Page 110

“If you crossed our border in an armed invasion, Canada would push back. It would be a losing proposition, we could never hold out, but we’d try.”

“I know you would. That happened every time in our war games. And you know what happened next? The first image of a Canadian soldier killing an American, and even those against an invasion would come onside. It’s human nature. Our nature. You kill one American and a hundred more take their place. It would quickly degenerate into all-out war, all along the border, from New England—”

“The Maritime Provinces.”

“To Washington State.”

“British Columbia.”

“And everywhere in between. They want you to push back. It would justify the invasion.”

“Who are ‘they’?” demanded Gamache. “You must have some idea.”

“I’ve told you, I don’t know.” Whitehead was exhausted and exasperated. “I’ve tried to find out, but…”

Gamache studied the large man in front of him. His friend. His colleague. Was he telling the truth? Did he really not know?

“Guess,” said Armand.

“I do wonder…”

Armand held his breath. Say it, say it. Tell me. But he saw Whitehead pull back. Though even that was telling. It suggested to Gamache that whoever Whitehead suspected of being behind this was prominent. Perhaps even someone he owed allegiance to.

“Someone’s trying to push us into a war with each other,” Gamache probed. Pushed. “If you have any idea who it might be, you need to tell me. I need to see that plan.”

“I’m sorry, Armand. I can’t. Not before I speak to someone.”

“The person who’s behind it?”

“I hope not. But I need to find out. Then I will give you what you need. I promise.”

It sounded so sincere, almost innocent. Armand was tempted to ask for a pinkie swear. Instead, he asked, “Is this really only about water?”

“Isn’t that enough? No water, no life. But it doesn’t hurt that we’d have access to your vast supply of hydroelectricity.”

In Québec, electricity came from the network of huge dams. From water. In Québec water literally meant power.

“But it doesn’t stop there,” said Armand. “You’d have our oil, minerals. Natural resources are the new currency. Power is measured in liters now. Not missiles. Not GDP.”

“Now you’re getting it,” said Whitehead. “The countries with the most water, the most oil, the most minerals are quickly becoming the most powerful. Canada is climbing to the top of the heap.”

“And becoming a target. Like walking around inner-city Montréal with a bag of heroin around our necks.”

“Now there’s an image, and oddly appropriate. With water comes another sort of power. Political power. And that’s a drug. It’s driven more than one decent person crazy. Power-mad. If this takeover happens, the person who leads it will become a despot, with all of North America under their control.”

“You’re talking about your President,” said Gamache.

“I didn’t say that,” General Whitehead snapped.

“But you suspect.”

Whitehead said nothing.

“You need to find out who, Bert. And we need proof.”

“It’s not just the US, Armand. There’re people in Canada involved. People who want this to happen. Who’ll benefit.”

“Moretti,” said Beauvoir, who’d been following this closely.