Revolution

Part Five

Part Five

It started with nudges, gentle pokes and murmurs and then there were gasps and even a couple of screams. Everyone was looking. 

Pierre Trudeau had entered Le Bar Maritime of the Ritz Carleton Hotel. 

Victor's wife Lena said, "He's not a politician, he's a pop star," and Victor said, "It's like Beatlemania, they call it Trudeaumania. In North America people don't like their leaders to be politicians, they prefer amateurs." 

Lena said this one is no amateur, "Look at him work the room." 

"Yes," Victor said, "young, handsome, sophisticated." 

"So full of himself. He'll make a great partner for the young Kennedy." 

Trudeau and his entourage walked through the whole room but they didn't sit at any tables, they just kept going back out to the lobby. 

"Oh," Victor said, "I heard that Kennedy's not going to run this time." 

Lena was still looking at the reactions to Trudeau, mostly the women still smiling as if they'd been blessed, but then men, too, were pleased to have been visited, and finally she looked at Victor and said, "Oh, you don't think he just enjoys the drama?" 

Victor said, "He won't run until this war is over. Johnson will use the Tet Offensive to show the Americans need to commit far more troops to Vietnam." 

"And if they do?" 

Victor shrugged. "They'll be in Hanoi by the spring." 

Lena was lighting a cigarette, blowing out smoke across the table and she said, "This can't happen." 

"I beg your pardon?" 

"Victor, after backing down on the missiles in Cuba--." 

"Cuba is still communist." 

"After backing down in Cuba and now the noises coming from Poland and this Dubcek in Prague - no, it mustn't. Can't you hear my father in the politburo, we cannot appear to be so weak." 

Victor looked at his wife and was thinking if only she knew how thin the veneer of power really was, how weak they really were. But he didn't say it, he said, "Yes, of course." 

Lena smoked and tapped ash into the ashtray, looking around the restaurant. She said, "I think I'll have the filet mignon. Should we have shrimp to start?" 

Victor nodded, thinking maybe she did know a lot more than she let on, his wife, the daughter of one of the most powerful men in the Kremlin. He could never tell for sure. 

Then he was smiling a little, thinking she should have been the spy. 

He watched her wave at the waiter and then turn to Victor and smile and he wondered if maybe she was a spy.