Free The Fourth K by Mario Puzo

killing of the Pope was carried out by an all-Italian cadre. The hijacking of Theresa’s plane was done by a mixed team led by an Arab who goes by the name Yabril. The fact that both incidents happened on the same day and originated in the same city seems to be coincidence. Which, of course, we must always mistrust.”
    Kennedy said softly, “At this moment the killing of the Pope is not primary. Our main concern is the hijacking. Have they made any demands yet?”
    Tappey said quickly and firmly, “No. That’s an odd circumstance in itself.”
    Kennedy said, “Get your contacts on negotiation and report to me personally at every step.” He turned to the Secretary of State and asked, “What countries will help us?”
    The Secretary said, “Everyone—the other Arab states are horrified, they despise the idea of your daughter being held hostage. It offends their sense of honor and also they think of their own custom of the blood feud. They believe they cannot derive any good from this. France has a good relationship with the Sultan. They offered to send in observers for us. Britain and Israel can’t help—they are not trusted. But until the hijackers make their demands we’re sort of in limbo.”
    Kennedy turned to Christian. “Chris, how do you figure it, they’re not making demands?”
    Christian said, “It may be too early. Or they have another card to play.”
    The Cabinet Room was eerie in silence; in the blackness of the many high heavy chairs the white sconces of light on the walls turned the skin of the people in the room into a very light gray. Kennedy waited for them to speak, all of them, and he closed down his mind when they spoke of options, the threat of sanctions, the threat of a naval blockade, the freezing of Sherhaben assets in the United States—the expectation that the hijackers would extend the negotiation interminably to milk the TV time and news reports all over the world.
    After a time Kennedy turned to Oddblood Gray and said abruptly, “Schedule a meeting with the congressional leaders, the relevant committee chairmen, for me and my staff.” Then he turned to Arthur Wix. “Get your national security staff working on plans if this thing turns into something wider.” Then Kennedy stood up to leave. He addressed them all. “Gentlemen,” he said, “I must tell you I don’t believe incoincidence. I don’t believe the Pope of the Roman Catholic Church can be murdered on the same day in the same city that the daughter of the President of the United States is kidnaped.”
    Adam Gresse and Henry Tibbot had put aside Easter Sunday as a day of work. Not on their scientific projects but on cleaning up all traces of their crime. In their apartment, they bundled up all their old newspapers from which they had cut letters to compose their message. They vacuumed to remove the tiny fragments of scissored papers. They even got rid of the scissors and glue. They washed down the walls. Then they went to their university workshop to get rid of all the tools and equipment they had used to construct their bomb. It did not occur to them to turn on the television until their task was completed. When they heard the news of the killing of the Pope and the kidnaping of the President’s daughter, they looked at each other and smiled. Adam Gresse said, “Henry, I think our time has come.”
    It was a long Easter Sunday. The White House was filling up with staff personnel of the different action committees set up by the CIA, the Army and the Navy, and the State Department. They all agreed that the most baffling fact was that the terrorists had not yet made their demands for the release of the hostages.
    Outside, the streets were congested with traffic. Newspaper and TV reporters were flocking into Washington. Government staff workers had been called to their desks despite its being Easter. And Christian Klee had ordered a thousand extra men from the Secret Service and the FBI to provide additional protection