White Diamonds (Capitol Chronicles Book 2)

by Shirley Hailstock

  "With that lovely piece of jewelry you're wearing as if it were only dazzling pieces of man-made stone."

  "Isn't that what they are?"

  She scanned the room. Where was Sam? What had happened to Jordon and her sister? Wyatt had nodded to them that the exchange had been made. They should get their coats and get out of there. Had they gone without seeing Lance arrive?

  Lance stopped dancing when he reached Prime Minister Nagano and his wife. He greeted them in Japanese, keeping a firm hold on Sandra.

  "I didn't know you could speak Japanese," she commented when he'd bowed and danced her back onto the floor.

  "I began studying it a few years ago."

  She knew he was lying. He spoke the language too well. She'd heard her sister speaking and knew the Lance's command was much more refined than Annie's and she'd spent two years in Japan, traveling and modeling but making Tokyo her home base.

  "What are you planning to do with us?" Sandra plunged headlong into the real reason they were there.

  "You always were one to go straight for the jugular, Sandra. No dancing around the subject for you. I must say, getting out of that trunk was a stroke of genius. I didn't think you could do it. But I know now never to underestimate you."

  Lance had maneuvered her to the back stairs. The door to the basement loomed in front of her. With his hand still on her arm, she felt the unmistakable feel of a gun pressed against her back.

  "Up," he pushed her.

  Her breath rushed out of her lungs on a painful gasp. She stepped on the first rung. "Where are you taking me? Where's Wyatt?"

  "Don't worry about the senator. I'm sure the two of you will be seeing each other soon."

  His voice had an ominous tone to it. Sandra's blood turned to ice water and shivered through her with a paralyzing fear. Lance pushed her up another step. Pain rocketed from her feet. She bit her lip to keep from crying out. He nearly dragged her to a room in the attic.

  "Keep her here," he ordered an Asian woman of about forty as he released his hold on her arm. The woman bowed more than nodded. Sandra rubbed the spot where his hands had been. It was already sore from the constant tangle of bush and branches she'd stumbled through last night during her escape. Tonight she didn't think she'd have the same degree of luck.

  Lance took a step toward her. She shrank away from him, hating herself for the cowardly act.

  Lance reached into his pocket. Sandra's heart logged in her throat. She forced herself to breathe. Cutting off oxygen would make her pass out and she refused to do that. Lance grinned at her. She hated that grin. His hand came out holding the fake stones they'd left in the machine downstairs.

  "The jewelry," he demanded, his hand outstretched. "Mine for yours."

  "What good is it to you? It's man-made, you said so yourself."

  "I don't have time for games. There are things I have to do, and I need the necklace and earrings. Now give them to me or I'll take them by force and, believe me, you won't like my kind of force."

  Sandra clinched her teeth together to keep from shaking. His voice was evil to the core. It seeped into her and sapped her of strength. The Japanese woman came from behind Lance and exchanged one necklace for the other. Sandra removed the earrings and handed them to him. He smiled, a sincere smile of accomplishment, then took her hand and pushed the fakes into it.

  "Thank you, Sandra. You'll never know what you've done for your country."

  Sandra cringed.

  Lance turned and left. The Asian woman, dressed in a western-style business suit and high heels, locked the door after Lance. Her hair was pulled into a topknot that allowed tendrils to fall down her face and soften the look of it. She turned back to Sandra and leveled the barrel of a gun between her breasts.

  Chapter 23

  Sam slipped behind a huge potted plant when he saw the short, squat man leading Wyatt down the hall. Something had gone wrong. Where was Sandra? He could only assume Desque had caught them before they got out and had separated them.

  It had to mean he also had the stones. Sam could have kicked himself. He should have destroyed the machine when he had the chance, but at the last minute he changed his mind. It was more than a small box with computer-wired chips. It had been the better part of his life for several years. He took pride in it and couldn't intentionally destroy it.

  Now that they knew where it was, he thought the government could put pressure on the Japanese to return it. Now he knew he'd made the wrong decision.

  He moved away from the plant, noticing that Randolph had been taken back to the basement As soon as he discovered where Desque—

  He saw him. He was talking to the prime minister and dancing with Sandra. Sam shrank into the darkness of the corridor. He found an empty room and stole inside it. With the door cracked, he could only see the basement door and the back stairs. He waited. Finally, he heard Sandra's voice. She challenged Lance. What a gutsy woman, he thought. Desque pushed her up the stairs.

  After all she'd gone through she was here, disregarding her physical pain, to try to get the part that could save not only his hide, but that of the entire world. He had to admit that maybe women in the services wasn't as bad as he'd thought. He'd never had to work with a woman under pressure. Sandra Rutledge had behaved admirably. Wyatt was a lucky man.

  Desque came down the stairs—alone. He'd left her up there. He looked around the hallway, then went directly to the basement door. He checked in front and behind him. Seeing no one, he opened the door and disappeared through it.

  Sam left his hiding place and went up the stairs. He didn't have time to locate Suzanne and Jordon. He needed to know where Sandra was, then they'd get Wyatt. He hoped.

  ***

  The room was temperature controlled for the computer equipment. Wyatt was generating his own heat. He wanted to know where Sandra had been taken. Was she all right? She'd been ill and in pain most of the evening. What had Desque done with her?

  Wyatt looked at the Neanderthal holding him. The man had not said a word. He'd let the implication of the gun speak for him. Wyatt was under no illusion that he wouldn't use the gun if necessary.

  He could hear the party going on upstairs. Band music filtered through the door. He wondered where Sam was and if Jordon and Suzanne were still looking for them. He grabbed the thought as his only means of a possible escape.

  There was suddenly a loud applause. Both Wyatt and Henri looked at the ceiling. Something happened. He wondered what. Maybe Jordon and Suzanne had discovered them missing and done something to try to find them. Desque opened and closed the door. The sound resounded and receded.

  The look that passed between Desque and the silent man told Wyatt they were involved in the commotion occurring on the floor above.

  "They're here," he said to his silent partner.

  "What do you want with us?" Wyatt opened. "You've got what you need. Why don't you let us go?"

  Desque walked like a man who had everything he'd ever wanted. He went to the desk and sat down. Pulling a small black device from his pocket, he dropped it on the desk. Wyatt thought it was a hand-held tape recorder and that it would begin to play a recorded message. Then he noticed it was a remote control. What did it control? What was Desque's game now? Why did he want him to know?

  "I want the last chip, Wyatt."

  Wyatt didn't like the way he pronounced his name, as if the two syllables should be dragged apart.

  Desque pulled the jewelry from his pocket. He dropped it on the desk. It joined the remote control, giving Wyatt added cause for concern. Where was Sandra? What had he done to her?

  "I don't know what you're talking about." He looked at the set stones. He couldn't tell whether these contained the chips or not. The machine it fit into was open and empty. Sandra had been wearing the real ones. The fakes had been in the machine. Now nothing was in the machine and Desque had danced away with Sandra.

  Desque stood up. "I'm talking about the fifteenth stone, Senator." His voice raised. "You had
a copy made," he grinned. Adjusting his suit as if he was getting back to his customary state of perfection, he lowered his voice. "It's a good copy." He lifted the necklace. The solitaire swung like a pendulum in a short arc. "To the naked eye there isn't any difference. But," he stopped the swing. "It won't work and I'm going to have it."

  "What do you think I can do? I don't have it." Wyatt shrugged. The gesture might have looked as if he didn't care, but he did. He felt his palms growing moist.

  "The only person who's had possession of the stones, other than Jeff Taylor, has been you and Senator Rutledge's daughter."

  "Where is she? What have you done with her?"

  Desque picked up the remote control and leaned back in the chair as if he were relaxing. Wyatt's nerves stretched to the breaking point. "Ah, yes. Senator Rutledge's daughter. You're in love with her, aren't you?"

  Wyatt didn't answer.

  "You don't have to answer. I could see it the first time I met you." He twirled the small instrument in his hand. "Why don't we talk about Sandra. I've known her for years, since she was a child."

  Wyatt stared straight ahead. He wanted to pick up one of the pieces and examine it, find out if the jewelry lying on the desk was the real thing or the copies Sandra had had made. Desque picked up an earring. Wyatt consciously controlled his breathing.

  "You're wondering which ones these are?" Desque seemed to read his mind. "They're the real ones, the ones Jackson designed and had made. The ones that fit into the slots of that system and the ones that Sandra Rutledge had gracing her beautiful ears and throat." He paused.

  "Desque, if you've done anything to hurt her . . ."

  "Hurt her?" His eyes opened in mock surprise. "I wouldn't hurt her. I wouldn't even deprive her of her jewelry." He let the earring drop to the desk. Stretching out his arm, he checked his watch. "It's nearly time," he said to the other man. Then Desque handed him the stones. "Put them in."

  "Time for what?" Wyatt asked. He knew time was running out for him, too. Desque was playing some game and he didn't like it, but he had to continue until he found out where Sandra was. Had he taken her out of the building or was she upstairs someplace? Where was Sam? Had he seen Desque and Sandra? "Time for what?" he asked again.

  "Time to activate the system, Senator." He glanced at Henri who was busy slipping the stones into place.

  "I thought you said it wouldn't work without the fifteenth stone?"

  "I'll have the fifteenth stone. You're going to give it to me."

  "I don't have it," Wyatt reminded him.

  Desque made a display of checking the remote in his hand. "We allowed you in here earlier, Randolph. You and the colonel. Did you think you were safe? You'd replaced the stones with fakes. Having them set into a necklace and earrings . . . that was good," he smiled. "I like that. Was it your idea or the senator's daughter? Maybe I should say the farmer's daughter?"

  Wyatt almost lunged for him. He stopped himself in time. Desque was trying to provoke him and he wouldn't let him. He had to stay calm, stay in control until he told him what he'd done with Sandra or until Sam or Jordon and Suzanne found him.

  "We let you take the real stones, but we couldn't let you leave. The duplicates were a good touch. Whose idea was that?"

  "What difference does it make?"

  "Oh, it makes a difference. You see, we. . .modified the duplicate necklace. We . . . added something to one of the stones. We made it a fifteenth stone."

  Wyatt shook. He couldn't stop the tremor.

  "That got your attention. Good. Let me tell you what we did with it and where it is now."

  Wyatt knew.

  "Sandra has it. She's upstairs." He looked up. Wyatt couldn't stop himself from following Desque's gaze. "In the attic. Around her neck is the duplicate with a stone that contains a—" He left the sentence hanging.

  "You've put a bomb around Sandra’s neck?" Wyatt could hardly speak. He squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them. "You're lying," he said. "That bomb would level this building." Sam had told him that when he'd defused it at the mansion in Virginia. If it went off it could turn the building into a small pile of stone, he'd said. Desque wanted to reap his rewards in this life. He'd no more set off a bomb than shoot himself.

  "That bomb would," he agreed. “I said we'd modified it. All it will do now is take her head off."

  Wyatt weaved at the mental picture created. Desque gave his attention to the black control in his hand. Wyatt pulled himself together. He was going to have to talk his way out of this if he was going to save her life.

  "It's done, sir." Henri spoke for the first time. Wyatt looked at him. His face was stony. Wyatt had the feeling that Henri would enjoy killing him. Cold ran through him as bone-chilling as a winter plunge in the Potomac River.

  "Good," Desque told him. "Leave us. Make sure no one enters or leaves without my permission."

  Henri nodded and left. Wyatt could have kicked himself. He should have been trying to figure out how to get the remote away from Desque. Instead, he'd followed Henri's movements without thinking of anything else. Sandra was his responsibility. He'd gotten her mixed up in this and she'd nearly been killed for the service. He couldn't let all her effort and work go to waste.

  Was Desque telling the truth or was this a good game of poker? Wyatt really didn't know if the fifteenth stone wasn't the same. Who'd changed it? Sam? Sandra? The jeweler?

  "I told you I don't know anything about that stone. If it's the wrong one, then Chip sent the wrong one to me."

  "Don't give me that!" Desque hit the desk with his fist. A pencil cup toppled over and the green-shaded banker's light skidded to a new location. "You had it and you'll tell me what you did with it." Again he adjusted his clothes. Wyatt realized Desque hated losing control. He liked speaking softly and being in control, holding people with the quiet hostility of his voice. "You've noticed this, haven't you, Senator." He held the remote in plain view.

  Wyatt's knees grew weak. He wanted to sit down, but he knew his best position would be to stand and be ready for whatever came his way. He breathed slowly, keeping himself alert.

  Desque pushed a button. The machine close to the wall started up. Lights came on, went off, then came on and stayed steady. The whir of the fan made him jump as if it had exploded.

  "Don't be so jumpy, Senator. It’s this button." He pointed to the white one. The others were black. Only one button had a different color. "When I get to the one, imagine what will happen to her." He pressed a second button. Apparently, nothing happened. "This one just locked the door to a limousine, Senator. Do you want to know who's inside that limousine?" Desque waited for an answer, but Wyatt didn't give it to him. "Of course, you want to know. A certain photographer and his model. They were going to help you and Sandra in the rescue of the world. Too bad things didn't go according to plan."

  "What is the plan?" Wyatt asked. He took a step closer to Desque. He couldn't just stand there and wait for him to go through the eight buttons on the control.

  "The plan, Wyatt?" He separated his name again. "I thought you'd figured it out by now. Sandra did. She knows exactly what I'm planning to do. I'm going to control the world. All I need is the stone." He pressed another button.

  Lights at the end of the room went out. "That's three, Wyatt. There are five left. All of them might not have functions. How much longer do you think it will be before I reach the final button? How much time do you think Sandra has?"

  Wyatt tried not to think of Sandra's headless body, but Desque kept talking. "Stop this now, Desque." He took another step forward. He was close to the desk.

  "She won't even know it," he continued, ignoring Wyatt. "The blast will come as a total surprise. She won't have time to think about you. Her life will be over before it can flash in front of her eyes. She'll probably open her mouth to scream. Do you think she'll be able to, Wyatt? Her head will be gone, Senator. It'll whirl in the air like a ball, blood spurting everywhere. Then it'll crash—"

  Desque looked d
own at the control. Wyatt lunged for him. Momentum over the desk had the two of them crashing to the floor. The remote control skittered away. It clattered over the tiles out of reach. Desque rolled over and reached for it. Wyatt grabbed him. He rolled back, fighting him. His fist connected with Wyatt’s jaw. Wyatt was dazed for a moment. He saw the second punch coming and blocked it. Raising to his knees, he pulled Desque with him. The man used his legs to punch Wyatt in the kidneys. Pain exploded in his back. His grip released and Desque pinned him to the floor.

  The fist coming toward him was huge. It grew larger and larger as it approached his face. Wyatt shifted his head in time. Desque's hand hit the computer floor. He screamed as pain went through his knuckles and up his arm. Wyatt used the force of his shoulder to connect his fist with Desque's jaw. He went sideways off him. Dazed but not out, Desque shook his head, trying to clear it.

  Wyatt rolled away from him and went for the remote control. He picked it up and turned back to the undersecretary. Wyatt stopped in the act of rising. Pointed directly at him was the front end of a loaded gun.

  "I think you have something that's mine," Desque huffed. They were both breathing hard. “Lay it on the desk slowly, and I wouldn't try anything stupid, Senator."

  Wyatt hesitated. What should he do? He wasn't going to get another chance to surprise Desque.

  "I'm waiting, Senator. On the desk." He punctuated each word. “Or I shoot you in the knee."

  Wyatt had no choice. He placed the remote on the desk and backed away.

  Desque picked it up. He placed his hand over the white button. "Time’s up, Senator. Where is it?"

  "All right, I'll tell you. It's at the hotel," he lied. Anything for time. "We left it in the safe so it wouldn't be mistaken for one of the others."

  "I don't believe you." His finger moved.

  "I swear," Wyatt shouted.

  "You think I'm stupid We searched that room the moment you left it. There's nothing there but clothes spread all over the furniture, enough makeup to open a store, and financial reports on some of the most influential men in Washington. That was a major find, Senator," he smiled. "Thanks for providing it."