State of Siege - Tom Clancy [32]
That used to be Mike Rodgers, he reflected sadly. He'd lost more than some flesh and his freedom in Lebanon. Being strung up in a cave and burned with a blowtorch had cost him his confidence. And not because he'd been afraid to die. He believed passionately in the Viking code, that the process of death began with the moment of birth, and that death in combat was the most honorable way of reaching one's inevitable end. But he was nearly denied that. Extreme pain, like a high fever, robs the mind of orderliness. The calm and collected torturer becomes the voice of reason and tells the mind where to touch down. And Rodgers was perilously close to that point, to telling the terrorists how to operate the Regional Op-Center they'd captured.
That's why Rodgers needed Gary Cooper. Not to heal his soul-he didn't think that was possible. He'd seen his breaking point, and he could never lose that knowledge, that awareness of his own limitations. It reminded him of the first time. he twisted his ankle playing basketball and it didn't heal overnight. The sense of invulnerability was gone forever. A broken spirit was worse.
What Mike Rodgers needed now was to try to prop up the confidence his captors had taken from him. Fortify himself enough to run Op-Center until the president decided on a replacement for Paul Hood. Then he could make decisions about his own future. Rodgers looked back at the TV screen. Movies had always been a haven for him, a source of nourishment. When his alcoholic father used to punch the bell out of him-not just hit but punch, with his Yale class ring young Mike Rodgers would get on his bicycle, go to the local movie theater, pay his twenty-five cents, and crawl into a Western or war film or historical epic. Over the years, he modeled his morality, his life, his career after the characters played by John Wayne and Charlton Heston and Burt Lancaster. He couldn't remember a time when any of them came close to breaking under torture, though. He felt very alone. Coop had just rescued a Mexican girl who was being abused by renegade soldiers when the cordless phone rang. Rodgers picked it up.
"Hello?"
"Mike, thank God you're in-was "Paul?"
"Yeah. Listen," Hood said. "I'm inside the United Nations Correspondents' room across from the Security Council chambers. Four guards have just been gunned down in the corridor."
Rodgers sat up. "By whom?"
"I don't know," Hood said. "But it looks like the people who did it went inside."
"Where's Harleigh?" Rodgers asked.
"She's in there," Hood said. "Most of the members of the Security Council and the entire string ensemble were in the chambers." Rodgers grabbed the remote, switched off the DVD, and turned on CNN. Reporters were live at the United Nations. It didn't sound as if they knew much about what was going on. "Mike, you know what the security setup is here," Hood said. "If this is a multinational hostage situation, depending on who the perpetrators are, the UN could argue about jurisdiction for hours before they even address the issue of getting the people out." "Understood," Rodgers said. "I'll call Bob and put him on this. Are you on your cell phone?"
"Yes."
"Keep me apprised when you can," Rodgers said. "All right," Hood replied. "Mike-was
"Paul, we're going to take care of this," Rodgers assured him. "You know there's usually some kind of cooling-down period immediately after a takeover. Demands stated, attempts to negotiate. We won't waste any of that time. You and Sharon just have to try and stay calm."
Hood thanked him and hung up. Rodgers turned up the volume on the TV, listening as he rose slowly. The newscaster had no idea who had driven the van or why they'd attacked the United Nations. There had been no official announcement, and no communication from the five people who'd apparently gone into the Security Council chambers.
Rodgers shut off