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an Italian？ He knew the answer to that； of course； but just because there was a reason didn't mean that he had to like it。 〃I'll make sure he doesn't bother you anymore。〃
〃You do that；〃 Robby said。
Donoho went back into the hall； and unsurprisingly found O'Neil giving his spiel to the reporters。 Mr。 Ryan is distraught； he was saying； as any family man would be in similar circumstances。 His first exposure to the man the previous week had given him a feeling of distaste。 Then he'd started to admire his skill and charm。 Now Donoho's reaction to the man's words was one of loathing。 An idea blinked on in his head。 He wondered if the Bureau would approve and decided it was worth the risk。 First the agent grabbed a state trooper by the arm and made sure that the man wouldn't get close to Ryan again。 Next he got hold of a photographer and talked to him briefly。 Together they found a doctor。
〃No； absolutely not；〃 the surgeon replied to the initial request。
〃Hey； Doc；〃 the photojournalist said。 〃My wife's pregnant with our first。 If it'll help this guy； I'm for it。 This one doesn't make the papers。 You got my word。 Doc。〃
〃I think it'll help；〃 the FBI agent said。 〃I really do。〃
Ten minutes later Donoho and the photographer stripped off their scrub clothing。 The FBI agent took the film cassette and tucked it in his pocket。 Before he took O'Neil back to the airport； he made a call to headquarters in Washington； and two agents drove out to Ryan's home on Peregrine Cliff。 They didn't have any problem with the alarm system。
Jack had been awake for more than twenty…four hours now。 If he'd been able to think about it； he would have marveled at the fact that he was awake and functional； though the latter observation would have been a matter of dispute to anyone who saw him walking。 He was alone now。 Robby was off attending to something that he couldn't remember。
He would have been alone in any case。 Twenty minutes earlier； Cathy had been moved into the main University Hospital plex； and Jack had to go see her。 He walked like a man facing execution down a drab corridor of glazed institutional brick。 He turned a corner and saw what room it had to be。 A pair of state troopers was standing there。 They watched him approach； and Jack watched their eyes for a sign that they knew all of this was his fault； that his wife and daughter had nearly died because he'd decided that there was nothing to worry about。 Not once in his life had Jack experienced failure； and its bitter taste made him think that the whole world would hold him in the same contempt he felt for himself。
You're so fucking smart。
It seemed to his senses that he did not so much approach the door it approached him； looming ever larger in his sight。 Behind the door was the woman he loved。 The woman who had nearly died because of his confidence in himself。 What would she say to him？ Did he dare to find out？ Jack stood at the door for a moment。 The troopers tried not to stare at him。 Perhaps they felt sympathy； Jack thought； knowing that he didn't deserve it。 The doorknob was cold； accusing metal in his hand as he entered the room。
Cathy was lying in her single…bed room。 Her arm was in a cast。 An enormous purple bruise covered the right side of her face and there was a bandage over half her forehead。 Her eyes were open but almost lifeless； staring at a television that wasn't on。 Jack moved toward her as though asleep。 A nurse had set a chair alongside the bed。 He sat in it； and took his wife's hand while he tried to think of something he could say to the wife he had failed。 Her face turned toward his。 Her eyes were blackened and full of tears。
〃I'm sorry。 Jack；〃 she whispered。
〃What？〃
〃I knew she was fooling with the seat belt； but I didn't do anything because I was in a hurry and then that truck came； and I didn't have time to if I had made sure she was strapped in； Sally would be fine 。 。 。 but I was in a hurry；〃 she finished； and looked away。 〃Jack； I'm so sorry。〃
My God； she thinks it's her fault 。 。 。 what do I say now？
〃She's going to be okay； babe；〃 Ryan managed to say； stunned at what he'd just heard。 He held Cathy's hand to his face and kissed it。 〃And so are you。 That's the only thing that matters now。〃
〃But 〃 She stared at the far wall。
〃No 'buts。' 〃
Her face turned back。 Cathy tried to smile but tears were rolling from her eyes。 〃I talked to Doctor Ellingstone at Hopkins he came over and saw Sally。 He says he says she'll be okay。 He says that Shapiro saved her life。〃
〃I know。〃
〃I haven't even seen her I remember seeing the bridge and then I woke up two hours ago； and oh； Jack！〃 Her hand closed on his like a claw。 He leaned forward to kiss her； but before their lips touched； both started weeping。
〃It's okay； Cathy；〃 Jack said； and he started to believe that it really was； or at least that it would be so again。 His world had not ended； not quite。
But someone else's will； Ryan told himself。 The thought was a quiet； distant one； voiced in a part of his mind that was already looking at the future while the present occupied his sight。 Seeing his wife weeping tears caused by someone else started a cold rage in him which only that someone's death could ever warm。
The time for grief was already ending； carried away by his own tears。 Though it had not yet happened； Ryan's intellect was already beginning to think of the time when his emotions would be at rest most of them。 One would remain。 He would control it； but it would also control him。 He would not feel like a whole man again until he was purged of it。
One can only weep for so long； it is as though each tear carries a finite amount of emotion away with it。 Cathy stopped first。 She used her hand to wipe her husband's face。 She managed a real smile now。 Jack hadn't shaved。 It was like rubbing sandpaper。
〃What time is it？〃
〃Ten…thirty。〃 Jack didn't have to check his watch。
〃You need sleep； Jack；〃 she said。 〃You have to stay healthy； too。〃
〃Yeah。〃 Jack rubbed his eyes。
〃Hi； Cathy；〃 Robby said as he came through the door。 〃I've e to take him away from you。〃
〃Good。〃
〃We're checked into the Holiday Inn over on Lombard Street。〃
〃We？ Robby； you don't 〃
〃Stuff it； Jack；〃 Robby said。 〃How are you； Cathy？〃
〃I have a headache you wouldn't believe。〃
〃Good to see you smile；〃 Robby said softly。 〃Sissy'll be up after lunch。 Is there anything she can get for you？〃
〃Not right now。 Thanks； Rob。〃
〃Hang in there； Doc。〃 Robby took Jack's arm and hauled him to his feet。 〃I'll have him back to you later today。〃
Twenty minutes later Robby led Jack into their motel room。 He pulled a pill container from his pocket。 〃The doc said you should take one of these。〃
〃I don't take pills。〃
〃You're taking one of these； sport。 It's a nice yellow one。 That's not a request； Jack； it's an order。 You need sleep。 Here。〃 Robby tossed them over and stared until Jack swallowed one。 Ryan was asleep in ten minutes。 Jackson made certain that the door was secured before settling down on the other bed。 The pilot dreamed of seeing the people who had done all this。 They were in an airplane。 Four times he fired a missile into their bird and watched their bodies spill out of the hole it made so that he could blast them with his cannon before they fell into the sea。
The Patriots Club was a bar across the street from Broadway Station in one of South Boston's Irish enclaves。 Its name harkened not back to the revolutionaries of the 1770s； but rather to the owner's image of himself。 John Donoho had served in the First Marine Division on the bitter retreat from the Chosin Reservoir。 Wounded twice； he'd never left his squad on the long； cold march to the port of Hungnam。 He still walked with a slight limp from the four toes that frostbite had taken from his right foot。 He was prouder of this than of his several decorations； framed under a Marine Corps standard behind the bar。 Anyone who entered the bar in a Marine uniform always got his first drink free； along with a story or two about the Old Corps； which Corporal John Donoho； USMC （ret。）； had served at the ripe age of e