minutes: "Ah."
Alex retired to his bedroom a few minutes later, leaving Miller in front of the television to go over his material. On the whole, it had been a very useful trip. The plan was already beginning to take shape. It would require a lot of people, but that came as no surprise.
Curiously, his respect for Alex was now diminished. The man was competent, certainly, even brilliant in his plan for a diversion-but that absurd sentimentality! It was not that Miller reveled in the idea of hurting children, but if that was what the revolution took, then it was a necessary price to pay. Besides, it got people's attention. It told them that he and his organization were serious. Until Alex got over that, he'd never be successful. But that wasn't Miller's problem. Part One of the operation was now outlined in his mind. Part Two was already drawn up, already had been aborted once. But not this time. Miller promised himself.
By noon the following day, Alex had handed him the photos and driven him to an outlying station of the D.C. Metro. Miller took the subway train to National Airport to catch the first of four flights that would take him home.
Jack walked into Sally's bedroom just before eleven. The dog-his daughter had named him Ernie-was an invisible shape in the corner. This was one of the smartest things he had ever done. Sally was too much in love with Ernie to dwell on her injuries, and she chased after him as fast as her weakened legs would allow. That was enough to make her father overlook the chewed shoes and occasional mistakes with which the dog was littering the house. In a few weeks she'd be back to normal. Jack adjusted the covers slightly before leaving. Cathy was already in bed when he got there.
"Is she okay?"
"Sleeping like an angel," Jack replied as he slid in beside her.
"And Ernie?"
"He's in there somewhere. I could hear his tail hitting the wall." He wrapped his arms around her. It was hard getting close to her now. He ran one hand down to her abdomen, feeling the shape of his unborn child. "How's the next one?"
"Quiet, finally. God, he's an active one. Don't wake him up."
It struck Jack as an absurd idea that babies were awake before they were born, but you couldn't argue with a doctor. "He?"
"That's what Madge says."
"What's she say about you?" He felt her ribs next. They were too prominent. His wife had always been slender, but this was too much.
"I'm gaining the weight back," Cathy answered. "You don't have to worry. Everything's fine."
"Good." He kissed her.
"Is that all I get?" he heard from the darkness.
"You think you can handle more?"
"Jack, I don't have to go to work tomorrow," she pointed out.
"But some of us do," he protested, but soon found that his heart wasn't in it.
* * *
21
Plans
e is thorough," O'Donnell observed. Miller had returned with the aerial photographs that Dobbens had copied, topographic maps, and photos of Ryan's home from the land and water sides. Added to these were typed notes of the observations made by his people and other data thought to be of interest.
"Unfortunately he allows his personal feelings to interfere with his activities," Miller observed coolly.
"And you don't, Sean?" O'Donnell chided gently.
"It won't happen again," his operations officer promised.
"That's good. The important thing about mistakes is that we learn from them. So let's go over your proposed operation."
Sean took out two other maps and spent twenty minutes running through his ideas. He