Final impact

His uncle Hans, who would have survived this war had it not been for the Transition, had been removed from the death camp at Treblinka and publicly executed as an American spy, some six months earlier. The German propaganda minister, Josef Gцbbels, had personally seen to the release of the film footage into the free world, via Spain. Even now Phillip Kolhammer could feel an ungovernable rage gathering inside him as he remembered the first time he’d heard the news. He doubted that fate would play him an even break, but if it did, and he ended up in a room with Herr Doktor Gцbbels at the end of this conflict, there was a very good chance he would beat the little rodent to death with his bare hands.

When he regained control over the poisoned wellspring of his feelings, he found that Roosevelt was looking mildly abashed.

“I forget myself, Admiral,” the president muttered. “I apologize.”

Not knowing what to say, Kolhammer merely nodded, but he remained stiffly at attention.

After another few seconds of uncomfortable stillness, Roosevelt eventually broke. “Can you at least assure me that the Russians don’t have your ship?”

“No, sir. I cannot. As you know, we’re still doing all we can to find out whether it came through and fell into the wrong hands. If it did, it might not necessarily be in the USSR, of course. It could be in Colombia, or China, or buried under a mile of ice at the South Pole. I suppose it’s possible it could turn up tomorrow or a hundred years from now, given the temporal anomalies of the Dessaix’s arrival. We just don’t know.”

Roosevelt shook his head and held up his hand again. “Please, spare me. I just need to know that you’re not still running some undercover operation in Joe Stalin’s backyard.”

“I am not.”

“And what about my backyard?” the president asked, his voice suddenly cold again. “Am I going to wake up tomorrow and find that your Ms. O’Brien has done away with yet another inconvenient foe, like Mr. Hoover or Congressman Dies?”

Kolhammer could sense a trapdoor creaking beneath his feet. He carefully avoided answering the first question by concentrating on the second.

“Ms. O’Brien is her own woman, sir. She’s a private citizen now. Not mine to command.”

“Really?” FDR tilted his head. A reflection of the fire burning in the Oval Office hearth filled one lens. Kolhammer resisted the urge to shrug. He knew Roosevelt was using the expanding silence as a weapon, hoping to make him blurt something out as the discomfort grew more intense. Did the old man know about the Room, or was he just fishing?

He chose his next words carefully. “I’m sure Director Foxworth could tell you all about Ms. O’Brien,” he said in a monotone. “I understand he has a considerable number of the bureau’s agents assigned to watching her full-time.”

Roosevelt didn’t bite. “And how would you know that, Admiral?” he countered. “Surely Ms. O’Brien’s affairs aren’t a matter of concern to your Zone security officers.”

“No, sir. They are not. But Ms. O’Brien is no wallflower. I doubt a week goes by that she doesn’t complain in the press-about harassment by the FBI or the IRS.”

Roosevelt didn’t so much smile as stretch his lips back to bare his teeth. “You seem to sympathize with her, Admiral Kolhammer. You don’t think Internal Revenue should have investigated her companies.”

Still standing rigidly, Kolhammer had little trouble avoiding that trap. In a way, being forced to remain at attention focused his mind. “I don’t see that it would be appropriate for me to comment, Mr. President, for any number of reasons.”

“Oh, come now, Admiral. You must have an opinion. I know you think very highly of Ms. O’Brien. You were quoted at length in that New Yorker profile of her, as I recall. You can’t be happy to see her name dragged through the mud.”

“If I had a personal opinion, it would be just that, sir. Personal…and private.”

“I see,” Roosevelt said, fitting a new cigarette into his holder. “That’s odd, because you were quite free with your opinions when Director Hoover resigned.”

Kolhammer ground out his reply like an ogre chewing rocks. “Director Hoover misapplied public resources in the surveillance and harassment of Zone personnel. He compromised the security of a significant number of research programs. And he did untold damage to the operations of other intelligence agencies through his incompetence, malfeasance, and utterly inappropriate use of bureau resources. You are correct, Mr. President. I expressed these opinions publicly, under oath, during hearings in both the Senate and the House. It was my duty to do so.”

“Was it your duty to repeat them and expand on them for Miss Duffy in The New York Times?” Roosevelt demanded.

“I believe so, sir. Where I came from, considerable harm was done by military officials who did not speak their minds when they should have.”