TW11 The Cleopatra Crisis NEW (21 page)

"Suppose we've got hostiles inside the house?" said Lucas. "We've got to consider worst case scenarios, such as if we blow our cover to the S.O.G."

Travers nodded. "Good point. What about the gardens down by the riverbank? Or the roof?"

“Use both," said Lucas. "The other thing we'll need is an arms cache. If we have to take on soldiers of the S.O.G., we'll need lasers and disruptors. Where can we keep them safely?"

"I've got that taken care of, too," said Travers. "I've got some concealed storage places underneath the floor in the library."

"Excellent." said Lucas. He glanced at the others. "Have I forgotten anything'!"

"What about a safe house?" asked Delaney. .

Lucas snapped his fingers. "Right. We'll requite a house or apartment somewhere in the city where we can hole up in case this place is compromised.”

"I'll see to it," said Travers.

"Anything else?" asked Lucas.

Delaney shook his head. "I think we've got it covered."

"I hope so," Lucas said. he made a tight-lipped grimace. "I have a feeling this is going to be a tough one. God knows, we've had a lot more dangerous missions before, but I don't think we've ever had one with so many variables. How the hell are we going to take out a dozen people who are constantly in the public eye without having anybody notice?"

"The answer to that one's simple," said Delaney. "We can't. Unless we can figure out some way to separate Caesar from his bodyguards on March fifteenth, it's going to get messy.”

“Maybe we'll get lucky," Andre said.

They simply stared at her.

"On the other hand," she said wryly. "maybe not.”

Marshall jumped about a foot when Simmons suddenly materialized in his bedroom. He'd been sitting on his bed, with his door bolted, nervously smoking a cigarette, when the Network cell chief suddenly appeared before him.

"Christ, Simmons, you gave me a start!" said Marshall, exhaling heavily. "You should be more careful. What if I'd had a girl in here?"

"That would've been too bad for her.” said Simmons flatly. He was dressed in black commando fatigues and there was a laser pistol in a tanker-style holster at his shoulder. "I'd suggest you curtail your sexual diversions for the time being. You've got more important things to worry about. Did you know you're being watched?"

"I'm being
watched
?" said Marshall. stunned.

"That's right." said Simmons. "I thought you said they didn't suspect you."

"But . . I don’t see how they could!” Protested Marshall. "I haven't done anything to alert them or give myself away! I swear!"

"You must have done something," Simmons said. He looked at Marshall's cigarette with distaste. "Those filthy things are going to kill you."

"If I don't die of a damn heart attack first, from you popping in here like that," Marshall said. "I need these. They're my only remaining connection with the world I came from. An Underground connection picks them up for me. They help steady my nerves."

"Well, you'd better lay in a good supply, then," Simmons said. "You'll need your nerves steady. I see Steiger's left the house.”

"You've got him under surveillance?"

"Of course. You think we're playing games here? Snap out of it. Marshall, for Christ's sake. Start thinking straight. What happened? Why did he leave?"

Marshall glanced down at the floor and took a nervous drag off his unfiltered cigarette. "He wanted me to provide him with a separate safe house."

Simmons regarded him steadily. "That's not all of it. What aren't you telling me?"

Marshall hesitated.

Simmons suddenly stepped forward and grabbed him by his tunic, lifting him up off the bed. There was a sound of ripping cloth. "Don't fuck with me, Marshall," he said in a low voice, through clenched teeth. "I could do this just as easily without you. Get my drift?"

"All right, all right! Let go of me!"

Simmons released him and stepped back. "Let's hear it," he said. "
All
of it."

"He found out I drugged him the other night."

"How? I thought you said he wouldn't suspect a thing?"

"I don't
know
how!" Marshall said. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "That stuff wasn't supposed to have any aftereffects and I know he couldn't have tasted it in the wine. But he figured it out somehow. He's good. He always was."

"So you gave yourself away," said Simmons with contempt. "How come you're still alive?"

Marshall shook his head. "When he confronted me with it, I was sure he was going to kill me. But he hasn't put it all together. He thought I'd gotten paranoid and drugged him so that I could kill him while he was out, because I was afraid he'd turn me in. I let him think that and convinced him I couldn't go through with it. That I'd lost my nerve. Since I hadn't gone through with it, I guess he felt he owed me something. So he said he'd stay in the apartment and he wasn't going to contact me again. As soon as I walked out the door, he'd forget I existed." Marshall sighed. "He said I didn't have to worry about him coming after me. I wasn't worth it."

"That's it?" asked Simmons skeptically.

"That's it."

"He must be getting soft."

"That's funny," Marshall replied dryly. "That's almost the same thing he said."

"You're lucky. It looks as if no real damage was done. All we've got to do is keep him under surveillance and take him out at the appropriate time."

"You'd better tell your people to be careful," Marshall said. "I wouldn't count on Steiger getting soft. He just let me slide for old times' sake. He's still the best damn field agent the T.I.A. ever had. If they get too close, he'll spot them."

"Don't worry," Simmons said. "I'm not about to underestimate him. What concerns me now is that surveillance on you. They must have caught on to you somehow."

"Unless Steiger told them about me. I can't see how,” said Marshall. "Even after what's happened, I don't believe he'd do that. He'd have to break his cover to blow the whistle on me."

"So what? I don't see how it would jeopardize his mission if he revealed himself to the adjustment team."

Marshall shook his head. "No. he wouldn't do that. I know Steiger. He's never been a team player. His whole purpose in being here is to prove to Forrester that the agency still needs the covert field section. He won't let the adjustment team know he's here unless it's absolutely necessary. You have to understand what drives him. He wants to go back to covert field work. Alone, in deep cover. Just the way his old mentor, Carnehan, always used to do it. The Mongoose and Steiger were cut from the same cloth. Both mavericks. Both in it for the thrill. Steiger's going to do things his own way. If the adjustment team stays in control of the situation, he'll hold off and cover them. If they blow it, he'll take Caesar out himself."

"Well, if Steiger hasn't told them about you. then obviously something you've done has put them on to you."

"I tell you. I haven't done anything that would make them suspect I'm part of the Underground, much less the Network," Marshall insisted.

"Maybe not," said Simmons. "otherwise I can't see any reason why they wouldn't simply move in and apprehend you. But you must have done something to arouse their suspicion. Think. What have you done recently that might have drawn their attention to you?"

Marshall shook his head. "I tell you. I can't think of anything!"

“You had to have done something."

Marshall shrugged helplessly.

"Have you done anything different lately? Anything that was out of your ordinary pattern of existence? Anything at all?"

Marshall frowned. "The only thing I've done recently that I've never done before was fix a chariot race."

Simmons frowned. "When?"

"A couple of days ago. But I can't see how they could possibly know about that."

"Why did you do that'"

"It was Steiger's idea. He knows I've had contact with Marc Antony and he wanted to use that contact to get next to Caesar. So he had me fix the race so he could take Antony for a bundle, which would give him the chance to play the gracious winner and entertain Antony and his friends on his winnings."

"And you haven't done anything else out of the ordinary?"

"Nothing."

"Then that must have been it. Somehow they figured out the race was fixed and that you fixed it."

“I don't get it," Marshall said. "Even if they found that out, and I don't see how the hell they could have, why should that make them suspect me of anything other than being a crook?"

"You're not thinking. Marshall. They're on the lookout for any pattern of events that could connect to Caesar. If you arranged for Steiger to win a conspicuous amount of money from Marc Antony and that led to Antony introducing him to Caesar, it was something that would obviously attract their attention. Especially since Steiger came out of nowhere and suddenly he's interacting with key figures in this scenario."

"So that's what that invitation from Septimus was all about!" said Marshall with sudden realization. “that's why they asked me to bring the charioteers! They wanted to have a chance to look us over!"

"Who's Septimus'?"

"He's an L.T.O. named Travers, who's been assigned to Caesar," Marshall explained. "Steiger warned me about him at the party. He wanted to make sure I kept my distance from him and the adjustment team."

"Oh. that's nice. Any other little details you conveniently forgot to mention?" Simmons asked dryly.

"I'm sorry. I meant to tell you about him, but—"

"But you were too busy worrying about your own skin."

"Okay, so I've been under a lot of pressure. You think it's been easy for me? Anyway, that must explain it. Septimus . . that is, Travers, knows who I am. I don't mean who I
really
am. I mean he knows who Marcian is. If they somehow tumbled to the fact that the race was fixed. Travers probably figured out that I was the only one in a position to do it. That must be why they're having me watched. They can't really know anything; they're just not taking any chances. They'd never recognize Steiger with his new face and they don't realize he's here undercover, backing them up."

"Then it follows that they'd have him under surveillance, too," said Simmons. "For all they know, he could be S.O.G. This is turning into a regular Chinese fire drill. If he's not careful, he's only going to wind up interfering with their mission."

"We can't allow that to happen." Marshall said. "A temporal disruption would affect us all.”

"You think I don't know that?" Simmons snapped. "If he spots the surveillance they've put on him, he's either going to figure out they're working at cross-purposes and break cover, or he'll think it's the S.O.G. and take out whoever they've got watching him. Then they'll be convinced that he's the opposition, and by the time they get everything straightened out, it could be too late."

"So what are we going to do?" asked Marshall.

"I'm almost tempted to play them off against each other," Simmons said. "It would really be something to make Steiger's plan backfire on him and have his own friends take him out for us. But with the S.O.G. around, that would be taking too much of a chance. We're just going to have to get Steiger to break cover and start working with the others before he screws everything up."

"But then he won't be on his own anymore," said Marshall. "He won't be as vulnerable. If you try to move against him then, he'll have the adjustment team to back him up."

"So we'll simply wait until they've completed their adjustment." Simmons said. "Then, if necessary, we'll take them all out."

"You must be crazy," Marshall said. "Going up against Steiger's bad enough, but I'm not about to try to take on a whole adjustment team!"

"No one's asking you to." said Simmons. "You let me worry about that."

"Yeah? And suppose you blow it? They'll he coming after me! Unh-unh. There's no way I'm going to take that kind of chance. I'm the one who's got the most to lose here. You want to take out Steiger. fine, but you stay away from that adjustment team!"

"Or else what?" asked Simmons softly.

"You just stay away from them, that's all. I'm not about to risk everything that I've built up here just because you want to be a cowboy, Simmons. Remember, I'm the one who called you in. I'm the one who gave you Steiger on a platter. And I'm going to be the one to call the shots."

"I don't think so." Simmons said.

He drew his laser and shot Marshall in the chest.

It was one of the most fascinating evenings Lucas had ever spent. It was an intimate party, himself and Andre. Travers, Caesar and Cleopatra. The Queen of Egypt had provided a sumptuous repast, seven courses served with excellent Greek wines. A trio of musicians played softly and unobtrusively throughout the meal on cithara, lyre, and pan pipe. There were no jugglers or acrobats or midget wrestlers, merely silent and attentive slaves who brought them food and kept their goblets filled, under the watchful eye of Apollodorus.

Caesar was relaxed and loquacious in Cleopatra's presence. He was delighted to discover that "Marcus" was a student of his campaigns and they spent long hours discussing his wars against the Helvetii and the Nervii, the invasion of Gaul by the German tribes, the campaigns against Vercingetorix and the Aedui and the civil war against Pompey. Lucas quickly realized why Travers had such affection for the man and why Caesar's soldiers had always felt such a fierce loyalty toward him. Caesar had an enormous amount of charisma. He was a man of strong personality. He was quick-witted, with a sense of humor, an unintimidating manner, and a way of knowing how to make people feel comfortable around him. He was a fascinating and compelling conversationalist, but he also knew how to listen, an ability rarely found in men with large egos. He conveyed a sense of tremendous forcefulness and drive that was restrained. yet capable of being unleashed at any time. As Andre put it later, he was, quite simply, a very sexy man.

Lucas was constantly aware of Apollodorus throughout the evening. And of Caesar's Egyptian bodyguard. Most of them were stationed outside, but there were four of them present during the meal, two on either side of each entrance to the room. Their eyes never left the party at the table. Several times, Lucas caught Apollodorus staring at him intently. He smiled at him, but got no response. Apollodorus remained impassive. Caesar noticed Lucas glancing at the guards and gave Lucas and Travers the opening that they'd been waiting for.