The Fourth K
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A PRESIDENTIAL DYNASTY. AN ARAB TERRORIST ATTACK. DEMOCRACY UNDER SIEGE. Mario Puzo envisioned it all in his eerily prescient 1991 novel, The Fourth K.
President Francis Xavier Kennedy is elected to office, in large part, thanks to the legacy of his forebears–good looks, privilege, wealth–and is the very embodiment of youthful optimism. Too soon, however, he is beaten down by the political process and, disabused of his ideals, he becomes a leader totally unlike what he has been before.
When his daughter becomes a pawn in a brutal terrorist plot, Kennedy, who has obsessively kept alive the memory of his uncles’ assassinations, activates all his power to retaliate in a series of violent measures. As the explosive events unfold, the world and those closest to him look on with both awe and horror.
From the Paperback edition.
war, at enormous cost and to no advantage. That individual men and women still killed each other, when there were treatments that could dissipate the murderous tendencies in human beings. He found it contemptible that the science of genetic splicing was attacked by politicians and the news media as if tampering with biology were a corruption of some holy spirit. Especially when it was obvious that the human race as now genetically constituted was doomed. Dr. Annaccone had been briefed on what
there is not much difference in the human mind when it comes to deviousness.” “Still, it was maybe too clever,” Yabril said. “You broke the rules of the game. But of course it was not chess, the rules were not so strict. You were supposed to be a pawn with only a pawn’s moves.” Kennedy sat down and drank a bit of his coffee, a polite social gesture. Christian could see he was very tense, and, of course, to Yabril the seeming casualness of the President was transparent. Yabril wondered what the
country that is powerless to remain independent without the friendship of great powers. I can do nothing for you or against you.” Klee nodded his head in agreement. “Of course that is true. But Bert Audick came to visit you and I know that had to do with the oil industry. But let me tell you that Mr. Audick is in very serious trouble in the United States. He would be a very bad ally for you to have in the coming years.” “And you would be a very good ally?” the Sultan asked, smiling. “Yes,”
with one of the armed guards, who could wave her through the unscanned entry. Her lover was on guard duty this day; she had promised him lunch and a siesta in the back room of her shop. And so he had volunteered for the Easter Sunday duty. The lunch was already laid out on the table in the back room when she emptied the suitcase to pack the weapons in gaily colored Gucci gift boxes. She put the boxes into mauve paper shopping bags and waited until twenty minutes before departure time. Then,
sometimes took drugs. Jatney could always tell. She had such a lovely brilliant smile on drugs. She had smiled that way one night when he had been waiting up for her in Santa Monica. In that dawn light he had accused her of being in someone else’s bed. She had replied calmly, “Somebody had to fuck me, you won’t.” Christmas Eve they were still on the road and slept in another motel. It was cold now. They would not celebrate the Christmas season; Irene said that Christmas was false to the true