An agent named Jeff laid out ham and bacon, biscuits, eggs, sugary things somebody said was beignets (a kind of French doughnut that I ate six of), a couple of T-bones, coffee, juice, hot tea, and fresh hot chocolate. Mike was a big Cubs fan and he talked with this other guy, Paul, about their chances this year and the problem was their bullpen like it was every other year. Bennacio sat beside me, nibbled on some toast with strawberry jam, sipped coffee, and said nothing.
After breakfast, Mike led us up the stairs to the second floor and showed us the bathrooms where we could wash up. I stripped down and laid my clothes outside the door as Mike suggested, so they could be washed while Bennacio and I took our showers.
I stood for a long time under the hot spray. I think I may have had jet lag, because I kept dropping the soap, and everything seemed to be taking a very long time to accomplish: it seemed washing my hair took at least a couple of hours.
I stood in the shower until my fingertips pruned up; then I dried off and slipped into a white terry-cloth robe that I found hanging on a hook by the shower. The bathroom was very small and I kept knocking into the sink and hitting my elbows on the walls, but I felt better with a full stomach and a clean body. I found a toothbrush and some paste in the medicine cabinet and scrubbed my teeth. Brushing my teeth made me think of my mother, who was a real stickler for oral hygiene—I’d never had a cavity in my life.
I was late getting back downstairs. The meeting had already started without me. Mike, Jeff, and Paul were sitting on the sofa in the great room, with Bennacio sitting by himself in the rough-hewn rocking chair near the fire.
A lady sat next to Mike. She had large lips that looked very red and wet-looking in the firelight. Her platinum-blond hair was pulled into a tight bun on top of her head. She wore a pinstriped business suit and black high heels.
I leaned against the wooden beam in the entryway, feeling kind of silly in my bare feet, my hair still wet. Bennacio was fully dressed. Nobody acknowledged my presence. Mike was talking.
“So it’s all set up,” he was saying. “Last night I got final approval from headquarters. I can’t tell you how much, that’s classified, but I will say we think we’ve topped the highest bid by at least half a billion.”
He stopped, almost as if he was waiting for an answer from Bennacio. He didn’t get an answer, though. Bennacio said nothing. He was staring at the fire.
Mike pulled a piece of foil from his pocket, carefully wrapped his used gum in it, and slipped it back into his pocket. He popped another piece of gum into his mouth, wrapped up the foil, and just as carefully put the fresh foil into his pocket.
The lady with the shiny blond hair spoke up. She had a British accent. “Honestly, we think that was his plan from the beginning, to sell the Sword to us.”
“Really?” Bennacio said. “You presume much.”
“Who else could he turn to?” she asked. “We represent the richest countries in the world. And he can trust us. Not even the Dragon wants to see the whole world go up in flames.”
“Right, Benny-boy, that’s right!” Mike said. “I mean, how’s he going to enjoy his money in a nuclear wasteland? He’s known from the beginning he has to sell it to the good guys.”
“I have told you,” Bennacio said. “Mogart does not intend to give you the Sword. He will never part with it.”
“How come?” Mike was smiling at Bennacio, a hard, unfriendly smile.
“Would you?”
“Hey, come on now, Benny. We’re the good guys, remember? We’re all on the same side here, right?”
“He will take your money and keep the Sword.”
“World domination, huh? King Mogart. Well, we’re just gonna have to take our chances on that one, Benny.”
“You are a fool,” Bennacio said, turning away from the fire and glaring at Mike. “He will betray you.”
“That’s precisely why we’ve invited you to the party.” Mike turned to the British lady. “Right, Abby?”
Abby said, “We will not make the exchange until you’ve verified the Sword’s authenticity.”
“And then OIPEP returns the Sword of Righteousness to us, its friends,” Bennacio said. Now he was the one smiling hard and unfriendly.
“I’m gonna be honest with you, Benny. That’s not our call,” Mike said. “Point of fact you guys didn’t do such a hot job of protecting it in the first place.”
“We have protected it for a thousand years,” Bennacio shot back. “Only by a freakish accident was it lost.”
Mike glanced over his shoulder at me, the freakish accident. Then he looked at Bennacio, smiled and shrugged, as if to say, Look, buddy, you couldn’t even protect it from this big loser.
“Bennacio,” Abby said in a kind voice. “We have nothing but admiration for what your Order has accomplished. But perhaps the time has come for the Sword to pass on to different protectors. Why else would Samson involve us?”
“Abby’s got her hands around the issue’s throat, Benny,” Mike said. “There’s nobody on the planet better equipped to keep it safe.”
Bennacio wasn’t buying it. “I will not do this without your assurance the Sword will be returned to me.”
“Like I said, Benny, we can’t promise that,” Mike answered. “I’ve always been straight with you and I respect the heck out of you and your knightly buds. We wouldn’t dream of busting your chops. But I will give you my personal guarantee The Company has no intention of using the Sword for any purpose. We want the same thing you want: to keep it out of the hands of all the baddies and loonies.”
“I cannot betray my solemn oath,” Bennacio said. “By my life or death I will hold and protect it. I can do no less. If Mogart indeed returns the Sword, you must kill me to keep it from me.”
“Nobody wants to do that,” Abby said. She didn’t say they wouldn’t kill Bennacio, though.
“Benny,” Mike said. “We’re a go whether you come along or not. We’re just waiting for the Dragon to get back to us on the time and location for delivery of the Sword. We—I—want you along, of course, and once we get the Sword back, everything’s negotiable. Let’s take it one step at a time.”
Bennacio sighed. Nobody said anything for a long time. Paul picked at a hangnail. Jeff smoothed creases I couldn’t see on his pants. Mike smacked his gum. Abby was the only one looking at Bennacio.
Finally, he stirred in his chair and said, “I will come, on one condition.”
“You name it.”
“The vengeance is mine.”
“ ‘Thus saith the Lord,’ ” Mike cracked, but nobody laughed.