You son of a bitch. “As for attitude—” Cyn shrugged and didn’t break eye contact. “I’ve got a very good attitude toward sex, Günter. The only real trouble is that I get bored very easily, and I hate being bored.”
The intensity of his hot, still-angry eyes bored through her. “Why should I care about that? I am not some boy toy interested in providing you with relief from boredom or anything else. The burden is on you to please me. And I’m not easy to please.”
“I can tell. And that’s a good thing, because I’ve already demonstrated how much I love a challenge.” She paused. “I’ll be in your cabin whenever you’re ready, Captain,” she finished in a whisper, then turned to walk away, knowing his eyes were following her.
9:15 P.M., Saturday, October 25, Embassy of Taino, Washington, D.C.
Neither the cry-out nor the shower had helped much. The day felt a week old when Victoria was ushered into the second-floor office of Ambassador Charlie Deen, Dennis’s friend, confidant, and go-to man for many years, and one of the calmest, most easygoing men she’d ever known. She came to a stop near one of the wing chairs and remained standing, too tense to sit, until he ended his phone call.
Their eyes met. He looked as weary as she felt.
“That was Dennis.”
“How is he doing?”
“Mad as hell that you still want him under wraps.”
“But he’s staying under wraps?” she asked.
Charlie nodded. “Barely. He’s been on the phone with the families of the passengers.”
Victoria felt a surge of anger rush through her, pushing away the exhaustion threatening to dull her brain. “Why did he do that? He might as well have—”
“They were his friends, Vic. He knows them. He knows their kids, their husbands and wives.” He shrugged. “You’ve got him hog-tied, and he’s not a man to put up with that for long.”
“He couldn’t wait a few more hours? There’s nothing to tell them, anyway,” she snapped, and let herself drop into a chair. “Other than that they were on the plane when it went down.”
“Have the feds contacted you again?”
“You mean since I stepped out of the car?” She gave him a grim smile. “No, but they will. They’re pretty sure they know who’s behind it, although the motives are a bit dodgy. You’ve heard of Garner Blaylock?”
Charlie nodded. “The tree hugger.”
“Ecoterrorist,” Victoria said crisply. “With an army of brainwashed Bond girls who carry out his whims, apparently.”
Charlie laughed. “Seriously?”
Victoria shrugged. “That’s what my new best friend in Washington thinks.”
“Who’s that?”
“Some spook named Tom Taylor.”
“Never heard of him.”
“I’m sure no one has. I doubt it’s his real name. He’s one of those professionally anonymous people. But he’s adamant that Blaylock was behind the plane crash.” She pulled in a deep breath. “He has pictures of Blaylock with Wendy. And he said Blaylock was flown out of the country on one of our jets this morning.”
Charlie frowned and tapped the manila folder in front of him. “This report states flight plans were filed and executed for a trip from Miami to Algiers via Spain this morning. Authorized by Wendy.”
Great. Victoria closed her eyes.
“What does he think Blaylock’s motives are?” Charlie asked.
“The mining operation,” she replied bluntly.
“They know about it? The feds, I mean?”
Victoria met his eyes. “It’s not much of a leap, Charlie. I’m not sure how much they know, but it’s an open secret that the methane is down there, and they know we’re doing something requiring a lot of heavy equipment and creative minds. He admitted the U.S. has had us under satellite surveillance for months. I’m sure they don’t know how we’re doing it or when. Short of having someone on the payroll, they can’t know those things.”
“Do you suppose they have someone on the payroll?” he asked after a moment.
“I’ve been mulling that over, Charlie, and I just don’t see it. I’m sure we don’t have any American moles. Or free-range terrorists. Other than Wendy, I mean. That she was involved is a strong possibility based on what Taylor told me.” She stopped and shrugged. “What keeps stopping me from buying into it is the suicidal aspect. There were no indications of that sort of instability in her.”
“Pharmaceuticals?”
Victoria shook her head. “According to Mr. Taylor, Blaylock’s weapons of choice are sex and emotional blackmail. Two more things that don’t fit Wendy Watson’s profile.”
“People change.” Charlie leaned back in his chair. “If they’re right about Blaylock and his group being behind it, and about them being aware of the mining, the motives are pretty clear. Kill the industrialists who kill the environment. And use Wendy to do it. Would you call that symmetry or dramatic irony?”
She ignored the question. “Then why wouldn’t Blaylock come forward and take credit for the crash? We haven’t released the passenger list yet, so he could trump us by revealing who was on the plane. Only a few people know the rescue operation has become a recovery op.” She leaned her head against the back of the chair. “By morning, things will have changed. The CEOs of nine major conglomerates, each of which have greater annual revenue than the GDP of several small nations, will be declared missing and presumed dead. The Asian markets will open with a roar. Other than the ‘glory’ of having perpetrated an act of terrorism with global implications, I don’t see what’s in it for Blaylock.”
“Possibly stopping or delaying the mining operation.”
“If he knows about it.”
“At this point, if he’s involved in any way, he knows about it. Realistically, Vic, how long before the world knows about it? It’s supposed to begin tomorrow.”
“Speculation is already rife, Charlie, but it’s just that: speculation. We’re the only people who know for sure what’s going on down there. Even the Americans aren’t completely certain.”
Charlie said nothing for a few minutes, then glanced down at some papers on his desk.
“How sure are you that no one else knows about it?” he asked quietly.
The hair on the back of her neck went rigid as seconds ticked by and he didn’t meet her eyes.
“Wendy was the only weak link, Charlie,” she said fiercely. “Not only is she dead, but she knew nothing about the mining operation or the habitat. She couldn’t have told him anything. She never remained on the island for any length of time, and she didn’t associate with anyone from the island except for the people who took care of the planes and the other aviation personnel. She and the flight crew were based in Miami.” She paused. “Do you know something?”
“No. But I have a real bad feeling about this. If the Americans are saying that she wasn’t a random pickup in some bar, that she was targeted—well, it makes sense, Vic. Wendy never struck me as suicidal, either. And she didn’t seem to be the type to fall for a load of flowery, airy-fairy shit about an earth mother, but it could be that’s exactly what she did.” Charlie shrugged. “Otherwise you’re saying Blaylock, a blatant psychopath and convicted terrorist, met her, bonked her, and then decided ‘oh, what the hell, let’s see if I can get her to blow up a plane.’”
Victoria felt her stomach plummet. “He’s a convicted terrorist?”
“Oh, your copper didn’t tell you that? Yes, the Brits threw him in prison for a few years. I can’t remember exactly what for.”
She wanted to put her head in her hands and wake up from this nightmare. Instead, she just kept her gaze trained on Charlie. “If Blaylock did target Wendy, he’s had our organization under close surveillance for some time—” she said slowly.
“Unless he had someone inside doing the watching for him.”
His words were like a slap and she barely stopped herself from recoiling.
“So what made him decide to watch us?” he asked, his eyes bori
ng into hers.
Victoria blinked. “Charlie, it’s not like we’ve never heard of Garner Blaylock. We’ve been one of his targets for a while. Ten years ago his group tried to stop the wind turbine farm Dennis wanted to build off the south coast of England.”
“He was small-time then. Now he brings down a plane full of people, and you think he’s targeting Atlantis. That’s a big change in tactics, Vic. It’s a big change in the scale of his attempts. What’s behind it? Why us, and why now?” His voice was as hard and sharp as flint, and Victoria stared at him for a moment, the sinking feeling in her stomach reinforcing a new sense of dread. This wasn’t the Charlie she knew.
She spread her hands, palms up, as if presenting him with her words. “Blaylock knows that Dennis is a very vocal proponent of alternative energy. Dennis constantly talks about wind, solar, tidal, and other energy technologies and has begun to mention methane hydrate in the last few months. Blaylock also knows that Dennis funds energy research. It wouldn’t be much of a leap to assume that Dennis is involved in applied research on methane-hydrate harvesting. And a simple Google search would mention a suspected deposit in the trench near Taino.”
Charlie shook his head. “Not good enough, Vic. It still doesn’t explain how he would have gotten his timing down.”
“Don’t make the mistake of assuming Garner Blaylock is acting from a rational point of view, Charlie. His timing could be a fluke.”
“How long did this American intel guy tell you Wendy had been involved with Blaylock?”
“A few months.”
“He had to be awfully persuasive if it only took him a few months to convince Wendy, of all people, to go postal and kill a planeload of people and herself. And what about the time he needed to plan it and execute it? It doesn’t make sense to me, Vic.”
“It wasn’t just any plane full of people, Charlie. It was—”
“I know who was on the plane,” he said tiredly, lowering his gaze to the top of the desk, “and what they represented. But companies rebound and so do markets, and this will be old news to most people by next week. There will be an earthquake somewhere, or a wildfire, or some movie star will go into rehab or have a baby, and the world will dismiss this plane crash as yesterday’s news. But if the Americans are right and Blaylock knows what we’re doing, then he will continue trying to stop it. Shut us down. And he would also have realized a while ago that the only way to get close enough to the operation to harm it is with inside help.” He looked up at her again. “If he knew that much about our organization and structure, he also knew Wendy Watson wasn’t the person to get him inside information.”
Victoria stared at him and found it hard to breathe as a hard churn began inside her. “You think someone set her up.”
“Yes, and not just ‘someone,’ Vic. Someone high up.”
They looked at each other as a cold silence settled in the room. Neither had to say what was on their mind: that that “someone” was still in the organization.
“On Taino, or here in the embassy?” Victoria asked quietly.
“On Taino,” he replied.
“Who?” she asked, feeling a chill settle over her as the uneasiness that had been haunting her all day set up a sentry in her brain.
“Someone who knew Wendy, who knew what would work on her, who knew her vulnerabilities.” Now Charlie’s gaze met hers unflinchingly. “There are only two people in the organization who have access to that information. They are also the only ones who know nearly everything there is to know about the operation—and, therefore, have the means to cripple it. You are one of them. Micki is the other.”
Without a gasp or a startled exhalation, Victoria’s breath simply stopped and her field of view shrank to just Charlie’s face, just his cool, dark, neutral eyes.
“You left. She stayed behind. Either one of you could be the mole, or you could both be complicit.”
“Charlie, you can’t be serious. You don’t suspect me,” she said in a choked whisper.
“Were Dennis to have been killed, you would have become the titular head of state.”
“But he’s not dead. And I was with him when we heard of the explosion—” she breathed.
“Dennis was supposed to be on that plane, Victoria. He surprised everyone by not being on that plane, even you, I’d guess. Very few people know he didn’t make the flight, but you haven’t released that information to the public. Instead, you’ve released virtually no information and you have persuaded him to remain out of sight of the world for twenty-four hours. Micki’s there to ensure that that happens.” He paused, and in the space of that moment, Victoria saw his eyes harden. “If he were assassinated now, few people would be the wiser.”
She swallowed, if only to get some moisture into her suddenly dry mouth. “You think I want to kill Dennis? For what?”
“I don’t know the answer to that, Vic. You’ll have to tell me, or prove to me that you’re not the one who did this. Until then, you’re under house arrest. On Dennis’s orders.”
Shocked almost beyond the ability to speak, her heart pounding in her chest, she stared at him and rose slowly to her feet. “Charlie, you can’t—”
“I’m sorry, Victoria. I wish I could see other possibilities, but there aren’t any others to see.” He stood, came around the desk, and escorted her to the door. “I suggest we meet again first thing in the morning. If I need you before then, I’ll send for you.”
Feeling caught in a rushing, nightmarish void of her own making, Victoria found herself flanked by her own carefully blank-faced security staff. They silently escorted her back to her suite, then left.
She sank into one of the slipper chairs near the silently burning fire-place and stared at the swaying, jumping flames. She had no idea how much time passed before she was able to begin the struggle to make sense of what had just happened.
Finally, with a shaking hand, she reached for the telephone sitting on the small table next to her.
“Good evening, Secretary Clark. How may I help you?” The female voice on the other end was crisp and professional.
I’m not even allowed to place my own calls.
She wondered if someone was posted outside the door, but felt too dispirited to check. Closing her eyes, Victoria willed away the nausea puckering her stomach. “I’d like to place a call to Taino. To President Cavendish’s private line, please. Scrambled to Level One,” she added, indicating that the highest level of security should be employed.
“One moment.”
Knowing the call was being recorded, if not actively monitored, Victoria concentrated on her breathing, her mind racing too fast for any coherent thoughts to form.
“Please hold, Secretary Clark. President Cavendish will be on the line shortly.”
“Thank you.” Ten minutes passed before Dennis picked up the call.
“Yes?” His voice was abrupt, his fury obvious.
“Dennis, what are you doing?” Victoria blurted, her voice a hoarse rasp. “Charlie has me under house arrest. You told him I’m behind the crash. That I want to kill you.” Bending over double in the chair, her head sinking to below her knees, Victoria drew in a tortured breath. But she couldn’t stop her voice from breaking. “How could you think that? What’s happened to you?”
“I am not interested in questions from you. I’m interested in answers. Do you have any?” he snapped.
Victoria straightened, then rose shakily to her feet and moved to the window. She’d selected the window coatings herself. Any electronic signals attempting to penetrate it from inside or out would be randomly scattered and absorbed. The room was completely secure. And, now, that security was being used against her.
Resting her head against the cool glass, Victoria pulled in another deep breath. “On the trip from the airport to the embassy, I had a long conversation with someone from one of the American intelligence agencies. He’s pretty certain an ecoterrorist group was behind the bombing of the plane. There’s evidence that Wendy was in
volved,” she said bluntly. “That she was somehow convinced to, I don’t know, give someone access to the plane, or—” She faltered to a stop.
Her words were met with a short silence. Then, “Wendy wouldn’t have killed herself.”
Sidestepping that argument for the moment, Victoria continued carefully, “The group is known as GAIA. It’s based out of England and its leader is Garner Blaylock. We’ve encountered them before. The group takes the principles of that Earth First! group and pushes them farther into the land of crazy. They believe the earth is a living thing and that humans are to blame for destroying it and must be made to pay. They’ve been launching attacks on agribusiness and pharma conglomerates for years—”
“Wendy Watson would not have killed herself, Vic,” Dennis repeated, interrupting her. “She didn’t make it through the Air Force Academy and all those years in Afghanistan to blow herself up like some fucking suicide bomber. Not for some long-haired pissant eco-fucking-terrorist.”
“She might not have known what he intended to do. She might not even have known who Blaylock was. The agent made it sound like she was targeted. Maybe she was, was just swept off her feet and he got the information out of her that he needed. Your travel schedule. When you were flying and on which plane. That’s all he would have needed.” Victoria stopped and pressed one hand against her stomach as if to quell the nausea, then continued shakily, “I don’t know. None of us know exactly what happened, Dennis, except that that plane is down and you were supposed to be on it. The agent I spoke with believes that you were the primary target of that plane crash. If GAIA learns that you aren’t dead, they could try again, Dennis,” she finished slowly.
“Thanks to you, they already know that I’m alive, don’t they?”
She frowned and stared at her reflection in the darkened glass. “What are you talking about?”
“The message you sent right before you left the island. To someone named Gigi Blaine.”
“I don’t know anyone by that name. I don’t recall there being anyone by that name connected with Taino or the institute,” Victoria replied slowly.
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