The President’s Daughter

“Well, you got a Military Cross out of it, and that’s not bad for nineteen, you old bugger,” Dillon said. “Let’s look at that map again.”

Ferguson took it from his briefcase and unfolded it. It was quite simply a large-scale map of Corfu. “Here we are, Vitari, that’s Aleko’s village, and he said Castle Koenig was about fifteen miles north.”

“But not marked,” Blake said.

“Well, it wouldn’t be, it’s not that kind of a map.” Ferguson looked at Dillon. “You think it can be done?”

“Under cover of darkness, yes.”

“There is one problem. Aleko and his chaps are good men and as fine a band of cutthroats as I’ve ever used, but against Judas, or Levy, as I suppose we must call him now. . . .” Ferguson shook his head. “A first-class soldier, and I would deduce that every one of his men has served in the Israeli Army.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Dillon said. “This is a one-man operation anyway. Aleko and his boys simply land me and stand out to sea and wait for a signal to come back when needed.”

“The worst idea I ever heard of,” Blake Johnson told him. “I think you’ve forgotten how to count, Dillon. Levy has five men that we know of—that’s six including him—and we got that information from you. Now what the hell are you going to do? Sneak in there and kill them one by one like a bad action movie?”

“I know the interior of the castle, I know where to go.”

“You don’t damn well know. You were on the third floor, and so was Marie de Brissac, and you only know that because they took you down to the cellar. Oh, I was forgetting. They took you to the great man’s study, so you know where that is. Other than that, you know squat.”

“So what are you saying?”

“That you need backup, my fine Irish friend, and here I am.”

“It’s not your kind of game.”

“Two tours in Vietnam, Dillon, and I’ve killed a few times in the FBI. It’s beyond argument.” Blake turned to Ferguson. “Tell him, Brigadier.”

Ferguson smiled. “Frankly, I rather took it for granted. I even brought a jump suit and flak jacket for myself.”

“Now I know the world’s gone mad,” Dillon said.

“Yes, on reflection, I’ll stay with the boat. Useful, that flak jacket, though, if we come under fire, but I’m hungry. Sergeant Kersey!”

Kersey came through from the galley. “General?”

“I keep telling you, it’s Brigadier in the British Army. I don’t know what these two want, but I’d like tea, toast, and marmalade. I’m just in the mood.”

“Coming right up, General,” Kersey said deliberately and returned to the galley smiling.

In his study, Colonel Dan Levy, also known as Judas, was standing at the window looking out, an unlit cigar in his mouth, when there was a knock at the door and they all came in, led by Aaron, and stood in a semicircle.

Levy turned to face them. “Good morning, gentlemen.”

“Colonel.” Aaron nodded. “You sent for us.”

“The operation is obviously at a critical point. The President has to make the decision to sign Nemesis day after tomorrow.”

It was David Braun who spoke. “Colonel, do you really think he will?”

“I don’t know. The one thing I’m certain of is that I will surely execute his daughter if he does not. My mind is fixed on that.” He looked hard, incredibly determined. “Is there anyone here who doubts that?”

He looked from one to another searchingly. “Is there anyone here who doubts the cause we fight for?”

It was Aaron who spoke. “Of course not. We’re with you to the end. Whatever it takes.”

“Good. So, the next forty-eight hours is critical. How are the women, David?” he asked Braun.

“I took the Bernstein woman back to her own room for the night.”

Levy cut in. “Not the Bernstein woman, David. Give her the proper title. Personally, I admire her greatly. They could do with her in the Jerusalem Criminal Investigations Department.”

David Braun looked uncomfortable. “I took the Chief Inspector back to her own room for the night. I haven’t taken her to join the countess yet because I was leaving breakfast until after this meeting.”