“Thank you,” he said sincerely. As he checked the cartridges and saw that it was fully loaded, he told the two women what he had overheard in the dome room.
“Mauritania’s planning a nuclear strike against Jerusalem?” Randi was shocked.
Jon nodded. “It sounds like a Russian medium-range tactical warhead, probably to minimize damage to the Arab countries around, but they’re going to be hurt, too. Bad. The fallout will probably be worse than at Chernobyl.”
“Mon Dieu,”
Theacute;regrave;se whispered, horrified. “All those poor people!” Randi’s eyes glinted. “I was inserted here from a missile cruiser out there about seventy miles. The USS Saratoga. I’ve got a dedicated radio, and they’re standing by for my call. That’s because we’ve got a real plan here. It’s not pretty, but it’ll stop these guys from any nuclear strikes, whether it’s against Jerusalem, New York City, or Brussels. We can go a couple of ways with it. If we can rescue Chambord and the computer, then they’ll come in and extract all of us. We like that option most.” She asked for confirmation that the apparatus she had seen in the room with Jon, Mauritania, Abu Auda, and the Chambords was the molecular prototype. When Jon said it was, she nodded. “If worse comes to worsthellip;” She hesitated and looked at Theacute;regrave;se.
“It can’t be any more unpleasant than what we’ve already been through, or what Mauritania plans, Mile. Russell.”
“We can’t let the DNA computer remain in their hands,” Randi said gravely. “There’s no wiggle room about that. No options.”
Theacute;regrave;se’s gaze narrowed, and she frowned. “So?”
“If it comes to it, the Saratoga has a Standard Missile SM-2 aimed square on the dome of the villa. Its purpose is to eliminate the DNA computer.”
“And the terrorists,” Theacute;regrave;se breathed. “They will die, too?”
“If they’re here, yes. Whoever’s there will die.” There was no emotion in Randi’s voice.
Jon had been watching the two women. He told Randi, “She understands.”
Theacute;regrave;se swallowed and nodded. “But my father. He was ready to stop them. He even stole a gun.” She turned toward the trail that led back to the villa. “You can’t kill him!”
“We don’t want to kill him or anyone” Randi began.
Jon said, “Let’s go with a combination of the options. I don’t want to take the time to try to get the computer out of there. But we can rescue Chambord, and then your people can extract us.”
“I like that,” Theacute;regrave;se said. “That’s what I want, too. But if worse comes to worst”her face seemed to pale in the moonlight”you must do what you have to, to prevent a catastrophe.”
Randi checked her watch. “I can give you ten minutes.” She pulled a short-range walkie-talkie from her backpack. “Take this. When you’ve got Chambord and you’re exiting the villa, call me. Then I’ll notify the Saratoga that it’s their turn.”
“Right.” He attached the walkie-talkie to his belt.
“I’m going with you,” Theacute;regrave;se told Jon.
“Don’t be stupid. You’re not trained. You’d just be”
“You may need my help with my father. Besides, you can’t stop me. What will you do, shoot me to keep me here?” She looked at Randi. “Give me a gun. I know how to use one, and I’ll hold up my end.”
Randi cocked her head, considering. She nodded. “Take my Beretta. It’s silenced. Here, take it, and go!”
Jon timed the passage of the guards, and when they turned the corner, he led Theacute;regrave;se in a fast run. They landed on either side of the front door and flattened themselves back. The interior guard emerged through the doorway. A single blow from Jon’s new Sig Sauer dropped him. Jon dragged the unconscious terrorist into the house as Theacute;regrave;se closed the door carefully, making only a small noise. He could hear a loud discussion from the direction of the dome room. It sounded as if a war council were in progress.
He signaled Theacute;regrave;se, and they sprinted across the broad tiled entry into the west wing of the old villa, not stopping until they reached the sharp turn toward the rear. They paused there, and Jon peered around the corner. He whispered in Theacute;regrave;se’s ear: “No guards. Come on.”
They dashed down the side hallway that was completely lined in magnificent mosaics, their pistols ready to fire if discovered. They stopped again, this time at the door to the former women’s quarters.
Jon was puzzled. “Still there’s no sign of a guard. Why’s that?” he whispered.
“Perhaps he’s in the room with Papa.”
“You’re probably right.” Jon tried the door. “It’s open. You go first. Tell them you were set free and sent back to make him work even harder. The guard may believe that.”
She nodded, understanding. “Here, take the gun. We don’t want to make them suspicious.”
Jon considered, then took the Beretta.
She straightened her shoulders and pushed the door open. She stepped in, crying out in French as she ran to him, the consummate actress: “Papa, are you all right? M. Mauritania said I should return”
Emile Chambord rotated in his desk chair and stared at Theacute;regrave;se as if he were seeing a ghost. Then he saw Jon slip in behind her, the two weapons in his hands, sweeping the room in search of guards. But there were none.
Mystified, Jon looked at Chambord. “Why aren’t you being guarded?”
The scientist shrugged. “Why would they need to watch me now? They had you and Theacute;regrave;se. I wasn’t going to destroy the prototype or escape and leave her, was I?”
Jon motioned sharply. “Let’s get you out of here. Come on.”
Chambord hesitated. “What about my computer? Are we leaving it?”
“Leave it, Father,” Theacute;regrave;se cried. “Hurry.”
Jon looked at his watch. “We’ve got only five minutes left. There’s no more time.” He grabbed Chambord’s arm and pulled the scientist until he started hurrying on his own. They ran down the corridors, from one to another until at last they reached the grand foyer. There were accusatory voices outside the front door. Either the unconscious guard had awakened, or he had been discovered.
“To the back!” Jon ordered.
They had gone halfway when they heard more angry voices, these from the distant dome room, and then the noise of many running feet. Jon shoved his Sig Sauer into his waistband next to where he had put Theacute;regrave;se’s Beretta. He pulled out the short-range walkie-talkie and pushed the Chambords to a window at the side of the villa.
“We’ll go this way. Hurry!” Herding them, he flicked on the walkie-talkie. Urgently he relayed the good news to Randi in a whisper: “We’ve got Chambord. We’re fine and will be out in a couple of minutes. Call in the strike.”
Randi had moved closer to the villa and was now crouched under a canopy of leaves in the shadows of the fragrant orange grove. She looked at her watch again, dreading the advance of the digital numbers. Damn. Heartsick, she saw that the ten minutes she had given Jon were up. The moon was behind a dark cloud, and the temperature was dropping. Still, she had broken out in a sweat. There were lights in the three windows of the female annex and under the towering dome, but she saw nothing else noteworthy, heard nothing.
She looked at her watch again. Eleven minutes. She ripped up a handful of grass, roots and all, and hurled it into the night.
Then her walkie-talkie gave a low crackle, and her pulse raced with hope as Jon’s voice reported in and finally whispered, “Call in the strike.”
With a thrill of relief, she told him where she was hiding. “You’ve got five minutes. Once I call in”
“I understand.” There was a hesitation. “Thanks, Randi. Good luck.”
Her voice seemed to catch in her throat. “You, too, soldier.”
As she cut the connection, she turned her face up to the cloudy night sky, closed her eyes, and gave a silent prayer of thanks. Then she did her job: She bent to her radio transmitter and made the death call to the Saratoga.
Jon stood at the villa’s window, waiting for Theacute;regrave;se to crawl through. She froze, staring at her father. Jon looked back.
Chambord had produced a pistol. He was pointing it at Jon. “Step away from him, child,” Chambord said, the pistol leveled steadily at Jon’s chest. “Lower your weapon, Colonel.” He’d had it in his jacket pocket.
“Papa! What are you doing?”
“Shhh, child. Don’t worry. I’m making things right.” He took a walkie-talkie from his other pocket. “I’m serious about your weapon, Colonel Smith. Put it down, or I’ll shoot you dead.”
“Dr. Chambord” Jon tried, puzzled. He let his weapon drift down, but he did not release it.
Chambord said into the walkie-talkie, “West side. Get everyone out here.”
Jon saw the shine in Chambord’s eyes. The glow of excitement. They were the eyes of a fanatic. He remembered the detached, almost dreamy expression he had seen on the scientist’s face when Mauritania had discovered them. With a flash of insight, Jon understood: “You weren’t kidnapped. You’re with them. That’s why all the work to make you look dead. That’s why there was no guard on you just now. It was all an act with Mauritania, to make Theacute;regrave;se think you were a prisoner.”