The Lance (The PROJECT: Book Two) (9 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Elizabeth sat at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee, watching Selena load the dishwasher. Something was bothering her, and it wasn't whether the forks should point up or down. Ronnie and Stephanie were in the computer room. Selena closed the appliance door. The machine began to cycle.

"Tell me about you and Nick," Elizabeth said.

Selena brushed hair away from her forehead. "What about Nick?"

"How serious are you?"

"That's the second time someone's asked me. Ronnie wanted to know."

"Does it bother you that I ask?"

Selena didn't answer.

"Because it's important. I have to know that whatever there is between you isn't going to get in the way."

"In the way?"

"Of what we do. Of what Nick has to do. Of what you have to do. Don't misunderstand me. You've been fine and I'm thrilled you're part of the team. I just need to know emotions aren't going to affect your judgment."

Selena sat down and sighed. "I don't know what to tell you. You asked how serious it is. He's the first man I've met in a long time that doesn't run the other way because he thinks I'm smarter than he is or too independent. So, yes, it's serious enough that I want to give it a shot. Is that what you want to know?"

"Part of it."

Selena got up, got coffee, sat down again.

"Can I talk to you as a friend, instead of a boss?"

Elizabeth looked at her. "Of course you can."

"I can handle the emotional part. What I'm having trouble with isn't Nick." She paused. "My uncle was the only family I had. When he was killed, I felt lost. Alone."

Elizabeth nodded.

"Since then everything's changed. You and Ronnie and Steph and Nick, you're my family now. Except we all carry guns and now the good guys may turn out to be bad guys. It's all upside down. People keep trying to kill my lover. I'm staying in a house with bullet proof windows. I don't know what's happening, I'm not in control and I can't do anything except react. It's making me crazy."

"It does take some getting used to," Elizabeth said. The way she said it made Selena laugh.

"Do you ever get used to it?"

"Sort of."

"I feel...vulnerable. If something happens to Nick, or any of us. I'm not sure how I'd handle that."

"That's honest, what you just said. I used the wrong word, earlier. It's not about emotions, it's about feelings. You have them, you deal with them, you keep going. You take it as it comes. You'll handle it, I'm sure, no matter what. You did that in Tibet.
I made the right choice when I let you on the team."

"How do you handle it?"

"I compartmentalize. One thing at a time, more or less. If you think about everything at once it can overwhelm you. I don't let personal feelings get in the way."

"Yes, but you have them."

"Sure. But I've learned to put them away. So has Nick. So has Ronnie. And so have you."

"What do you mean?"

"How did you feel in Tibet? You killed people."

The words hung like a bright neon sign in the air between them. Selena said nothing.

"We see the worst side of things," Elizabeth said. "We never know what's going to happen and we have to keep a clear head"

"I can't pretend I don't have feelings. About Nick."

"I know. But if they get in the way you could make a mistake. It could  kill you. Or Nick. There is something that balances things out a little."

Selena looked at Elizabeth.

"We can trust each other and channel our feelings into that. It's what makes any team work."

"Who else do we trust?"

"No one."

"That's cynical."

"That's reality."

"What keeps you doing this?" Selena asked.

Elizabeth thought about it. "I think everyone deserves a chance at some kind of justice. The people we go after don't believe that. Somebody's got to try and stop them."

Selena looked away, out the kitchen window. It was night. There wasn't much to see.

"I wonder what Nick's doing now?" she said.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

People milled about in the corridor. Nick watched a
medical team load Rivka onto a gurney. They'd given her a shot of something and she was out of it, her dusky skin the color of milk. He called Ari.

"
Is she all right?"

"S
he's badly wounded. The medics are here, she's on her way to Hadassah."

"How did it happen
?"

"
We went through the door of my room and someone started shooting from the balcony. We fired and he went over the edge. She took one all the way through."

"
You?"

"
He missed." Nick thought of Rivka taking a bullet meant for him. It wasn't a good thought.

"S
tay where you are," Ari said. "I'll be there in ten minutes."

Down the hall, three men and a woman in dark suits and earpieces
made their way toward him.

"
I may not be here. I see Secret Service coming. They're going to want some answers."

"
Ten minutes." Ari hung up.

The four agents stopped in front of
Nick. They didn't look friendly.

The lead man was over six feet tall and
purposeful, with a face that had serious all over it. His eyes were like ice. He was around forty, clean-shaven even this late in the day. He had a high forehead and a combination of green eyes and red hair that said Ireland in the background somewhere.

"
You're Carter?"

It wouldn
't take a rocket scientist to know who he was. They'd only needed to check the hotel register.

"
Yes."

"
Calloway." He flashed his ID and gave a pointed look at Nick's holstered H-K. "Hand over your weapon, please."

The other agents wait
ed to see what he would do. The hallway was filling up with police, Secret Service, spies and who knew what. It reminded him of a scene from a Bogart movie. The only thing missing was Sydney Greenstreet.

A
large Israeli police officer wearing the insignia of a Sergeant Major stepped in front of Calloway.

"
Just a minute. We are in charge, here." His English was heavily accented. He turned to Nick, said, "Give me your pistol, please." He had his right hand on his holstered weapon, the strap snapped back and the hammer cocked, his left hand held out for the gun.

Agent Calloway was cool before, but now he turned glacial.
"The President's security takes precedence here. This man will come with us."

"
I don't think so. You are on Israeli sovereign territory. This is our country, not yours. Your President is upstairs and quite safe. This man is in our custody." He turned back to Nick. "Your weapon, please."

Nick carefully lifted his
.45 out of the holster, using a thumb and one finger on the grip, and held it out to the Israeli. He took it, nodded once in satisfaction. Calloway's expression looked like he'd been forced to drink vinegar.

The agents crowded in and the tension level in the hall went up. Several Israeli policemen moved closer.
Then a commanding voice cut through the noise in the hall.

"
That's enough!"

President
James Rice was coming down the corridor, thirty feet away. He wore tan slippers and an unbuttoned gray cardigan vest over a blue shirt and casual slacks. Three more grim faced agents were with him. Calloway straightened. All sound died away. Down the hall, a woman in a pink robe and hair curlers peered out of her room.

The President had the kind of presence people expect of the single most powerful politician in the world. With Rice, it was more than political practice.
He radiated command and confidence. An intense energy belied his sixty-seven years. He was just under six feet tall, with silver hair still showing a few strands of black. His penetrating, hazel eyes didn't miss anything.

Calloway stepped forward.
"Mr. President. Sir, you shouldn't be here."

"
It's all right, John, I know who this man is. He is not a threat."

Rice looked at
Nick. "A short time ago I received a phone call from Director Harker. When I heard what happened down here, I decided to see for myself."

The President
was known for hands-on involvement with anything he deemed important. It drove his advisors and his security details crazy.

"
Mr. President," Nick said. "Sir, if I could have a few moments, I need to speak with you."

"
All in good time, Carter, all in good time. Sergeant." He nodded at the police officer. "It is Sergeant, isn't it? Please return Mr. Carter's weapon to him."

The Israeli policeman was at a loss as to what he should do. He opened his mouth to speak, closed it.
Just then Ari came down the hall, his Shin Bet ID held high in front of him. The crowd parted before him like the red sea before Moses. He stopped in front of the policeman.

"
Sergeant Major, I think you had better do as the American President suggests."

The
Israeli cop started to say something, thought better of it and gave the pistol back, butt first. The woman agent had moved to the side of the President and was talking into her microphone, holding one hand against her earpiece, the other on her holstered Glock, watching Nick the way a cat watches a mouse.  

"
You are…?" Rice looked at Ari.

"
Ari Herzog, Mr. President, Shin Bet. Mr. Carter and I have been working together. One of my operatives was with him and injured when they were attacked. It's an unfortunate incident. We'll pursue it. "

"
Shin Bet. You believe this was a terrorist operation of some sort?"

"
Mr. President. We—Mr. Carter and I—have been concerned about your safety. It's possible this attack has something to do with your presence here in my country."

Rice sighed.
"Thank you, Mr. Herzog. I regret the trouble my visit causes you. I hope your agent recovers quickly." Rice paused. "Perhaps you would allow me to take charge of Mr. Carter. I'm sure you have much to attend to."

It was a gracious dismissal and an order at the same time.

"Of course, Mr. President. Nick, please contact me."

"
As soon as possible, Ari."

Rice said, "
This way, Carter." He turned and headed for the elevators, his detail flanked around him. Nick caught a hard look from Calloway, but the agent said nothing. Rice was the boss. There was no doubt about who was in charge.

The ride
up to the ninth floor was made in silence. Rice looked preoccupied. Calloway and his agents looked unhappy. Nick didn't know how he looked but decided to  keep his mouth shut and work at getting the sake under control. He had a vivid picture in his mind of Rivka lying on the floor of his room.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Touted as t
he most exclusive accommodations in Jerusalem, the Royal Suite where Rice was staying was twelve hundred square feet of carpeted luxury. Kings, Premiers and Presidents had all stayed here.

The main room
featured a grouping of white brocade chairs placed before a fireplace at one end. Sideboards, tables and elegant side chairs of polished hardwoods were arranged throughout. A windowed terrace swept the length of the entire suite, with a million dollar view of the Old City and its spotlighted battlements. Above the ancient walls, the deep black of the Judean night sky glowed with stars.

The suite
had separate reception rooms and a full kitchen. A large bedroom opened off a study furnished with a Chippendale style desk. Paintings in earth tones and grays dotted the walls. The room reeked of privileged elegance and money.

Rice led the way into the study
. He took a seat by the desk and gestured Nick to a chair. Calloway stood by the door, hands clasped in front of him. Nick half expected him to put on sunglasses, even though it was nighttime and indoors.

"
At ease, Carter, for God's sake. You're making me nervous."

"
Yes, sir." Nick made an effort to relax.

Now that they were in
the quiet privacy of the President's rooms, Nick could see how tired he was. Rice's eyes were fringed with red and there were deep shadows under them. The President was a man who needed sleep.

"
John," Rice said to Calloway, "we may have a situation."

"
Yes, Mr. President."

"Carter
." Rice took a sip of water from a bottle on his desk. "I don't think Director Harker is the kind of person who makes unfounded accusations or gets pulled into conspiracy fantasies. Would you agree?"

"
Yes, sir."

"
Are you aware of her concerns?"

"
Yes, sir. She believes General Dysart may be part of a conspiracy and that there may be a plot to assassinate you."

For an instant Calloway lost his mask of composure.
Good, Nick thought. The guy's human after all.

"Mr. President, someone
tried to kill me three times today and a deep cover source of ours was murdered before I could talk with him. Someone breached our security. No one was supposed to know I was here, but Dysart found out. Now he's running NSA and he tried to get Harker to call me off. It adds up to a lot of suspicion."

"
General Dysart took over General Hood's duties because he's in Walter Reed after suffering a stroke."

"Sir, he'd just
completed his annual physical and he was in fine health. How could he have a stroke?"

"
We're going to find out. I've directed his medical team to pursue detailed toxicology studies as well as the usual regimens. In any event, Director Harker was adamant that I am in danger. She said she is working on getting evidence Dysart is involved in a conspiracy."

"I
f something is there Harker will find it, Mr. President."

"
As of now, Carter, you are part of my immediate security detail until I leave Israel. I'm sure the Director can take care of herself. I want you close by and I want you armed."

T
here was only one possible response. "Yes, sir."

Rice glanced at Calloway.
"Okay with you, John?"

It wasn
't really a request, but it was typical of Rice to include others in decisions he had already made. Calloway was in a tough spot.

"
Of course, sir."

"
Good. Find a place for him to sleep. Put him up with our people. I want him with us tomorrow on the Temple Mount."

"
Yes, sir."

"
Mr. President, may I call Director Harker and tell her of our conversation? I also need to contact Shin Bet."

"
Use your discretion and get some sleep. You'll need it."

Time to
call Harker and Ari and then try to grab a few hours. Maybe he wouldn't dream.