Patriot games - Tom Clancy [35]
"I read that this morning. It was as much a surprise to me as it was to anyone else." Ryan smiled. "Somebody made a mistake. I'm not good-looking enough to be a spy."
"So you deny that report?" asked the Daily Mirror.
"Correct. It's just not true. I teach history at the Naval Academy, in Annapolis. That ought to be easy enough to check out. I just gave an exam last week. You can ask my students." Jack waved his left hand at the camera again.
"The report comes from some highly placed sources," observed the Post.
"If you read a little history, you'll see that highly placed folks have been known to make mistakes. I think that's what happened here. I teach. I write books. I lecture-okay, I did give a lecture at CIA once, but that was just a repeat of one I delivered at the Naval War College and one other symposium. It wasn't even classified. Maybe that's where the report comes from. Like I said, check it out. My office is in Leahy Hall, at the Naval Academy. I think somebody just goofed." Somebody goofed, all right. "I can get you guys a copy of the lecture. It's no big deal."
"How do you like being a public figure, now?" one of the Brit TV people asked.
Thanks for changing the subject. "I think I can live without it. I'm not a movie star, either-again, not good-looking enough."
"You're far too modest. Doctor Ryan," a female reporter observed.
"Please be careful how you say that. My wife will probably see this." There was general laughter. "I suppose I'm good-looking enough for her. That's enough. With all due respect, ladies and gentlemen, I'll be perfectly glad to descend back into obscurity."
"Do you think that likely?"
"That depends on how lucky I am, ma'am. And on whether you folks will let me."
"What do you think we should do with the terrorist, Sean Miller?" the Times asked.
"That's for a judge and jury to decide. You don't need me for that."
"Do you think we should have capital punishment?"
"We have it where I live. For your country, that is a question for your elected representatives. We both live in democracies, don't we? The people you elect are supposed to do what the voters ask them to do." Not that it always works that way, but that's the theory
"So you support the idea?" the Times persisted.
"In appropriate cases, subject to strict judicial review, yes. Now you're going to ask me about this case, right? It's a moot point. Anyway, I'm no expert on criminal justice. My dad was a cop but I'm just a historian."
"And what of your perspective, as an Irish-American, on the Troubles?" the Telegraph wanted to know.
"We have enough problems of our own in America without having to borrow yours."
"So you say we should solve it, then?"
"What do you think? Isn't that what problems are for?"
"Surely you have a suggestion. Most Americans do."
"I think I teach history. I'll let other people make it. It's like being a reporter." Ryan smiled. "I get to criticize people long after they make their decisions. That doesn't mean I know what to do today."
"But you knew what to do on Tuesday," the Times pointed out. Ryan shrugged.
"Yeah, I guess I did," Ryan said on the television screen.
"You clever bastard," Kevin Joseph O'Donnell muttered into a glass of dark Guinness beer. His base of operations was much farther from the border than any might have suspected. Ireland is a small country, and distances are but relative things-particularly to those with all the resources they need. His former colleagues in the PIRA had extensive safehouses along the border, convenient to a quick trip across from either direction. Not for O'Donnell. There were numerous practical reasons. The Brits had their informers and intelligence people there, always creeping about-and the SAS raiders, who were not averse to a quick snatch-or a quiet kill-of persons who had made the mistake of becoming too well known. The border could be a convenience to either side. A more serious threat was the PIRA itself, which also watched the border closely. His face, altered as it was with some minor