From the floor.
Beneath the tables.
And then he realized.
EIGHTY-FOUR
WASHINGTON, DC
STEPHANIE HEARD THE GUNFIRE, BUT NO BULLET STRUCK HER. Then she saw the hole in the side of Brent Green’s head and realized what had happened.
She turned.
Heather Dixon stood, gun in hand.
Green’s body thudded to the hardwood floor, but she continued to watch Dixon, who lowered her weapon.
Cassiopeia walked up behind the Israeli.
“That’s the end of that,” Dixon said.
Stephanie caught Cassiopeia’s attention. “What happened?”
“When you and Green went back to the office, she appeared. We were right. Green brought a few friends, who were waiting out back. The Secret Service grabbed them and then”-Cassiopeia pointed at Dixon-“she came inside.”
Stephanie understood. “You’re working with the president?”
“Had to be done. This bastard was going to sell us all out. He and your vice president could well have started a world war with what they planned.”
She sensed something from the tone and wanted to know, “What about you and Daley?”
“I liked Larry. He approached us for help, told us what was happening, and he and I got to be close. Believe it or not, he was trying to stop things. You have to give him that.”
“Been a whole lot easier if you both had just come to me with what you had.”
Dixon shook her head. “That’s your problem, Stephanie. You live in this idealistic bubble. You hated Larry. You didn’t like Green. You thought the White House didn’t like you. How were you going to be able to do anything?”
“But she made the perfect bait,” Cassiopeia said. “Didn’t she?”
“Every line needs a lure, and you two were this one’s.”
Stephanie still held the CD she’d planted in Daley’s office. The disk was blank. Just something to get Green to react. “They get everything on tape out there?” She’d been wired before they left Camp David.
Cassiopeia nodded. “All of it.”
“What about the Saudis?” she asked Dixon. “You were working with them when we first talked.”
“Typical Arabs. Playing both sides. They were originally in league with the vice president, thinking he was going to help stop anything relating to the Alexandria Link. Then they figured out that was bullshit. So they back-channeled to us and we made a deal. On the mall that day, they were there just to spur you on, nothing more. Of course, none of us was aware that you’d acquired a partner.” Dixon motioned with the gun at Cassiopeia. “I still owe you one for that dart.”
“Maybe one day you’ll get the chance to repay me.”
Dixon smiled. “Maybe.”
Stephanie stared at the body of Brent Green. She recalled how he’d suggested that he might be interested in her and how, for a moment, she’d liked the possibility. He’d actually defended her, supposedly been willing to resign in order to stand with her, and she’d found herself questioning all the doubts she’d harbored about him.
But it had all been an act.
“The president sent me to end this,” Dixon said, interrupting her thoughts. “No trials. No press. The attorney general was a troubled man who took his own life. His body will be cremated and a death certificate issued by military medical examiners. Suicide. He’ll be given a lavish burial and remembered fondly. End of story.”
“And the Alexandria Link?” she asked.
“George Haddad has disappeared. We’re hoping Malone has him. Haddad called Palestine months ago, then again a few days ago. After the first time, and after Larry told me things, we latched on to Pam Malone. The Mossad planned to take Gary Malone. But our prime minister balked. Then the Order beat us to it. With Pam Malone tagged, we just followed. But that didn’t work out so well. Then all this happened. Daniels has assured us that nothing will come of anything. My government trusts him.”
“Has anyone heard from Cotton?”
Dixon shook her head. “The last we heard he parachuted down somewhere in the Sinai. But it doesn’t matter. If anything is found, the deal is we never hear about it.”
“And once Daniels is no longer president?” Cassiopeia asked.
“Should be forgotten by then. If not, Israel will do what it’s done for centuries. Fight like hell. We’ve managed and we’ll continue.”
And Stephanie believed that. But there was one other point. “The vice president. What about him?”
“From all we know, only Green, the VP, and Alfred Hermann understood exactly what was going to happen. When Green heard the conversation Larry recorded with the VP’s chief of staff, he panicked and asked the Saudis to take Daley out. In typical fashion, they never mentioned that to us or we would have stopped them. But you can’t trust an Arab.” Dixon paused. “You two showing up, meeting with Larry, panicked Green, and he convinced the Saudis to move on you, too. After Daniels stopped the attack, killing all the hired help, and now with Green gone, it’s all over for the Saudis.”
Stephanie pointed to Green. “What about this?”
“We have people waiting to take this piece of crap back to his house, where his body will be found later today. Larry’s death will not be attributed to any terrorist attack, as Green had planned.”
“That could prove tough. The car did explode.”
“The case will simply go down as unsolved. But it will have undertones, ones Daniels can exploit, like what these idiots had planned. I think Larry might actually like that one. He can still be of help, even from the grave.”
“You haven’t explained,” Cassiopeia said, “how this can be contained with the VP still around?”
Dixon shrugged. “That’s Daniels’s problem.” Then the Israeli found her cell phone, hit a button, and said, “Mr. President, Green’s dead, just as you wanted.”
EIGHTY-FIVE
SINAI PENINSULA
SABRE FIRED AT MALONE’S LEGS FORTY FEET AWAY. NONE OF the tables accommodated chairs, so his line of sight was clear. He wanted to cut the legs out from beneath his adversary, making the final kill easy.
He sent three bullets Malone’s way.
But the legs were gone.
Damn.
He rolled out from beneath the table to the next one, inched up to the top edge to find Malone, and saw nothing.
Then he knew.
MALONE HAD REALIZED THAT MCCOLLUM INTENDED TO shoot his legs and had leaped onto the nearest table an instant before three shots popped through the hall. Paperweights of golden quartz clattered to the floor. McCollum would almost instantly deduce what Malone had done, so he decided to turn the advantage his way.
He waited an instant, then rolled off and saw McCollum crouched behind one of the tables. He aimed and ticked off two shots, but McCollum shifted his position and used one of the thick pedestals for protection.
This shooting gallery was too open.
He darted behind a row of shelves that stood to his left.
“Not bad, Malone,” his adversary said from across the room.
“I try.”
“You’re not getting out of here.”
“We’ll see.”
“I’ve killed men better than you.”
He wondered if the talk was bravado or mind games.
Neither impressed him.
HADDAD LED PAM MALONE THROUGH THE LIBRARY, HEADING in the opposite direction from where Sabre and Malone had gone. They’d already heard shots. He needed to hurry. They entered the fifth hall, aptly named the Room of Life, symbolized by a mosaic cross with its upper vertical replaced by an egg-shaped oval.
He swept through and found the Room of Eternity, stopping at the exit doorway. Voices came down the corridor past the ninety-degree turn. Apparently the showdown was occurring in the Reading Room. Lots of tables, fewer shelves, more open space. Sabre’s walk through earlier had been for reconnaissance, and his opponent had noticed all the right things. He’d once done the same when fighting Jews. Always know your battlefield.