toast. 'Eat that before you have a cigarette. '
'No, really. It bothers me. For the past week I've been a duck in a superficially protected gallery. It occurred to me yesterday afternoon. '
'What do you mean?' Marie poured out the water and placed the pan in the kitchen sink, her eyes on Webb. 'Six men are around you, four on your "flanks", as you said, and two peering into everything in front and behind you. '
'A parade. '
'Why do you call it that?1
'I don't know. Everyone in his place, marching to a drumbeat. I don't know. '
'But you feel something?'
'I guess so. '
'Tell me. Those feelings of yours once saved my life on the Guisan Quai in Zurich. I'd like to hear it - well, maybe I wouldn't, but I damn well better. '
Webb broke the yolk of his egg on the toast. 'Do you know how easy it would be for someone - someone who looked young enough to be a student - to walk by me on a path and shoot an air dart into me? He could cover the sound with a cough, or a laugh, and I'd have a hundred cc's of strychnine in my blood. '
'You know far more about that sort of thing than I do. '
'Of course. Because that's the way I'd do it. '
'No. That's the way Jason Bourne might do it. Not you. '
'All right, I'm projecting. It doesn't invalidate the thought. '
'What happened yesterday afternoon?'
Webb toyed with the egg and toast on his plate. 'The seminar ran late as usual. It was getting dark, and my guards fell in and we walked across the quad towards the parking lot. There was a football rally - our insignificant team against another insignificant team - but very large for us. The crowd passed the four of us, kids racing to a bonfire behind the bleachers, screaming and shouting and singing fight songs, working themselves up. And I thought to myself, this is //. This is when it's going to happen if it is going to happen. Believe me, for those few moments I was Bourne. I crouched and side-stepped and watched everyone I could see - I was close to panic. '
'And?' said Marie, disturbed by her husband's abrupt silence.
'My so-called guards were looking around and laughing, the two in front having a ball, enjoying the whole thing. '
'That disturbed you?'
'Instinctively. I was a vulnerable target in the centre of an excited crowd. My nerves told me that; my mind didn't have to. '
'Who's talking now?'
'I'm not sure. I just know that during those few moments nothing made sense to me. Then, only seconds later, as if to pinpoint the feelings I hadn't verbalized, the man behind me on my left came up and said something like, "Isn't it great - or terrific - to see kids with that kind of spirit? Makes you feel good, doesn't it?" I mumbled something inane, and then he said - and these are his exact words - "How about you, professor? Do you feel better about things now, what with us here and all?" David looked up at his wife. 'Did 7 feel better... HOW? Me. '
'He knew what their job was,' interrupted Marie. 'To protect you. I'm sure he meant did you feel safer. '
'Did he? Do they? That crowd of screaming kids, the dim light, the shadowy bodies, obscure faces... and he's joining in and laughing - they're all laughing. Are they really here to protect me?'
'What else?'
'I don't know. Maybe I've simply been where they haven't. Maybe I'm just thinking too much, thinking about McAllister and those eyes of his. Except for the blinking they belonged to a dead fish. You could read into them anything you wanted to - depending upon how you felt. '
'What he told you was a shock,' said Marie, leaning against the sink, her arms folded across her breasts, watching her husband closely. 'It had to have had a terrible effect on you. It certainly did on me. '
'That's probably it,' agreed Webb, nodding. 'It's ironic, but as much as there are so many things I want to remember, there's an awful lot I'd like to forget. '
'Why don't you call McAllister and tell him what you feel, what you think? You've got a direct line to him, both at his office and his