Dead Promise

by Linda Wells

  “Good morning, Ambassador Han.” Doug hoped he sounded gracious.

  “Hello, Doug,” said Ambassador Han.

  Doug hated the disrespectful way in which the ambassador always addressed him. In fact, he hated the bastard and was sick of dealing with him. He couldn’t wait to get out of this ambassadorship and lead a private life, enjoying the money he’d acquired, traveling the world, and spending time with the other rich and famous like himself.

  “How are you this morning? I had a wonderful time at your party last evening,” said Doug. “Thank you so much.”

  “I have some surprising news for you, and, I’m sorry to say, it’s not good news,” said the ambassador.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Doug. He felt cold. He’d seen nothing of concern in the newspaper.

  “I had a call this morning from the attaché office of the FBI here in London. They wish to call upon me tomorrow, just a formality, they say.” Han hesitated. “To ask me some questions.”

  Doug felt his stomach twist into knots. Jesus Christ! What did this mean?

  “I don’t know what to say.” Doug had to think fast. “Don’t you realize that Dr. Suzy Chen was Chinese? If her sister was released, wouldn’t there be some questions of the Chinese government?”

  “But why would they want to talk to me? Why here in London?”

  “How would I know?” asked Doug.

  “Perhaps it’s because you’re here,” said the ambassador.

  75

  George’s phone rang just as she stepped out of Chen’s room. She ignored Max and Mark and walked down the hall as she talked; she returned a few minutes later. The game had changed, and she needed some time to talk with her partner.

  “Hey, Georgiana, how’d it go?” asked Mark. Max, standing nearby, could overhear.

  “Fine, but I don’t have much more information.” George turned to Max. “She wants to see you.”

  “No. Not now,” he said.

  “I told her that she needed rest, maybe later, but it’s your decision. But anything you can get her to tell you will be helpful,” she said.

  Max didn’t answer. George could see his conflict, the painful effects of everything that had happened. And was still happening. Suzy was only steps away, behind a closed door that he wasn’t ready to walk through again.

  “I need to talk with you, Mark,” George said. “Max, can we ask you to stay here? I’ll see if they can get a comfortable room for you with some protection.”

  “I’d like to stay here for a while,” he said.

  “You must be exhausted,” said George.

  “I’m fine,” he said.

  “We’ll check back with you. Would you like something to eat? Some coffee?” she asked.

  “Anything,” he answered. “Coffee, whatever.”

  “I’ll see what they have,” said George. “Just don’t leave this floor.”

  She saw the guards by the door. She knew he’d be safe. “Here’s my cell number if you need to call me.”

  “Thanks, ma’am,” he said.

  “Please call me George.” She smiled.

  “Thanks, George.”

  She stopped at the nurses’ station, arranged for a meal to be sent up for Max, and then she and Mark headed to the elevators.

  “What’s going on, Georgiana?” he asked.

  “Let’s just go. We can talk in the car,” she said.

  The elevators took them to the garage level where Mark had parked the Mustang. They climbed in, and Mark started the car, turning the AC on high.

  “Let’s go to a restaurant somewhere and talk,” George said. “Then maybe we should go to Edgewood. We’re going to have to release Adams during the investigation or charge him.”

  “Did Chen tell you anything?” asked Mark.

  “No, Max knows everything. She denies being involved with Adams, but we know she was. She hates him. I’m sure she set him up. She loves Max,” said George. “She was trying to protect him and her family.”

  “I know, George,” he said. “But she’s still guilty as hell.”

  “You’re right,” said George.

  “What about this other canister?” asked Mark. “What did Wally tell you?”

  “It’s on its way to Quantico,” she said. “Maybe Adams had something to do with it, but maybe not. We need to know who called in the tip.”

  “An accomplice?” asked Mark.

  “Maybe. But there’s something else. Wally has set it up for two of our agents from the London office to call on the Chinese ambassador tomorrow.”

  He was quiet for a moment. Finally he smiled at George. “Great idea.”

  She loved looking at him. She felt a warmth in her chest, just being with him.

  “Yes, I think something’s going to break. And this canister. We’ll find out who put it in Adams’s car. And we need to know what’s in it,” she said.

  “It’s all coming together,” he said.

  Mark pulled the car into a parking space outside the small family restaurant near Walter Reed. Georgiana opened her door as he came around the car. He grabbed her hand and helped her out. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him.

  “God, Georgiana, I love you,” he said.

  She pulled away, her hand pressed against his chest. “No, Mark. I mean it.”

  “Fine, George, I get it,” he said, stepping back from her, his arms up. “You don’t have to tell me again.”

  He walked to the sidewalk and waited. She grabbed her large leather bag from the front seat, shut the car door, and he hit the door lock. They walked into the restaurant, and the hostess led them to a booth with a window view. The waitress placed menus and glasses of ice water on the table. Neither one spoke until she came back for their orders. She took the menus and left.

  “Mark, you have to understand,” said George. She knew he was upset.

  “I do, George, believe me,” said Mark.

  “I don’t think you do,” she said.

  He lowered his voice. “I get that your ex was an asshole, and all men are assholes. Has he called you?”

  “Of course not. You’ve been with me the whole time,” she said, looking at him as if he were insane.

  He leaned back against the booth, exhaling. “I was out of line. Sorry.” He looked into her eyes. He needed to know something, anything. And he knew his timing was off.

  She could tell he meant it. “Forget it,” she said. “We’re tired.”

  She started searching through her bag, which served as purse, briefcase, and overnight bag. She grabbed her mirror, tried straightening her hair.

  He grabbed her hand. “You’re beautiful,” he said. “And I meant it. I love you. I’ve loved you for a long time. And I won’t go away.”

  She looked at him, dark shadows under her eyes. She squeezed his hand, pulling it back as the waitress brought their sandwiches.

  George hadn’t known what to say when he’d mentioned Denny. It was a sore spot for her, and Mark knew it. But she’d been so open with Mark, loving him, not wanting to need him or anyone. But she did. She loved this man, but she couldn’t let her feelings for him get in the way.

  “What now, George?” Mark asked.

  “With the case?” she asked. “We wait. I can’t see going back to Edgewood or the office. Let’s wait to hear from Wally or Fran. Chen isn’t going anywhere, and Max is secure.”

  “Yes, we’ll know soon what’s in the canister. And the laptops,” said Mark.

  “And we’ll have the London caller ID’d,” George added.

  The waitress brought their food, and as soon as they started eating, George’s cell rang.

  “Yes, Wally,” she said, listening for a few minutes. “Interesting. Thanks.”

  After a moment, she said, “Yes, we’ll stay close to Chen. Call me when you know anything.”

  She looked back at Mark. “Remember the preliminary forensics report about black particles they found in Chen’s blood on the garage floor and also in he
r wound?”

  “I saw the report,” said Mark. “What is it?”

  “Black onyx. A hard gemstone used in making jewelry.” She paused. “Or maybe a hair ornament?”

  “So the bullet could have grazed the onyx, just enough to change the trajectory,” he said.

  “It’s possible.”

  Mark shook his head in disbelief. “She’s lucky she made it.”

  “So are we,” said George.

  76

  Doug was terrified. He wanted to call the London FBI office and find out what he could. But that might draw suspicion, the last thing he could afford. If the FBI was involved in an investigation in London, what could it be? He shouldn’t jump to conclusions, but he should have been notified. He was the US Department of State’s official representative in a foreign country. Someone from the bureau should have contacted him. Maybe the investigation was in regard to the virus and the recent cases here in the United Kingdom. But why the Chinese embassy? Doug was chief liaison between Washington and their strong ally. He should call the president and find out what was going on. He could call the FBI director, but he didn’t know him. Jake was his friend, at least on the surface, and he could put a more casual face on it. He didn’t want to set off alarm bells. He picked up the phone in his office and dialed the direct line to the White House. The switchboard answered right away.

  “Please get the president on the line for me. Ambassador Bishop calling,” said Doug.

  “Right away,” said the operator.

  Waiting was difficult. It was early morning in Washington, but Doug had to know before the FBI agents met with the Chinese ambassador. Five minutes later, he was connected.

  “Hello, Mr. President,” said Doug.

  “Good morning, Doug,” said President Howland.

  “How are things going?” asked Doug. “Guess that’s a stupid question.” He laughed, attempting to sound light.

  “Well as can be expected,” answered Jake. “We’ll all feel better when we wrap up the investigation and the virus is under control.”

  “I wanted to check in with you, Jake. I guess this is a personal call as well as a professional one.”

  “What’s going on, Doug?”

  Doug hated Jake Howland more than ever, and he didn’t want to ask him anything. But he had to. He didn’t want his ass on the line; he had to find out.

  “I got a strange call this morning from Chinese Ambassador Han,” he said.

  “Yes, I’ve met him several times,” said Jake. “What did he want?”

  “Han asked me why the FBI wants to talk to him. I’m in the dark on this. I wasn’t given a heads-up,” said Doug, indignant. “What’s going on?”

  “Probably routine. Maybe they’re inquiring about the flu virus, asking if anyone in the embassy has symptoms,” he answered.

  “I should have been informed,” said Doug. He was trying to control his voice. “Anything concerning the United States or an investigation should require a prior discussion with me, considering my top-level security clearance.”

  “We’re chasing this thing from all angles,” said Jake.

  “I realize that,” said Doug. “I find it curious that I wasn’t called. Considering the fact that the bureau office is located here in the US embassy building. And they request a meeting with the Chinese ambassador, who happens to be a personal friend of mine?” His words seethed with anger.

  “Let me speak to the FBI director. Hamler can fill me in,” said Jake. “Can I get back to you?”

  “Thanks, Jake,” said Doug, trying to calm down. “Please give my apologies to Katherine for calling so early. She must be used to interruptions.” As an afterthought, he asked, “Seriously, any suspects yet?”

  “No, the only suspect we have is dead,” he answered. “But that’s classified. Understood?”

  “Absolutely, Jake. I know how things work,” Doug said, his tone caustic. Damn, he didn’t want to sound antagonistic. “Anything you can tell me about the investigation?”

  “Nothing I can discuss,” said Jake. “If Hamler has anything, I’ll call you.”

  “Thanks, and my best to Katherine,” said Doug.

  The bastard wouldn’t tell him anything. Maybe he didn’t know anything, but maybe he did. Jake wouldn’t tell him if something was going on. He was always kept out of the loop. Giving him the London ambassadorship had been a formality. A payoff for his campaign contributions. Jake wouldn’t be president without Doug’s help, and he was tired of the dismissive treatment. And acting as if he and Hamler hadn’t talked about the FBI visit to the Chinese embassy? Who did he think he was dealing with? President Jake Howland knew every move that Hamler made. No one in his administration did anything without Jake’s authorization. Something was up.

  Doug needed a break. The tension was more than he could stand. He’d call his beautiful friend, LiLi. He called her from his speed dial and left a voice mail.

  “Meet me at the apartment at ten this evening, sweetheart. I’ll be waiting. I have a surprise for you,” he said, and hung up.

  She was as lovely as her name. She was a Chinese embassy favorite, often entertaining guests of Ambassador Han’s and all those in his inner circle. He called downstairs and told his security detail to get his car. He had to get to the apartment. He felt the walls closing in.

  “Goddamn it!” he swore. He checked the burner phone in his pocket. No calls. He tried calling his contact once more. Nothing. He was sick of dealing with everything.

  He passed Margaret’s desk as he walked out of the office. “I have some business to take care of. I won’t be back today. Please call me if anything urgent comes up,” he said.

  “Yes, sir,” she said.

  As soon as he got to his apartment, he called the catering service and ordered some of his favorites: caviar, Champagne, some of the special Chinese dishes that he knew LiLi would enjoy for dinner. He wanted everything perfect. He poured a straight vodka and drank half of it. He started feeling better. Why was he so worried? Nothing was wrong. Tonight would be exciting and take his mind off these minor details. He was imagining things. He was a good friend of the president’s, and this official FBI business had nothing to do with him.

  He took a quick shower and, with his towel still wrapped around him, unlocked the lower left desk drawer in his study and retrieved a black velvet box wrapped with shimmery red ribbon. He kept lovely trinkets ready for his very special guests. She’d love the heart-shaped diamond necklace. As his favorite, she always got the most beautiful gifts in his collection. She was definitely worth every pound he’d spent on it, and he intended to collect. Doug went to his closet and picked out slacks, dress shirt, and tie. He wanted to have everything ready. Even though he didn’t plan to be dressed for long. And he’d better take a nap. He never got much sleep when LiLi spent the evening. He put on his robe, stretched out on the bed, and closed his eyes. But his thoughts began to race. He should have told LiLi to come early. He couldn’t stop thinking about the ominous call from Ambassador Han. He knew it wasn’t his imagination. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

  77

  “What’s wrong, Jake?” asked Katherine.

  “I don’t know, but I think we have a possible lead. Nothing for certain,” he answered.

  He was at his desk in the private residence. Katherine had followed him into his study with some coffee, sitting in the comfortable floral-print armchair to the left of his desk. The light from the desk lamp provided a soft glow in the comfortable room.

  “Thanks for the coffee,” he said, not looking up. He was dialing a number on the secure phone.

  Katherine sat quietly, sipping her tea, studying his face. He looked excited about something. It must be important.

  “Hey, Bruce. Sorry to wake you,” said Jake.

  He listened for a few minutes.

  “I think we have something. Maybe the London connection,” he said.

  Jake looked at Katherine, put his hand over the receiver, and whispered, “
Excuse me, sweetheart.”

  She got the cue and left the room.

  “Yes, someone’s nervous. I think we need to check him out,” said Jake. “Yes, I know him. Doug Bishop,” he said. “I hope we’re wrong, but I have a hunch. He didn’t sound right.”

  Hamler said, “We should know soon. He’s a friend, isn’t he?”

  “Let’s just say I’ve known him for some time, since he was a senator and I was governor. He helped me with the campaign, connections, and money. I owed him a favor, so I gave him an ambassadorship. But he’s never been one of my favorite people. Something’s wrong. I just sense it. And something happened with Katherine. She won’t tell me, but…” Jake trailed off. “But that doesn’t matter. Ambassador Han is nervous about your boys coming to visit. I think we need to know why. And why Bishop is nervous about it.”

  “So you and Doug have a history. And Katherine is involved? Maybe he has a hard-on for you,” said Hamler.

  “Could be,” said Jake.

  “I’ll find out,” said Hamler. “And I think our boys will pay Bishop a visit, too.”

  “Thanks, Bruce,” said Jake, and he hung up.

  Katherine came back in the study and stood next to his desk. Jake was just sitting there, sipping the coffee.

  “What’s going on, Jake?” she asked.

  “What’s your take on Doug Bishop?” he asked.

  “I don’t like him. He’s a player.” she said.

  “Did he ask you to play?” asked Jake, smiling.

  “Maybe,” she said, grinning. “But I only play with you.” Katherine sank into Jake’s lap, nearly spilling his coffee.

  Jake placed the cup and saucer on the desk while wrapping his arms around her, pulling her close. “You’re fun to play with,” he said, kissing her neck.

  “Jake, I think you need a little more sleep, don’t you?” she asked, getting up and grabbing his hand, leading him toward the bedroom.

  Jake was distracted, wanting Katherine, but his mind was still on Doug Bishop. The call had come at the wrong time. For Doug Bishop.