Presidential Donor (16 page)

"One can only imagine, comrade," one of the doctors said. "They must be infinitely important."

Eva managed to jostle a can of coffee off her counter before they'd ran out, and now she was in the tiny kitchen of the cabin fumbling with the old stainless steel pot; the kind with the metal filter and the glass ball on top. She hadn't seen one of those since she was a kid. Her mother would often brew coffee for her father in the same type of pot. She smiled at the memory as she finally got it put together and poured the grounds in the top.

A half hour later the fresh aroma filled the cabin.

"Can that be coffee I smell?" Jonah asked.

"Nothing but," Eva said.

Jack took some fresh logs and restored the fire. Eva and Jonah joined him in front of it.

"Jack, are you a coffee drinker?" Jonah asked.

"Not usually, but under the circumstances I might just learn to be."

"Eva leaned in closer. "You should taste Jonah's coffee in his office. It's strong enough to bring his autopsy cases back to life."

"Come on now. You drink it." Jonah said.

That's because I'm as hooked as you are," Eva said, heading for the kitchen.

She came back a minute later with a big cupful for Jonah. "No cream, no sugar, just black like me." Jonah grinned.

Eva handed Jack his cup and he took a gulp. "That's pretty good."

Jonah looked at Eva. "He's hooked." They both laughed.

"Did you say you have a friend at the airport that can help us, Jonah?" Jack asked.

"Yes," his voice now taking a more serious tone. "Guy by the name of Howard Layton. Just goes by Howie. He's a good egg. He's also the main flight dispatcher for Zurich International. He can tell you what time your friend's plane will arrive. All flights are cleared through him. I know this because he tells me all the time what a pain in the ass it is to keep everything running smoothly."

"All right then, let's figure out how we can go see him," Jack said.

Warren Ritter was writing a memo when Charlie Lathbury walked in unannounced. "Charlie, I was just about to call you," Ritter said with false enthusiasm.

"Yea, I bet you were."

"You seem upset," Ritter said. He put his pen down as he leaned back in Bradley's leather armchair.

"You damn right I'm upset. What the hell is going on here? You and Cogswell are supposed to handle this situation and keep us informed. I got Dr. Gregg on our back. Gwen Lloyd is calling me every hour. To make matters worse, the press is unrelenting. And all you do is sit here and not tell me anything. I don't like you, Ritter, not a bit. But since you're
acting
President, and I emphasize,
acting
, that puts me, under your orders--temporarily--hopefully. Still, I'm not about to stand by while you and Cogswell sit idly, as our President dies. Now what the hell is going on?"

Ritter as usual, kept his cold-as-ice composure. Lathbury was of no consequence to him. When this was over he would promptly be replaced.

Until then, Ritter would play along until the game was played out.

"I assure you, Charlie, my concern for the President is just as great as yours. Cogswell and I are doing everything we can to bring this to a rapid conclusion."

Lathbury lowered his voice. "Just remember, there are other people involved here. And soon, they're gonna want some results. I suggest you come up with some answers quickly. All our necks are on the line here."

Ritter let it pass. Lathbury was already headed out the door. He didn't have time to argue with a peon. Lathbury was loyal to Lloyd, but also full of hot air. Cogswell could handle it.

Jack excused himself to the bathroom, while Eva and Jonah sat on the hearth.

"You like him, don't you? Jonah asked.

Eva felt herself blush "Is it that obvious?"

"Eva, how long have I known to you?"

"I don't know, five years, maybe."

"Five years. And in all those five years I've spent around you, don't you think I can see when you're interested in someone?" Jonah cocked his head and waited for an answer.

"You always know my secrets, Jonah. Yes, I
do
like him, but I wouldn't stretch it too much. We have much more important matters than who I like."

Eva had to admit her love life had been less than stellar since she came to Zurich. She'd been on a few dates with a fellow doctor, and had enjoyed a short fling with a ski instructor. But she'd quickly lost interest. Several other possible relationships ended the same way. Eva found them so egotistical that they never even got to know the slightest thing about her. They were totally self-absorbed. So she threw herself into her work and started to help Jonah at night instead of frequenting the ski resort clubs hoping to find
Mr. Right.

Now, though, since her fateful meeting with Jack, she began to mentally explore the possibilities of their future. He was sensitive, brave, and boyishly handsome. And on top of all that, Jack exuded a wry humor that eased her fears in this tense situation. She was beginning to realize she'd had entirely too little laughter in her life lately. Eva could tell he liked her, too. The way he looked at her, and seemed to appreciate her intelligence. She tried not to wear her feelings on her sleeve, as usual though, Jonah read her like a book.

Yes, she liked Jack, all right--a lot.
She stood and brushed her hands across the front of her pants as if trying to take out the wrinkles. She looked at Jonah with her deep-set blue eyes. "Like I said, we have more important matters right now."

"Yea, we sure do," Jonah said.

Did her fear show?
She wanted to put her arms around Jonah and hug him like a father. Even though he treated her as an equal, a colleague, to her, he was a father figure. Especially when her vulnerability surfaced.

Jonah gave her a long look. "We'll get through this, Eva, I promise. We'll get through it."

When Jack came back into the room, he smiled at Eva. At that instant, she realized he must have heard the entire conversation between her and Jonah.

She could only hope her feelings weren't in vain.

Judging by the smile on Jack's face,
they weren't
.

Having come this far, Jack suddenly felt apprehensive, wondering if he could actually pull this off. If Howie Layton, the flight dispatcher, could help them get Steve's plane in and out, without the government thugs knowing, he just might. Beyond that, Jack had run out of options.

At the moment, the sun had jumped behind the clouds and left the air chillier than earlier as he and Jonah trudged through the wet snow toward the bus stop. Jonah shoved his hands down in his pockets. "It's not much further."

"You think this is gonna work?" Jack asked.

Jonah looked him in the eye. "It'd better."

As they got closer to the main highway, Jack felt his anxiety growing. He knew the pursuers wouldn't give up that easy. He had heard the horror stories about the CIA and some of their covert activities.
Being the focus of one of them was a whole different matter!
One he didn't wish to contemplate.

"There's the bus stop ahead," Jonah said.

Jack's pulse quickened. "Finally."

"The bus runs every fifteen-minutes to the airport from the ski areas," Jonah said.

Jack suddenly brimmed with new hope. "Look, Jonah, talk about good timing."

No sooner had they got to the stop, then the bus pulled up and they boarded. Jack gazed at the busload of passengers staring back at him. Jonah pulled out a couple of tokens and paid the fare.

Jack's mind was filled with images of the CIA, Steve's arriving plane, and an end to this
nightmare
.

Mostly young people with skis and suitcases filled the bus. Every seat was occupied, so Jack walked to the back. He stood beside a pretty blond coed who immediately smiled at him.

"How's your trip?" the girl asked.

"Fine," Jack said, surprised by her candidness.

"Skiing's great isn't it?"

"Oh it's unbelievable," Jack said, hardly able to keep his ordeal to himself.

"Looks like you had a tumble," she said.

Jack had completely forgotten about his bruised face, and for a minute didn't know what the girl meant. "Oh, that, yea, beginner's bad luck."

Staring out the window, Jack noticed the scenery for the first time since he had left the hospital. The bus passed much of the old part of Zurich, where large castles influenced by French architecture surrounded winter gardens in full bloom. As he took in the view from the bus window he realized someone was staring at him. Jack felt his muscles go ridged. He looked around and saw a guy who looked out of place. No skies, no suitcase, and most definitely,
American clothes
. Jack turned back to the window and glanced over his shoulder. He breathed a sigh of relief when the passenger got off at the next stop.
Paranoid
, Jack told himself, after the man left.

A few minutes later the bus pulled up to the main airport terminal.

The coed gathered up her things and excused herself. "Hope you have better luck with the rest of your trip," she said.

"Yea, me too," Jack said, giving a reluctant smile.
He hoped her words would be prophetic.

Jonah met Jack as he stepped off the bus. "Howie's office is on the upper level."

"Do you think he'll be there?" Jack asked.

"He's always there. It's
that
kind of job."

The lobby bustled with activity. People pushed and shoved in every direction lugging travel bags and ski carriers. Jonah located a row of phones next to the bathrooms. He called Howie Layton while Jack held up the wall next to him. When Jonah picked up the receiver, Jack nudged him. Something had snagged his attention.

"What's with the crowd around the TV?"

A knot of people had gathered around the large screen TV suspended from the ceiling in the lobby. Jonah placed the phone back in the cradle and followed Jack over to the commotion. A picture of an airliner appeared in the upper right hand corner of the screen.

A special report was being broadcast by CNN.

"Officials at this time are trying to determine what caused a jetliner to drop off the radar screen over the Swiss Alps, east of Zurich."

"Jesus," Jack said. "That's right here."

Before the report had even finished, people bolted to the nearest ticket counter in near panic. All Jack could hear were frightened travelers, inquiring about arriving flights. As he listened, he realized the ticket agents had no more information than the reporter on TV had given them.

The report went on to say that a large explosion had been heard over Plateau Knoll, a popular ski area east of Zurich. They also mentioned unconfirmed reports of flaming debris falling to earth. The report finished with the usual promise of "more details to come".

"Well," Jonah said. "Looks like we picked a bad time to see Howie.

Normally, I would be in charge of handling the setting up of a temporary morgue to process all the bodies when they find the plane. Under the circumstances, though, I'd say I'm off the hook."

For several seconds, although Jonah was still talking, all Jack could hear was the blood rushing to his head. He was staring across the terminal at the passenger he'd seen on the bus. The man kept bringing his hand up to his mouth every few seconds, and then he'd look back at Jack.

Jack stood petrified. "I think we'd better get out of here, Jonah."

"Something wrong?"

"You see that guy over there," Jack motioned with a slight movement of his head.

By the time Jonah looked, a second man had joined the first. Now, both were glaring at Jack.

"I recognize the one on the left," Jonah said. "Let's go."

An airport baggage handler wheeled a fully stacked cart in front of Jack and Jonah. Ducking behind it, when it reached the glass door, they bolted for the parking lot. Jack looked back and the men seemed confused for a moment.

Then they spotted him, and were flying out of the terminal.

Jack heard loud shrieks behind him as the men flattened anyone in their path. Jack lost Jonah Bailey in the maze of cars and taxis in the parking lot.

A minute later, he found him leaning against a car gasping for breath.

"You know," Jonah said, "if we keep this up, I'm gonna be the one who needs a transplant."

* * *

Three floors above the parking lot, Howie Layton sat frozen in his chair.

"We'll tell you exactly what to say when the time comes."

"Who are you people?" Layton asked.

"That's not your business."

Layton bristled. "The hell it's not. I'm the dispatcher for this airport. I just lost a plane, and you people waltz in here and tell me to forget it. You must be crazy."

"Mr. Layton, is it? I work for the United States government. And what you need to know is that this is a matter of national security. It is in your best interest to do exactly as we tell you."

Denton Cogswell leaned in close to Layton's face, his eyes as black as a great white. "Do you understand?"

Layton cringed inwardly. He didn't know who these people were, but he felt sure he'd better cooperate if he wanted to see another day.

"Okay" he said.

Cogswell grinned. "Good. Now, here is what you are going to say."

On runway nine at Andrews Air Force Base, the jet with the designation of Air Force Two was standing by with engines already whining on idle when Ron Fletcher, along with two FBI escorts, and two Secret Service agents arrived.

Less than two-hours after the fax had arrived he'd been called to the White House and informed of the shocking document and its ramifications.

By that time, it had already been sent to Langley and authenticated. They'd concurred; it was unprecedented in modern history. "Congratulations, Speaker Fletcher, you are now acting President."

Now, as the big jet lumbered toward the runway, Fletcher could still hear the echo of the lawyers in the West Wing...