Chapters (58)
- Cover Page
- Title Page
- Dedication
- Acknowledgments
- Half Title
- Dramatis Personae
- Part One
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Part Two
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Part Three
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Part Four
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- Chapter 43
- Epilogue
- Footnotes
- Preview
- Copyright
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“It just seems to me,” said Spruance, “that you’d want to avoid it by all means. The things I’ve heard, a whole city destroyed by a bomb in a bag, millions killed by germ war, planes flying into high-rise buildings and football stadiums. It makes me wonder what we’re doing here, if that’s the only future.”
“It’s not the only future,” said Halabi. “Little girls still go to ballet practice. Little boys want to be firemen. Families get together at Christmas and Thanksgiving. Life goes on. Just like here. If you have children or grandkids, you’re willing to die for them. And to kill for them, too. Well, we are your children. We appreciate what you did. It’s just too bad that our turn came around, too.”
“You agree with that?” Black asked Duffy and Natoli.
“Pretty much so.” Duffy shrugged.
“It’s so bleak,” said Dan Black.
“It’s fine. We’d still all rather be there. It’s home.”
“You’d rather live in a place where your whole city could be blown up by one madman.”
“It’s home,” she repeated. “It’s really no worse than here.”
“It’s better, in some ways,” said Natoli.
Spruance looked across the table to Karen Halabi. She just held his gaze and nodded.
Chapter 35
35
AMBASSADOR HOTEL, LOS ANGELES, 10 JUNE 1942
The Ambassador Hotel was set within nearly twenty-five acres of manicured lawns. After lunch, Kolhammer and Einstein sat on a bench under a palm tree in the gardens while Agent Flint lurked nearby. Kolhammer was impressed. He’d experienced more than his fair share of close personal protection, having served once as the deputy UN military commander in Chechnya. Flint’s technique could use some updating, but he was still pretty good.
“I suppose such things are routine in your world, Admiral,” Einstein mused.
Kolhammer was intrigued by the insight.
“That’s true. But why do you say so, Professor?”
Einstein crossed his legs and leaned back to feel the sun on his face.
“You seem to come from a militarized society, Admiral; the ease with which your men and women in uniform mix together. The way you don’t appear to heed the race or creed of your comrades. Some might see that as enlightened, and I suppose it is. But you could also see it as the defensive response of a society that has been fighting for so long it has shed itself of all trappings save those needed to wage war. You can see the same thing happening here and now, to a lesser extent.”
The reasoning was sound, even though the particulars weren’t exactly as Einstein put them. Kolhammer took a moment to study their surroundings, the affluence and luxury, the monocultural certainty of forties America. LA was starting to fill up with minorities, drawn to the war industries, but you wouldn’t know it here on the grounds of the Ambassador Hotel.