“Have I ever told you how much I hate wearing heels?” she whispered as he escorted her to the door.
“No, but you look fabulous in them, darlin’.”
Finn laughed. “You little flirt.”
He winked and pulled the door open for her. “Only with you, gorgeous.” She handed her invitation to the security guard, dropped her clutch into the plastic tray for the x-ray machine, and stepped through the metal detector. Junior, Oz, and Knight followed her through and into the elevator. Per the plan, AJ and Whittaker positioned themselves by the elevator.
None of them were hiding their roles as her security contingency. All of them were wearing earpieces, microphones, and all of them were obviously packing under their jackets. One thing Knight had come through with were the credentials for them all to do so legally—well, sort of. As long as you didn’t dig too deep into those licenses, everything was fine.
She wandered slowly along the observation deck, enjoying the view across the city from the glass walls surrounding the sixty-ninth floor. The lights of the Empire State Building seemed to radiate off the walls and made the black night around the building hazy—like there was a shimmer in the air around it. Beyond it, the bright lights of the Statue of Liberty glittered against the dark waters of the Hudson River. She’d been fourteen the first time she’d visited New York. Her father had brought her with him on a business trip and she had seen the lab for the first time. She’d also visited the Statue of Liberty, when she’d snuck away from her nanny and spent the whole day alone. It had been blissful; the only thing missing had been someone to share her fun with. Not someone who was paid to be at her side, but someone who wanted to be. She’d resorted to calling her best friend Pete back in England and telling him everything she could see. She placed her hand on the cold glass.
“Oh, Pete.” The wounds of his death—his murder—were still so fresh that she had to fight to keep the tears from falling. She still couldn’t quite believe that it was her own father who had ordered the death of her best friend, nor could she quite let go of the guilt that came with that knowledge.
Guilt will do you no good here. She focused on everything her father had done. To her. To Oz. To her mother. So much pain for what? Greed? Power? I hope it was worth it, Daddy.
She screwed the pain into a ball and pushed it down into the pit of her stomach where she let it burn. The flames licked at the wounds of betrayal and fanned the fires of rage. She let her anger settle into her expression and hoped it mirrored some of what she felt inside as she strode across the room and ascended the escalator to the party proper.
Champagne and the distinct feeling of loneliness were her companions as she slowly wandered the observation deck. The occasional gust of wind blowing in when one guest or another braved the freezing December night air was more than enough to convince her to stay inside. A jazz trio played softly, and couples were dancing in the middle of the room. Junior was unobtrusive as he watched her from the edge of the room, as did the rest of her security detail. She couldn’t see Oz and Knight, but she knew they could see her. The distance only added to the feeling of loneliness she felt.
“May I have this dance?” An Arabic man with a long, jagged scar down his left cheek held out his hand, bowing slightly at the waist, and smiling genially at her. He wore long white robes and the traditional headdress of a Saudi prince. He didn’t seem at all out of place amongst the movers and shakers of New York’s politicos and business elite.
She offered him a small smile. “I’m afraid I’m not much of a dancer, Mr.…” She let her voice trail off, hoping he would offer his name as he corrected her assumption.
“Neither am I, Miss Sterling. I’m sure we will, as you British say, muddle through together.” He smiled broadly as he took her hand and handed her half-empty glass to a passing waiter. His hand was cool in hers, and his self-assured manner convinced her that she would end the situation quicker by taking a turn on the dance floor. She shrugged; it might even liven up an otherwise boring evening. She just wished that he had divulged his name.
The band played a mid-tempo song, and the dance was uneventful as he led her around the floor. “I feel I’m in the arms of a very accomplished dancer, sir.”
“You flatter me, Miss Sterling.”
She realized that he was well aware she didn’t know who he was, and he was enjoying watching her struggle as she tried to work it out. She imagined him as a cat, a hunter who had cornered a mouse and was exalting in watching it twist and turn in its grasp before it would become lunch, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She was familiar with the feeling of being stalked. She’d lived with it for as long as she could remember, and it was a feeling that only grew more intense as she knew Masood Mehalik was on her trail. She didn’t need anyone else adding to her unease.
“Not at all. Thank you for the dance. I should get back and mingle with some of the other guests.” She made to move away, but he kept his arms around her and held her firmly in place.
“Of course. Before you do, I would like to make an appointment to speak with you, Miss Sterling. I do so love that accent of yours, but I think we have business to discuss also.”
“What business would that be, sir?” She was tired of playing games. “You’ll have to forgive me, but I don’t know who you are, nor do I know what business you are in.”
“I was a business associate of your father’s. Before his unfortunate incarceration that is.”
It was odd. His smile didn’t alter, no muscles in his face moved, but everything about the look in his eyes changed. His whole demeanor shifted from open and amiable to cold and malevolent in an instant, and she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that she was in the arms of the man they were looking for. Her mouth went dry, and she fought to control the shudder that ran up her spine. She was holding the hand of a murderer. The edge to his words was enough to convince her that he knew about her part in her father’s downfall. Angry. Show him angry, not afraid. She schooled her face and hoped she looked unimpressed and unafraid.
“Have you ever heard the phrase, you catch more bees with honey than vinegar, Mr. Mehalik?”
“Ah, so you’ve heard of me. Of course I’m familiar with the phrase.”
“My father was vinegar. And acid gives me heart burn.”
He turned her under his arm as he continued to lead her around the dance floor. “Very good, Miss Sterling. I understand you are continuing to work on the product your father had agreed to sell to me.”
“You are well informed.”
He shrugged. “I pay attention to things that interest me.” His gaze dropped from her face to her body. She shuddered with revulsion, but the slow smile on his face gave her hope that he had mistaken her disgust for desire. “Are you ready to make a deal?”
“If the price is right.”
“You do not wish to know what my intention with your product is?” He frowned slightly.
“Mr. Mehalik—”
“General.”
“My apologies, General Mehalik, but there’s only one purpose to this product, which is to kill lots and lots of people. The very nature of it is to annihilate all unvaccinated people.” She wet her lips. “Globally. I don’t need to ask what you intend to use it for. It has no other use. It is built to kill. What else do I need to know?”
“Apparently nothing. What of the vaccine? Dr. Lyell wasn’t optimistic about it.”
“You’re too kind to him. What he created was little better than a crapshoot. I’ve increased the efficacy of his vaccine. It won’t be one hundred percent effective, but it will be over eighty-five percent.”
“A significant improvement.”
“Yes. With more time I’m sure I can reach the ninety-nine percent efficacy I would expect from a vaccine.”
“Not one hundred percent?”
“No vaccine is one hundred percent effective. The human body has a tendency to react unpredictably on occasion.”
“Very well, Miss S
terling. Or may I call you Daniela?”
“Of course, Masood.” She knew she was taking a chance, but he would expect her to push the boundaries, to try to force him to deal with her as an equal.
“I would very much like to discuss this with you in more detail, Daniela. Perhaps you would be so good as to join me somewhere a little more…private?”
“Perhaps you would care to join me for dinner? I have an apartment not far from here, we could—”
“I had a little something else in mind.”
She raised her eyebrow in question and waited for him to continue.
“I have a yacht on the Red Sea. A beautiful boat, a little sun, perfect blue ocean. I thought perhaps you, and your people, would be so kind as to visit me while we discuss business, and perhaps we can spend some more time talking about more personal things, Daniela.”
Oh no. No way. “I’m very honored by your offer, Masood. But I’m not sure that’s a very good idea. I still have a considerable amount of work to do on the vaccine.”
“I insist. You see I am selective, very selective, in whom I choose to do business with.”
Shit. That one sentence told her she wasn’t trusted and refusal wasn’t an option. “In that case I would love to, Masood.”
“Excellent. I will have my people make the arrangements.”
“I’ll make my own travel arrangements, Masood. Give me a place to meet you, and I’ll be there.”
“It would be so much easier if I took care of everything.”
“I’m sure it would. But you see, my father was a man who tried to control me, down to every last detail of my life. So I have an objection to people trying to take over. I, too, am selective in whom I do business with.”
He seemed to consider her words before smiling slightly. “Very well. Then you will be flying to Eilat. Monday evening, seven o’clock. There will be a reservation in your name at Eddie’s Hide-A-Way on Eilot Avenue.” He bowed from the waist and kissed the back of her hand. “I look forward to seeing you again.”
She glanced over her shoulder for Junior, and by the time she looked back to Masood he was gone. “Goddammit.” She crossed the floor quickly. “Tell them to get a look at that guy. Get his picture or something.”
“The Saudi prince? I take it you enjoyed the dance then.” Junior’s smile slipped from his face.
“That was him.”
“What?”
“That was Mehalik. Get them to get a picture of him or something.”
Junior spoke quickly into his mic and his frown deepened as he got the reply. “They can’t find him.”
“What? He was just here. He can’t have gotten all the way down yet. The elevators are fast, but not that fast.” Junior continued to talk into his mic but shook his head. “Damn it.”
“We need to know everything he said to you.”
“We’ve also got some travel plans to make.”
“What are you talking about?”
“We’ve got a meeting on Monday evening.”
“Okay,” Junior said.
“In Israel.”
“Oh boy.” He took Finn’s elbow and steered her back toward the dance floor. “I thought this dude was Palestinian?” He turned her under his arm and steered her gently around the dance floor.
“And tonight you thought he was a Saudi prince. As did I.”
“Good point. Hiding in plain sight. That gives me an idea.” He spoke into his mic again. “Uncle Billy, this dude’s good with disguises. Check the wait staff and service elevators, and check for him without the Saudi outfit.”
Finn could hear the muffled voice from his earpiece telling Junior that without the costume they didn’t know what they were looking for.
“He has a six-inch scar on his left cheek. Kind of jagged. Look for that.”
Junior passed the information along and smiled at her. “See, I knew we’d make an operative of you.” He dropped her into an impressive dip.
“No, thanks. Once this is over, I’m done with it. Now let me up, you big oaf.”
Chapter Twenty-eight
Bailey turned off the engine and pulled the key out of the ignition. “Do you want me to go first?”
Cassie nodded but couldn’t tear her eyes away from the building. There were no lights on, the drive was empty, and a newspaper sat on the porch. She watched as Bailey mounted the steps and rang the bell. No one answered. “There’s no one here, Jazz. We’ve come all this way and there’s no one here.” The dog whined from the backseat, verbalizing her sympathy the only way she could. “Thanks, I appreciate it.” She smiled. “I’m going mad, anthropomorphizing the poor dog.”
Bailey waited a good thirty seconds before ringing again and peering through the glass on the door, but it was no good. Bailey turned to her and shrugged, shaking her head as she walked back to the car. “It’s too dark to see anything in there. We can wait a while if you like. I mean it is Friday night. Maybe she’s gone out for the night.”
“Good point. Maybe we should try in the morning.”
“I can get on board with that.” She could see the disappointment and lingering anxiety in Cassie’s eyes. She wondered if she’d be able to sleep at all between now and morning and vowed to get them separate rooms. She wasn’t up to a repeat of last night’s incident. Neither her nerves nor her brain would be up to anything tomorrow if she had to watch Cassie writhing in her dreams again. The memory of Cassie’s throaty moan made her mouth water and she could feel her pulse pounding between her legs.
“Are you okay?” Cassie frowned at her from the passenger seat as she leaned over, one arm resting on the window ledge of the car.
“Sorry, yeah. A little tired.”
“Do you want me to drive till we find a motel?”
“No, it’s fine, thanks. It won’t be far.” She rounded the car and climbed into her seat. “I can hear a shower and an early night calling my name.”
“Oh that does sound good. Maybe something from room service.”
“You hungry again? We can stop somewhere if you like?”
“We didn’t get dessert. I hear a key lime pie calling my name.” Cassie bumped her shoulder.
“Not for me. Give me chocolate any day.”
“Chocolate’s good, but I’m a Floridian, remember?”
“Well, that explains so much.”
“Hey. I think I should be offended.”
“Only think? Damn, I’m out of practice.” The look of indignation on Cassie’s face soon gave way to a fit of laughter that Bailey joined in on. The tension in Cassie’s shoulders melted away, and Bailey was pleased she’d been able to relieve some of her tension, if only temporarily.
Chapter Twenty-nine
“Israel? Are you fucking nuts?” Oz shouted in the car.
“He didn’t exactly give me much choice, Oz.”
“Do you have any idea what the situation is in Israel?”
Finn cocked her eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest. “No, I’m an imbecile. Why don’t you enlighten me?” Finn’s voice dripped with sarcasm, and Oz knew better than to respond. She chose silence as the better part of valor.
“Actually, I don’t know too much about it. Aren’t the Palestinians terrorizing the Israelis?” AJ said from the driver’s seat, Junior having opted to travel back to the apartment with Billy, Charlie, and Knight in the van so they could start planning straight away. Whittaker had said he’d meet them back at the apartment because he had an errand to run. Junior had practically slammed the door of the van in his face.
“It’s a war zone and has been since the end of the Second World War,” Oz said, her eyes never leaving Finn.
“Why?” AJ asked.
“Before and during the war, Jews lived in Palestine in huge numbers, and many Jews escaping Europe during and before the war fled there too. It’s the Holy Land and the lands of their ancestors. They felt entitled to it, and many had family there already. After the war, the survivors flocked to Palestine in the thousands. Th
e British army set up camps and tried to keep them from entering the country when the Arabs instigated an immigration policy.”
“They called the British soldiers Nazis,” Finn said.
“Why?”
“Because the camps they set up were bitter reminders of the death camps many of the Jews had just survived. They were held in refugee camps on beaches, when all they wanted was to feel safe after surviving the Nazi genocide. They didn’t care that they were fed, treated with as much respect and sympathy as possible—they were still prisoners. And they wanted security. Wouldn’t you, given what they had just been through?” Finn asked.
“I guess. But this guy, Mehalik, he’s Palestinian, right? Not Jewish.”
“Yup,” Oz said. “In nineteen forty-seven, the United Nations declared an annexation of British-controlled Palestine to create the State of Israel. This was after two years of fighting terrorists and suffering huge losses of life in major bombing incidents like the attack at the King David Hotel where the British had set up their military headquarters. The retreat was set for May, nineteen forty-eight, and the Jewish militia was armed to the teeth and ready to fight to the death to claim their homeland. The Palestinians had been under British mandate, and they were unarmed and defenseless when the British left. They expected the Arab nations to come to their aid. And they did. They were just too late. By the time they were mobilized, it was all over. The Israelis controlled the area.”
“They’re still fighting over it now?”
“Yes. Some parts more openly than others, but yes. There have been numerous open wars over the last sixty-five years, and the Palestinians carry out suicide bombings, shootings, and so on as much as they can. The Israeli army is merciless in their retaliation for any terrorist attacks by the Palestinians.” Oz felt sick. The thought of taking Finn into a war zone made her head spin. “It makes for very difficult living conditions.”
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