White Diamonds (Capitol Chronicles Book 2)

by Shirley Hailstock

  Wyatt knew he was telling the truth. "Sandra has the stones. She hid them. I don't know where, but take me to her and I'll get her to tell you."

  "That’s good, Senator. That’s rich." He laughed now that his breathing was back to normal. His clothes were slightly disheveled and dusty from their roll on the floor. "You're out of chances, Senator." His finger depressed the button.

  "Nooo!" Wyatt shouted. He grabbed for the remote. The explosion resounded in his ears like shock waves that played and replayed against his brain. Desque looked surprised stunned. The gun slipped from his fingers. Wyatt watched it fall in slow motion. It hit the floor and bounced. He watched it slide toward the wall and come to a stop. Then Desque was falling. His mouth worked feverishly but nothing came out. Wyatt couldn't hear him.

  Wyatt’s knees gave. He sank to the floor. "Sandra!" he cried over and over. "Sandra!"

  "Wyatt, I'm here." Sandra rushed across the room and fell to her knees. "Everything is all right." She put her arms around him and repeated that everything was fine. "Sam found me. He found you and shot Lance."

  Wyatt stared at her with eyes that did not see. She kept calling his name, hoping he was all right. She felt his back and looked at his arms. Had Lance shot him? When Sam had burst through the door and seen the gun pointed at Wyatt, he'd taken the first shot. It hit Lance in the arm. The gun fell from his hand.

  Wyatt had begun to scream and fell to the floor. "It's over, Wyatt. It's all over."

  Wyatt smelled her hair. He was losing his mind. Desque had killed Sandra, yet Wyatt smelled her hair. He could even feel her arms around him, hear her sweet voice.

  "Sandra!" he cried.

  "I'm here, Wyatt. I'm here."

  He wasn't dreaming. He pushed her back. It was her. She was real. "Sandra! You're alive." He pulled her against him, squashed her, pulled her off balance, and crushed her against him. Then his mouth was on her face, seeking, touching her, kissing her eyes, her cheeks, her mouth. The two of them were on their knees. Wyatt moved back a moment to look at her, make sure he hadn't made a mistake. Then he took her mouth again. This time he wanted her to know he'd never let her go again, never let her out of his sight and never put her in the kind of danger that had scared him to death.

  "Sam saved me," she explained, when he'd slipped his mouth from hers and just held her. Wyatt had no idea what she was talking about. How could Sam have saved her? "Lance locked me in the attic with a guard, but Sam forced one of the maids to tell her Lance had sent food. She opened the door and he overpowered her. Both of them are upstairs, tied up."

  He pushed her away and stood up. "What are you talking about?"

  "I'm talking about how I got out of the attic." She glanced at Sam.

  "What about the bomb?" He touched the earrings, almost caressing them. "Why didn't it go off?

  "Because I switched it," Sam said. Wyatt looked around. Sam was in the room. Jordon and Suzanne had also arrived. Everyone was smiling at them.

  Sandra went to the machine and pulled out the real set of stones. She kept them in her hand as Sam finished explaining what had happened.

  "I discovered a second bomb in the chips. It's an old failsafe device that's used to make sure if the first method fails, a second will be there to complete the job."

  "If there was one, there was probably another," Wyatt stated.

  "Exactly. I also wanted to make it difficult if we actually lost the stones, so I substituted one of the experimental ones we'd used. Desque must have tried to activate it and found out one was bogus."

  Wyatt looked at the body on the floor and then back at Sam.

  "When I saw him take Sandra upstairs and that big guy take you downstairs, I knew something was wrong. Then Desque comes back alone and I couldn't find Suzanne and Jordon."

  "We were locked in the limo," Jordon told him.

  "Getting Sandra was easy," Sam continued. "When I saw the earrings, we discovered the bomb and had to defuse the chip. That's what took so long. Sandra went to check the limo while I dealt with Desque's henchman. He's tied up and gagged in one of the basement closets."

  "How do you know there aren't more?" Wyatt said. "I can't believe he executed this thing with only a few lackeys."

  "Nor did I."

  Sandra and Annie gasped at the voice. They turned to find Lance standing, the gun in his hand pointed at them. "I thought you were dead," Sandra said. Blood covered half of him. Sandra was reminded of Wyatt and the amount of blood he'd lost when she found him. She frowned. Lance's face was a pale white. She could see the blood seeping through a point in his chest just under his collarbone.

  "I'm harder to kill than that. Now move over." He waved with the gun. They all moved in the direction he pointed.

  "You, Colonel. Throw the gun over here. Nice and easy," he said. "Don't think my left hand makes a difference. Any funny business and I'll drop you first." His voice was menacingly cold.

  Sam did as he was told. "I should have shot to kill," Sam said.

  "Lance, it's over. You can't get away with this," Sandra said. She drew his attention. He stood steady and dangerous. She knew he couldn't last long. Wyatt had tried to stand up at the cabin and he'd wobbled badly enough to fall over. It was only a matter of time before Lance came to the same fate. The blood looked thicker as it soaked into his tuxedo. His right arm was bleeding. He held the gun in his left.

  "Hand me the jewels," he ordered.

  "No," she said.

  He pointed the gun directly at her. "If I shoot this, Sandra, it will put a small hole in your chest, but it will take the back of your body and throw it into the next room. Now hand me the stones."

  "Lance, have you wondered what happened to the signal you thought would kill me?"

  For a second she saw panic in his eyes. It was quickly replaced with an evil stare. "I don't care."

  "You should," Sam told him. "We relayed it. Do you want to know where?"

  "You have lots of money," Suzanne joined. "I checked your finances and found very interesting data. I'm sure the IRS wants to discuss income and expenses with you."

  "Shut up!" he shouted. “I want those stones."

  "You have a private account in a Swiss bank," Suzanne went on.

  "It's been opened, breached," Sam went on. "You did it yourself. You pushed the button. Right now funds from that account are being electronically restored to the U.S. Treasury Department. Imagine their surprise when they arrive for work Monday morning, Desque, and find the generous deposit."

  "They're particular in Treasury," Wyatt taunted him. "They have to account for every penny. They can't let your kind of balance go without investigation."

  "I said shut up!"

  He was clearly shaken. "There's more," Sam told him. "Photographic documents of your illegal transactions are being sent to the Treasury Department."

  "Drop the gun," Jordon told him. "You haven't a chance."

  Lance shook visibly. Sandra wondered if the blood he'd lost was making him weak. She remembered how weak Wyatt had been when she'd found him. Loss of blood would give him double vision and destroy his ability to hold on to the gun. If they could keep him talking, he might pass out.

  "Haven't I?" Lance answered Jordon. "Have you forgotten where we are? I'm on foreign soil. I have many friends here. You can't touch me, the government can't touch me."

  "Drop the gun, Mr. Desque."

  An unfamiliar voice had the entire entourage shifting the attention to the door. Two armed guards pointed guns at Lance. Behind them stood Prime Minister Nagano and Everett Horton.

  "Prime Minister," Lance began. "I wish to seek political asylum in the Empire of Japan."

  There was clearly a plea in Lance's voice.

  "Mr. Desque." The prime minister bowed slightly as he pronounced Lance's name, accenting the last syllable. "The United States does not have political prisoners. The Empire cannot offer you sanctuary against crimes to your own country." He smiled and bowed again. "I wanted to bring President Horton here to
assure him that Japan had recovered his property." He glanced at Project Eagle. "We wish for continued relations with the United States. Returning their property is a gesture of mutual friendship." He bowed slightly.

  Anger showed in Lancet face. His options had run out. Quickly, he turned and trained the gun on the prime minister. Wyatt moved with lightning speed. He kicked the gun out of Lance's hand before it could go off. The guards fired, catching Lance in the chest. He staggered backward, fell against the wall and slid down it leaving a trail of blood.

  Chapter 24

  The Oval Office in the west wing of the White House had pale-yellow walls and a beige rug. The seal of the United States was woven into the rug that sat in front of the Resolute desk. Everett Horton had photos of his children on the credenza behind him. Casey's photo sat on the desk facing him.

  He stood when Wyatt wheeled Sandra into the office.

  "Welcome," he greeted, shaking hands with Jordon and Wyatt and kissing Sandra and Suzanne on the cheek.

  Melanie West and Casey Horton, who were already in the room, stood, too. Casey smiled widely. "How are your feet?" she asked Sandra.

  "The doctor says they should be completely healed in about two weeks."

  "Until then, I'd let this guy carry me around." Everett gestured toward Wyatt as he whispered in a voice only she could hear. She laughed.

  When they were seated and had been served cups of coffee, Everett said, "I'm glad everything turned out all right last night."

  "I am, too," Sandra said.

  "I also congratulate you, sir," Wyatt told the President, "on completing the trade agreement this morning between the U.S. and Japan. It’s something the country needs."

  "You'll never know how right you are, Wyatt."

  Wyatt did know. Nagano and Desque had been in each other's pockets. When Desque proved unable to deliver what he claimed without creating an international incident, Nagano pulled up stakes and threw Desque to the wolves.

  "It's over now," Everett said. "And we have you to thank for saving the country."

  Everett put his cup down and went to his desk. "I suppose I should get these signed and delivered." He picked up several pieces of paper and took a pen from the blotter. He sat down, the pen poised above the first page.

  "Mr. President," Sandra stopped him. "Before you sign . . ." She turned her wheelchair to look him directly in the face. He put down the pen and gave her his attention.

  "I thought you and I were on a first-name basis."

  "We are," she said. "When I talk to my friend. Right now I want to talk to the President."

  "Go on," he said, his voice changing to that of the strong, no-nonsense commander.

  "Project Eagle. The system. The stones. What are you planning to do with them?"

  Wyatt came and stood next to her. He took her hand in his. Annie joined her on the other side and Jordon stood next to her.

  "I see you've all discussed this and have come to some conclusion." He looked at each one of them individually. "Well, who's acting as spokesman?"

  "I am, sir," Wyatt told him. "We've discussed the power of Project Eagle, the worldwide implications of a machine so strong no one has any privacy, any freedom to speak freely even in their own homes or on the streets."

  "What have you concluded?"

  "We agree with you, Everett," Sandra said. "As citizens of the United States, we think Project Eagle will turn the United States into a world dictator. It should never be activated."

  He came around the desk and stood in front of it. "What you're saying is you think we should destroy it?"

  "No, sir," Jordon took up the explanation.

  "Then what?"

  "We want to divide it."

  "I don't understand." He studied them carefully.

  "Sir," Wyatt started. "Chip had some good uses for the project before it became a weapon. We suggest those remain. The rest should be divided for safe-keeping."

  "I take it you," he spread his arms, encompassing the group, "are to be the holders of the pieces."

  "No," Annie said. "If we kept them we could be picked off one by one until we gave them up."

  "Then where do they get stored?"

  Sandra looked at Wyatt with a smile. He returned it. Jordon's face broke into a grin and Annie's dazzling smile teased the Commander in Chief.

  "We thought, Mr. President," Wyatt said, "The space shuttle would be the best place."

  Casey Horton broke into laughter. The group looked at her. She joined them, but didn't stand with Everett. She took the space next to Jordon Ames. Melanie, too, left her position and came to stand next to Wyatt.

  "Are you two joining this mutiny?"

  Casey nodded. "I think it's a wonderful idea."

  "We'd put the stones in the next satellite to be launched. Since no one will have all the pieces, and since an orbiting satellite is impossible to compromise, the stones will be safe and the earth will be rid of a machine that could enslave the world."

  Horton took the suggestion and weighed it. It was better than the ones his advisors had come up with. The military wanted it back and wanted to go into mass production. The FBI wanted sole access to it. The State Department wanted a joint program for all areas and Senator Rutledge wanted it destroyed. Everett was in favor of its destruction. He knew the power it could command and he knew that kind of power was both heady and corrupt.

  "Everett, I think they've got the best solution," Melanie West said. "I stand with them."

  Sandra smiled and looked up at the President. "Everett?" she said.

  "You know, Sandra, I asked Casey once for her opinion of you. She said you'd make a great President. I think I'm going to have to agree with her."

  "Thank you, sir."

  He went back to his desk and picked up his phone. A second later he said, "Marsha, get me Daniel Carmichael at NASA. I need to know when the next shuttle goes up."

  ***

  Amid the celebration that took place after Everett made his decision, the doors opened and Bradford Campbell Rutledge came in. Sandra saw him first. She stiffened in her metal chair. Her hand began to shake and she placed her glass on the sofa table. Finding Wyatt next to her, she took his hand.

  "Brad," Everett called. "I'm glad to see you."

  Brad came forward. Sandra's heart beat fast. Her hands were suddenly cold. She looked at Annie. Color had drained from her face.

  "I'd like to propose a toast," the President said. "To Brad Rutledge, who in the past couple of weeks has had to lie to his family." Everett's gaze was trained directly on Sandra. "He's been the informant, investigating the Undersecretary of Defense. Under my direct orders, Brad has been able to tell no one what his assignment was, thus hurting his family and putting his daughter's life in peril." He raised his coffee cup. "Here, here."

  Sandra didn't drink. She looked at her father. Tears clouded in her eyes. He'd been working for the President. He wasn't a traitor and she'd doubted him. Water spilled down her cheeks. She felt guilty. How could she ever face him?

  "Sandra," he kneeled in front of her. "Can you forgive me?"

  "Forgive you," she said. "Dad . . ." Then she was in his arms, hugging him. "Forgive me, Dad. I doubted you. I thought you were trying to sell the stones. I never thought—"

  "It's behind us, Sandra. We each doubted the other. I said things about Senator Randolph to get you to leave him. I wanted you safe, and while you were with him there was nothing I could do. I beg your forgiveness . . . and yours, too, Senator."

  Sandra moved back and looked at Wyatt. She held her breath. The two men she loved most in the world stood in front of her. She wanted them to be friends.

  "I can't very well hold a grudge against my future father-in-law," Wyatt said.

  Again the quiet before the storm. Suddenly, everyone was hugging and kissing, congratulating her and Wyatt and asking if they'd set a date.

  Annie was the only person who hung back. Sandra knew she hated their father. Yet, when she looked at her sister, wha
t she saw was fear. She'd rarely ever seen the emotion in Annie's eyes.

  "Annie, what's wrong?"

  Jordon stayed near her. He whispered something Sandra couldn't hear.

  "I'm scared," she answered.

  "Why, Annie?"

  "I can't tell him."

  "Hello, Annie," Brad addressed his oldest daughter.

  Sandra looked up to see her father and her mother.

  "Mom," she said. Her mother reached down to hug her.

  "I hear you know," Melissa said.

  She was talking to Annie. "Will somebody please tell me what's going on?"

  "Annie discovered who her real father was," Jordon answered her question. Brad and Melissa Rutledge looked as if they were about to faint. "It's all right," Jordon assured them.

  "I know about the birth certificate," Annie said. "I found it a couple of months before Sand got married. I thought you'd chosen Sand and left me to live in poverty. She got the advantages and I got nothing."

  "Annie, that birth certificate—"

  "I know," she interrupted her father. "My real father's name was Curtis Pittman. He was from Atlanta."

  "How did you find out?" Melissa asked her.

  "I have a friend," Jordon answered, "who's an investigator. He told us. And Jordon found Curtis Pittman's diary. Everything is recorded there."

  Brad stared at Jordon for a long time.

  "I'm sorry, Dad. I said some terrible things to you . . . and to you, Sand."

  Tears looked as if they were imminent. The sisters hugged, the parents hugged. All the pain and fear seemed to heal and they stood together.

  "We better get out of here," Wyatt suggested. "After all, the man," he pointed at the President, "has a country to run. And I'd like to visit my office and go home."

  "You wouldn't want to leave without these," Everett said, holding up several sheets of paper.