Patriot games - Tom Clancy [30]
Ashley thought about that one. There was always the chance that he'd be kidnapped, but The strange thing about the PIRA was that they did have a code of conduct. Within their own definitions, they were honorable. They assassinated their targets without remorse, but they wouldn't deal in drugs. Their bombs would kill children, but they'd never kidnapped one. Ashley shook his head.
"No, people from the Service have met with them before and there's never been a problem. I'll go alone." He turned for the door.
"Daddy!" Sally ran into the room and stopped cold at the side of the bed as she tried to figure a way to climb high enough to kiss her father. She grabbed the side rails and set one foot on the bedframe as if it were the monkey bars at her nursery school and sprang upward. Her diminutive frame bent over the edge of the mattress as she scrambled for a new foothold, and Ryan pulled her up.
"Hi, Daddy." Sally kissed him on the cheek.
"And how are you today?"
"Fine. What's that, Daddy?" She pointed.
"It's called a cast," Cathy Ryan answered. "I thought you had to go to the bathroom."
"Okay." Sally jumped back off the bed.
"I think it's in there," Jack said. "But I'm not sure."
"I thought so," Cathy said after surveying Jack's attachment to the bed. "Okay, come on. Sally."
A man had entered behind his family, Ryan saw. Late twenties, very athletic, and nicely dressed, of course. He was also rather good- looking, Jack reflected.
"Good afternoon, Doctor Ryan," he said. "I'm William Greville."
Jack made a guess. "What regiment?"
"Twenty-second, sir."
"Special Air Service?" Greville nodded, a proud but restrained smile on his lips.
"When you care enough to send the very best," Jack muttered. "Just you?"
"And a driver, Sergeant Michaelson, a policeman from the Diplomatic Protection Group."
"Why you and not another cop?"
"I understand your wife wishes to see a bit of the countryside. My father is something of an authority on various castles, and Her Majesty thought that your wife might wish to have an, ah, escort familiar with the sights. Father has dragged me through nearly every old house in England, you see."
"Escort" is the right word, Ryan thought, remembering what the "Special Air Service" really was. The only association they had with airplanes was jumping out of them-or blowing them up.
Greville went on. "I am also directed by my colonel to extend an invitation to our regimental mess."
Ryan gestured at his suspended arm. "Thanks, but that might have to wait a while."
"We understand. No matter, sir. Whenever you have the chance, we'll be delighted to have you in for dinner. We wanted to extend the invitation before the bootnecks, you see." Greville grinned. "What you did was more our sort of op, after all. Well, I had to extend the invitation. You want to see your family, not me."
"Take good care of them Lieutenant?"
"Captain," Greville corrected. "We will do that, sir." Ryan watched the young officer leave as Cathy and Sally emerged from the bathroom.
"What do you think of him?" Cathy asked.
"His daddy's a count. Daddy!" Sally announced. "He's nice."
"What?"
"His father's Viscount-something-or-other," his wife explained as she walked over. "You look a lot better."
"So do you, babe." Jack craned his neck up to meet his wife's kiss.
"Jack, you've been smoking." Even before they'd gotten married, Cathy had bullied him into stopping.
Her damned sense of smell, Jack thought. "Be nice, I've had a hard day."
"Wimp!" she observed disgustedly.
Ryan looked up at the ceiling. To the whole world I'm a hero, but I smoke a couple of cigarettes and to Cathy that makes me a wimp. He concluded that the world was not exactly overrun with justice.
"Gimme a break, babe."
"Where'd you get them?"
"I have a cop baby-sitting me in here-he had to go someplace a few minutes ago."
Cathy looked around for the offending cigarette pack so that she could squash it. Jack had it stashed under his pillow. Cathy Ryan sat down. Sally climbed into