The Detachment - Barry Eisler [136]
If it was a threat, it was a subtle one. I said, “Why do you keep saying your assets are increasing? What does that mean?”
“Yes, that was the second thing I wanted to mention. In the coming days, as news of the false flag, oligarchy-inspired nature of recent events leaks out into the establishment media, you will read a variety of very flattering pieces about me. About my courage and insight and integrity. Did Treven brief you on our conversation about a blue ribbon commission?”
“Yes.”
“Well, the commission is already in motion. With the brand I have begun to establish and am having the media help further, and as head of the commission, I will be a very powerful force for good in this country.”
I didn’t answer. I was thinking, you can still be gotten to.
He laughed. “I know what you’re thinking. And you’re right. So let me just ask you this. Give me a year. I expect it’ll take me that long to make sure things are running smoothly. If you don’t like what I’m doing, you can always come after me sooner. But if you do approve of my purpose and my performance, and you do want to extract some measure of good from the recent horrific events of which, whether you like it or not, you have been a part, then you will let me finish my work. After that, I plan to retire. I have a place in Virginia. Very quiet and secluded. I like to sit alone out there on the porch in the evening, enjoying a whisky and sometimes a cigar. I imagine I will live there quietly, alone with the agony of my hellish culpability. Until someone decides to relieve my agony with a bullet.”
“Yes,” I said, after a moment. “Until then.”
We all split up after that, saying our farewells under an indifferent blue sky outside the Des Moines Greyhound station. But for the sounds of traffic from the nearby highway, the area was quiet, even somnolent. No one was around to notice us amid the cracked pavement and boarded-up brick buildings, the weeds creeping up over the curbstones, the trees swaying in the slight breeze, their leaves on the verge of autumn.
Kanezaki had a lot of explaining to do at headquarters, but I imagined he would not only survive it, but turn it to his advantage. He was becoming increasingly formidable, and I couldn’t help feeling some pride in his development. He’d acquitted himself well at the granary, and, for all I knew, his determination had saved my life. Certainly it had saved me the unpleasant task of rushing the guy behind the truck. I told him how well he’d done, and asked him how he was feeling.
“A little bit…shocked,” he said. “Numb. I wasn’t really thinking. I didn’t know what happened at first. I got knocked down, and then I got up, and I just…shot him.”
I smiled. “They say you can’t keep a good man down.”
He looked a little sheepish. “I don’t know how to feel about it.”
“Different people feel different ways. In a few days, you might find yourself upset. You might not feel anything at all, other than satisfaction and relief that you put him away before he did you. Either way, if you want to talk to someone who knows a little about these things, get in touch, okay?”
He nodded. “Thanks for that.”
“And pass along my thanks to your sister for getting us out of the hotel in D.C. She was really something.”
“I will,” he said. “She asked after you, by the way. She’s settled down since we were kids, and I think she’s happy, but I guess deep inside, she’s still got a thing for bad boys.”
I laughed. “What’s her story, anyway?”
He blew out a breath. “That’s a long one. I’ll tell you another time.”
The way he said goodbye, making sure everyone knew how to contact him, I knew what he was thinking. He had himself a clandestine collection of ice-cold killers. With that, plus his intelligence reach, who knew how much he could accomplish?
I thought about disabusing him. But then I thought about how many ops he’d dragged me into over the years, and decided it was foolish to tempt fate.
Dox went to his place