Page 14 of Tom Clancy Line of Sight

“Jack,” Dr. Costello said. “Let’s get some lunch, shall we?” He tugged on Jack’s arm, breaking his eye lock with Ponytail.

Jack turned to the priest. “Sounds good, Dr. C.”

“Yeah, go get some lunch with your pedophile friend.”

Jack’s eyes narrowed. “What did you say?”

“You heard me. We all know what the Catholic Church is all about. And Hitler was a Catholic, you know.”

“Hitler persecuted the Catholic Church,” Jack said. “Priests and nuns were killed in the Holocaust along with the Jews and a lot of other people who weren’t politically correct.”

The man sneered and pointed a finger at Dr. Costello. “He told you that? That’s just a bunch of Vatican propaganda. Right, Padre?”

Jack felt the heat rise in his face. “You don’t know who this man is, and I don’t appreciate you insulting him or my faith.”

A group of protesters gathered in a loose circle around them now. A few wore the cliché Guy Fawkes masks. Some were clearly high on something. Most were agitated, itching for a fight. Jack knew they were all out of eyesight of the police, who were back around the corner. The odds were stacking up in the wrong direction, but Jack didn’t care.

“Religion is bullshit, dude. It’s the Muzak in the men’s room at Macy’s. Wake the fuck up.”

“You tell him!” someone said, and laughed.

Dr. Costello said to Ponytail, “If you want to change the world, son, meet me at Saint Luke’s at four o’clock and help me teach algebra to some bright young minds.”

“First of all, I’m not your son, and second, do we teach them algebra before or after we rape them?”

“You need to watch your piehole, ace.” Jack stepped closer, his eyes focused on the man’s throat.

Dr. Costello smiled at Ponytail. “I’m sorry you’re so angry.” He turned to Jack. “Come on, the shepherd’s pie is getting cold.” He tugged on Jack’s arm, but Jack didn’t budge.

“It’s not worth it, son,” Costello said.

Jack turned to him. “But he insulted you, and our faith.”

“Our Lord suffered far more for our sake.” He nodded at Ponytail. “And his.”

“Yeah. You two go run along and find yourself a safe space—while you can. Some of us have work to do.” The big man pushed against Jack, but Jack held his ground, jabbing a finger in the man’s broad chest.

“The truth, you stupid bastard, is that if your fat ass got caught in a sling over here, it would be some God-fearing eighteen-year-old U.S. Marine who’d be laying it on the line to save your worthless hide. So show some respect for your country and your flag, especially over here.”

“I don’t have a flag anymore, Richie Rich. I wiped my ass with it this morning, and then I burned it.”

Everything in Jack told him to take the shitbird down, honor most of all. But he also had responsibilities as a Hendley employee, and as his father’s son. Dropping this sack of human waste hard onto the pavement with a smashing blow to the temple would feel mighty fine, and would render at least a small service to humanity. But a criminal and diplomatic incident wouldn’t do anybody any good, least of all him, and the idea of turning this guy into some kind of hero-martyr wasn’t very appealing. It took Jack all of half a second to decide to stand down.

About the length of time it took for Ponytail to start braying like a donkey at his own foul joke.

“Get out of my way,” he barked, as he brushed past Jack,who suffered the humiliating laughter and catcalls rolling through the crowd following in the big man’s wake.

Jack stood fixed to the pavement, his blood still boiling.

“Free speech is a beautiful thing, isn’t it?” the priest said with a snarky smile on his face.

“So’s a well-thrown punch, Dr. C. You should try it sometime.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t.”

“Me too.”

“You had me worried for a minute, son. I prayed for you.”