‘As you can understand, Congressman,’ said the station chief, turning partially around in the seat beside the driver, ‘I don’t know what’s going on but I can tell you that a plane from Holmstead Air Force Base in Florida is on its way to take you back to Washington. It should arrive about five or ten minutes after we get to the airport.’
‘We know that,’ said Khalehla pleasantly.
‘It would have been here by now but they said there’s rotten weather in Miami and several commercial flights are on the same route. That probably means they wanted to stock up the aircraft properly for you, sir—I mean the two of you, of course.’
‘That’s most kind of them,’ said the field agent from Cairo, squeezing Evan’s hand, conveying the fact that he did not have to speak.
‘If there’s anything you think you might have left behind at the hotel, we’ll gladly take care of it—’
‘There’s nothing,’ exclaimed Kendrick, whispering harshly.
‘He means we’ve taken care of everything, thank you,’ said Khalehla, pulling Evan’s hand against her leg and grasping it even more firmly. ‘This is obviously an emergency and the congressman has a great deal on his mind. May I assume we’ve been cleared through customs?’
‘This parade is driving straight through the cargo gates,’ replied the government man, glancing briefly, closely at Kendrick then turning away as if he had unwittingly invaded another’s privacy. The rest of the trip was made in silence until the high steel gates of the cargo terminal swung open and the procession drove through over the tarmac to the end of the first runway.
‘The F-106 from Holmstead should be landing soon,’ said the station chief.
‘I’m getting out.’ Evan reached for the handle of the door and yanked it back. It was locked.
‘I’d rather you didn’t, Congressman Kendrick.’
‘Let me out of this car.’
‘Evan, it’s his job.’ Khalehla gently but firmly held Kendrick’s arm. ‘He has to go by the rules.’
‘Do they include suffocating me?’
‘I’m breathing fine—’
‘You’re not me!’
‘I know, darling. No one can be you right now.’ Rashad angled her head and looked out of the rear window, scanning the terminal’s buildings and the grounds. ‘Our status is as clean as it could be,” she said, turning back to the intelligence officer. ‘Let him walk. I’ll stay with him and so can the men.’
‘A “clean status”? You’re one of us?’
‘Yes, but you’ve already forgotten me, please… The flight to Washington’s going to be rough enough.’
‘Sure. We’re okay. The guy who made up this rule isn’t here. He just said, “Don’t let him out of that vehicle”, in a very loud voice.’
‘MJ can be extreme.’
‘MJ…? Come on, let’s get some air. Release the doors, please, driver.’
‘Thank you,’ said Evan quietly to Khalehla. ‘And I’m sorry—’
‘You don’t have a damn thing to be sorry about. Just don’t make a liar out of me and get shot. It could ruin my day… Now I’m sorry. It’s no time for dumb wisecracks.’
‘Wait a minute.’ Kendrick began to open the door then stopped, his face inches from hers in the shadows. ‘A few moments ago you said that no one could be me right now and I agree. But that said, I’m awfully glad you’re you. Right now.’
They walked in a brief Bahamian drizzle, talking quietly, the CIA officer a polite distance behind, the guards flanking them with ominously drawn side arms. Suddenly, from out of the cargo area, a small dark car came racing across the field, its high-pitched engine screaming. The guards converged on Evan and Khalehla, shoving them to the ground, the CIA officer throwing himself over Kendrick and pulling the Rashad woman into his side. As quickly as the panic started, it stopped. There were rapid blasts of a two-note siren; the car was an airport vehicle. The leader of the motorcycle escort holstered his weapon and approached the uniformed man who climbed out of the small car. They talked quietly and the police officer returned to the stunned Americans, who were getting to their feet.
There is an emergency telephone call for your friend, sir,’ he said to the station chief.
‘Patch it out here.’
‘We have no such equipment.’
‘I want something better than that.’
‘I was told to repeat the letters “MJ”.’
‘That’s better enough,’ said Khalehla. ‘I’ll go with him.’
‘Hey, come on,’ countered the CIA man. ‘There are other rules, too, and you know them as well as I do. It’s a lot easier securing a single than a double. I’ll go and take four men. You stay here with the others and cover for me, okay? This is the meeting ground and you could have a nervous pilot on your hands looking for some special luggage, mainly you.’
The telephone was on the wall of a deserted warehouse. The call was transferred and the first words Kendrick heard from Mitchell Payton caused every muscle in his body to lock, his mind on fire.
‘You’ve got to hear the worst. There was an assault on Mesa Verde—’
‘Christ, no!’
‘Emmanuel Weingrass is all right! He’s all right, Evan.’
‘Is he hurt? Wounded?’
‘No. In fact he did the wounding—the killing. One of the terrorists is still alive—’
‘I want him!’ shouted Kendrick.
‘So do we. Our people are on the way out there.’
‘Mesa Verde was the terrorists’ backup for Fairfax, wasn’t it?’
‘Unquestionably. But right now it’s also our only hope in tracking down the others. Whatever that survivor knows, he’ll tell us.’
‘Keep him alive.’
‘Your friend Weingrass has seen to it.’
‘Strip him for cyanide.’
‘It’s been done.’
‘He can’t be left alone for a minute!’
‘We know that.’
‘Of course you do,’ said Evan, closing his eyes, his face drenched with sweat and rain. ‘I’m not thinking, I can’t think. How’s Manny taking it?’
‘With considerable arrogance, to be truthful.’
‘That’s the first decent news I’ve heard.’
‘You’re entitled to it. He was truly remarkable for a man of his age.’
‘He was always remarkable… at any age. I’ve got to get out there. Forget Washington. Fly me directly to Colorado.’
‘I assumed you would make that request—’
‘It’s not a request, Mitch, it’s a demand!’
‘Of course. It’s also the reason why your plane is delayed. The Air Force has punched up the fuelling for Denver and points west and is clearing a flight plan above the commercial routes. The aircraft has a maximum speed of Mach two point three. You’ll be home in less than three hours, and remember, say nothing to anyone about Fairfax. Weingrass has already contained Mesa Verde.’
‘How?’
‘Let him tell you.’
‘Do you really think you can keep everything quiet?’
‘I will if I have to go to the President myself, and at this point I don’t think there’s any alternative.’
‘How will you get past the palace guard?’
‘I’m working on that. There’s a man I studied with years ago in my early life as a would-be historian. We’ve kept in touch in a casual way and he has a great deal of influence. I think you know the name. It’s Winters, Samuel Winters—’
‘Winters? He’s the one who told Jennings to give me the Freedom Medal in that crazy ceremony.’
‘I remembered. It’s why I thought of him. Have a good flight, and my love to my niece.’
Kendrick walked to the warehouse door where his police escort stood, two inside, two outside, their weapons levelled in front of them. Even the CIA’s station chief, who in the dim light looked as though he might be Bahamian himself, held a small revolver in his hand. ‘You people always carry those things?’ asked Evan without much interest.
‘Ask your friend who knew that the “status was clean”,’ replied the intelligence officer, waving Kendrick through the door.
‘You’re joking. She has one?’
‘Ask her.’
‘How did she get on the plane in the States? The metal detectors, then customs over here?’
‘One of our little secrets, which isn’t so secret. A luggage or customs supervisor just happens to show up when we’re passing through and the detector is shut down for a couple of seconds, and with customs an immigration inspector is alerted as to what not to find.’
‘That’s pretty loose,’ said Kendrick, climbing into the official airport car.
‘Not in nearby places like this. The supervisors not only work for us but they’re monitored. Farther away our equipment is waiting for us inside.’ The station chief sat beside Evan in the back seat of the small car and the driver sped out to the runway.
The huge, sleek military jet known as the F-106 Delta Dart had arrived, its engines idling in a bass roar as Khalehla stood by a ramp of metal steps talking with an Air Force officer. It was only as he approached the two of them that Kendrick recognized the type of aircraft he was about to enter; it was not a calming recognition. The jet was similar to the one that had flown him to Sardinia over a year ago, the first leg on his journey to Masqat. He turned to the intelligence officer walking beside him and extended his hand.