different world back then. World War Two was recent history, and the idea of killing a lot of people—even innocent civilians—was a familiar one, mainly from the bombing campaigns,” Hendley clarified. “It was just a cost of doing business.”
“And Castro?”
“That was President John Kennedy and his brother Robert. They had a hard-on for doing Castro. Most people think it was embarrassment over the
Bay of Pigs
fiasco. I personally think it might have come more from reading too many James Bond novels. There was a glamour in murdering people back then. Today we call it sociopathy,” Hendley noted sourly. “Problem was, first, that it's a lot more fun to read about than actually to do it, and, second, it's not an easy thing to accomplish without highly trained and highly motivated personnel. Well, I guess they found out. Then, when it became public, somehow the involvement of the Kennedy family was glossed over, and CIA paid the price for doing—badly—what the sitting President had told them to do. President Ford's Executive Order put an end to it all. And so, CIA doesn't deliberately kill people anymore.”
“What about John Clark?” Jack asked, remembering the look in that guy's eyes.
“He's an aberration of sorts. Yes, he has killed people more than once, but he was always careful enough to do it only when it was tactically necessary at the moment.
Langley
does allow people to defend themselves in the field, and he had a gift for making it tactically necessary. I've met Clark a couple of times. Mainly, I know him by reputation. But he's an aberration. Now that he's retired, maybe he'll write a book. But even if he does, it'll never have the full story in it.
Clark
plays by the rules, like your dad. Sometimes he bends those rules, but to my knowledge he's never once broken them well, not as a federal employee,” Hendley corrected himself. He and the elder Jack Ryan had once had a long talk about John Clark, and they were the only two people in all the world who knew the whole story.
“Once I told Dad that I wouldn't want to be on
Clark
's bad side.”
Hendley smiled. “That's true enough, but you could also trust John Clark with the lives of your children. When we met last, you asked me a question about
Clark
. I can answer now: If he were younger, he'd be here,” Hendley said revealingly.
“You just told me something,” Jack said at once.
“I know. Can you live with it?”
“Killing people?”
“I didn't say that, exactly, did I?”
Jack Jr. put his coffee cup down. “Now I know why Dad says you're smart.”
“Can you live with the fact that your father has taken a few lives in his time?”
“I know about that. Happened the night I was born. It's practically a family legend. The newsies made a lot of it while Dad was President. They kept bringing it up like it was leprosy or something. Except there's a cure for leprosy.”
“I know. In a movie it's downright cool, but in real life people get the heebie-jeebies about it. The problem with the real world is that sometimes—not often, but sometimes—it's necessary to do that sort of thing, as your father discovered . . . on more than one occasion, Jack. He never flinched. I think he even had bad dreams about it. But when he had to do it, he did it. That's why you're alive. That's why a lot of other people are alive.”
“I know about the submarine thing. That's pretty much in the open, but—”
“More than just that. Your father never went out looking for trouble, but when it found him—as I said, he did what was necessary.”
“I sorta remember when the people who attacked Mom and Dad—the night I was born, that is—were executed. I asked Mom about it. She's not real big on executing people, you see. In that case, she didn't mind very much. She was uncomfortable with it, but I suppose you'd say she saw the logic of the situation. Dad—you know, he didn't really like it
“And Castro?”
“That was President John Kennedy and his brother Robert. They had a hard-on for doing Castro. Most people think it was embarrassment over the
Bay of Pigs
fiasco. I personally think it might have come more from reading too many James Bond novels. There was a glamour in murdering people back then. Today we call it sociopathy,” Hendley noted sourly. “Problem was, first, that it's a lot more fun to read about than actually to do it, and, second, it's not an easy thing to accomplish without highly trained and highly motivated personnel. Well, I guess they found out. Then, when it became public, somehow the involvement of the Kennedy family was glossed over, and CIA paid the price for doing—badly—what the sitting President had told them to do. President Ford's Executive Order put an end to it all. And so, CIA doesn't deliberately kill people anymore.”
“What about John Clark?” Jack asked, remembering the look in that guy's eyes.
“He's an aberration of sorts. Yes, he has killed people more than once, but he was always careful enough to do it only when it was tactically necessary at the moment.
Langley
does allow people to defend themselves in the field, and he had a gift for making it tactically necessary. I've met Clark a couple of times. Mainly, I know him by reputation. But he's an aberration. Now that he's retired, maybe he'll write a book. But even if he does, it'll never have the full story in it.
Clark
plays by the rules, like your dad. Sometimes he bends those rules, but to my knowledge he's never once broken them well, not as a federal employee,” Hendley corrected himself. He and the elder Jack Ryan had once had a long talk about John Clark, and they were the only two people in all the world who knew the whole story.
“Once I told Dad that I wouldn't want to be on
Clark
's bad side.”
Hendley smiled. “That's true enough, but you could also trust John Clark with the lives of your children. When we met last, you asked me a question about
Clark
. I can answer now: If he were younger, he'd be here,” Hendley said revealingly.
“You just told me something,” Jack said at once.
“I know. Can you live with it?”
“Killing people?”
“I didn't say that, exactly, did I?”
Jack Jr. put his coffee cup down. “Now I know why Dad says you're smart.”
“Can you live with the fact that your father has taken a few lives in his time?”
“I know about that. Happened the night I was born. It's practically a family legend. The newsies made a lot of it while Dad was President. They kept bringing it up like it was leprosy or something. Except there's a cure for leprosy.”
“I know. In a movie it's downright cool, but in real life people get the heebie-jeebies about it. The problem with the real world is that sometimes—not often, but sometimes—it's necessary to do that sort of thing, as your father discovered . . . on more than one occasion, Jack. He never flinched. I think he even had bad dreams about it. But when he had to do it, he did it. That's why you're alive. That's why a lot of other people are alive.”
“I know about the submarine thing. That's pretty much in the open, but—”
“More than just that. Your father never went out looking for trouble, but when it found him—as I said, he did what was necessary.”
“I sorta remember when the people who attacked Mom and Dad—the night I was born, that is—were executed. I asked Mom about it. She's not real big on executing people, you see. In that case, she didn't mind very much. She was uncomfortable with it, but I suppose you'd say she saw the logic of the situation. Dad—you know, he didn't really like it
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