I watched him as he processed the information. If he hadn't tested the drug on himself, first, years ago, he'd probably be dead. He was one-hundred-six years old and looked seventy-five years younger than that. His face and hair bore the wind-burned look of someone who'd been working in Antarctica until a few days before, but he still appeared too young to have numerous degrees behind his name.
Seeing him had given me information on the drug itself, and it was frightening. I shoved it aside—if I thought too much about it, I'd have the mother of all panic attacks. Even he didn't know everything about it, and that in itself was frightening enough.
"I hope you know that I wanted to halt the Program after the first volunteers died. That was taken out of my hands."
"You don't have much love for the previous occupant of the White House, do you?" I asked.
"None. I begged him to stop, but he already had the product and ordered the study to continue, with or without me. The only reason I stayed with it was to protect the ones I could—the ones who survived. When President Sanders was elected, I didn't feel quite as obligated—she wanted to protect the survivors as well. That's why I went on my Antarctic expedition—to clear my mind."
"Any luck with that?" Rafe asked.
"Not much."
"You thought that since the animal trials were successful, and your first human recipient—you—was a success, you felt it was safe to give to others," I said.
"Yes. That turned out to be the biggest mistake of my life. You have no idea how much I regret that. It was simple enough—we found by trial and error, almost, that an older animal would become young again. When I tested the drug on myself, I discovered it had other benefits."
"What benefits?"
"I can heal many illnesses. Sadly, I cannot heal anyone who is destined to die after taking the drug. I tried that. It didn't work."
"Has Colonel Hunter given you information on those sent to eliminate us?" Rafe asked. "Several of them appear to be clones—exact replicas, down to their fingerprints."
"That is frightening," Richard murmured. "Do we still have the bodies? Might I have a look?"
"I believe you should ask," I said.
* * *
Notes—Colonel Hunter
"I'd be more than happy to let you examine them. The President ordered that the bodies be held without further examination until she found someone she trusted," I said. Richard Farrell sat in my office, asking questions after having a conversation with Corinne.
I shouldn't have been surprised.
"We have one other we captured alive, but he refuses to talk," I said. "We can't identify him, either, but so far we haven't found any replicas of him."
"I'd like to take a look," Dr. Farrell said. "At all of them."
"You're hired," I said. "How soon can you start?"
"Immediately, although I'll need equipment and supplies to run tests."
"If you can solve this riddle for us, I think you can have anything you want."
* * *
Corinne
It's amazing what can be accomplished in a short time with sufficient motivation. Dr. Farrell had a makeshift lab built in the villa's garages in less than a week. During that time, I knew Nick was closing in on Becker and Gene.
I hoped he'd call for help if he needed it. Auggie hadn't asked me for a report in the last six hours, although I could tell he was getting fidgety. After a brief training session, Maye had been sent to work at the Smithsonian.
She was equipped with tiny cameras and a wire, which several people at the villa monitored. She was posing as a staff photographer, who would be looking for ideal candidates among visitors to include in a brochure. She'd be backed up by several agents, too, who'd come running if she spotted the quarry. I had the idea that Mary Evans would show up, I just didn't know how or when at the moment.
"Bodies just arrived," Ilya said, pulling a curtain back and peeking through the blinds on one of our windows.
"Great. I really don't want to see them, but if it's necessary," I shrugged and kept typing. Yes, I was back to writing the book, but I'd hit the backspace key more than I'd typed words in the past three days.
More than anything, I wanted answers to the puzzles we'd been handed to solve, but without the proper people, I couldn't get to them.
Dr. Farrell agreed to keep Ilya's invisibility trick secret—for now. If the enemy learned of it, they'd know to look for ways around it.
"Ilya?" I stopped typing.
"Cabbage?"
"I think Auggie's about to be hit with divorce papers."
"Not good."
"Very not good. I understand how his wife might be tired of being alone all the time, but this isn't the best time for him to have that pain in his life."
"Should we tell him?"
"Honey, that's a terrible idea."
"What about Dr. Shaw?"
"I don't know," I leaned my head back and moaned.
"I know this troubles you, but it is not your difficulty to sort."
"But if Auggie is distracted, we have a problem."
"Possibly," he agreed. "What about Nick?"
"I think tonight's the night."
"I will be quite interested to see if he survives this."
"That makes two of us."
"How long before we can couple again?" His fingers dropped to my temples and rubbed them gently.
"I don't know. Maybe you should e-mail Leo. I don't have a headache at the moment."
"I don't wish to be the reason you get one."
"Who do you think is sending assassins after you?" I asked. He pulled his hand away.
"Baikov. If he suspects I still live, he will do his best to kill me."
"That means that some of those dead guys could have been sent by him?"
"Yes, although it would be difficult to say how he received the information that I live."
"What if Cutter managed to get a message to him—through Mary Evans and her boss?"
"Such information would command a very high price. I suspect that the Ambassador's death is tied to the same information. He paid guards and cleared the way for my escape from prison."
"He was a friend?"
"Yes. Unlike others I have been forced to associate with, he was trustworthy."
"I'm sorry your friend is dead."
"Many others have died searching for the truth of this, and even with your formidable talents, we have not found an answer," Ilya said. "We have the secondary players, but the primary? We have no clues. We do not know what he wants, other than to create fear and panic."
"What will Cutter's backers do with the information locked in Becker's blood?" I asked. "If Nick gets to him tonight, will it be too late? I worry that they have a large enough sample to do whatever they want and no longer need him or Gene."
"Gene should have realized that he was worthless to them, except to convince Becker to defect from the Program. He is no longer useful." Ilya's hands were back and lifting my top. His fingers went to my breasts, where they tweaked my nipples through the thin fabric of my bra.
"Wow, espionage and foreplay at the same time," I said.
"Shhh," he whispered and pinched my nipples carefully while kissing my neck. "You will let me know if your head hurts. Immediately."
"Are you the boss again?"
"Very much so."
* * *
Notes—Colonel Hunter
I'd been worried that it could happen for a while, but now the evidence was presented in a private e-mail from her hired attorney. Laci wanted a divorce, citing incompatibility.
I realized that a spouse should expect their partner to be a partner. A part of me felt relief—we'd been growing apart for a while. Another part felt anger—I always provided for her. She never wanted children, so we didn't have any.
I needed a lawyer.
I didn't mind letting her have the house or most of the other things, but it needed to be as civil as we could make it.
Divorces are always
messy.
A friend told me that, once.
I didn't have time for this.
I'm sure Corinne could have told me how many complications swirled about us, and I'd never told Laci how close we'd come to getting killed in London and Edinburgh. She only knew that she'd been forced out of the house and sent to her mother's in Pittsburgh.
Maybe she didn't care that my life was in danger. I wanted to pick up the phone and ask her if she still loved me.
I couldn't do that.
"Fuck," I muttered and started a new file on my computer, simply labeled Divorce.
* * *
Nick
The house was on fire. Gene and Becker were dead inside it. Cutter and two guards managed to shoot their way out and escape in a bulletproof SUV. I had a graze on my shoulder to show for it.
The problem? Cutter knew I was alive. Probably guessed that reports of my death, along with the others, was just a sham—an attempt to fool him and his cronies. I watched as the roof caved in with a crash and another, lower-level window blew out, raining glass on the lawn.
I smiled grimly. The property was located far from any town, didn't have a fire hydrant close and would burn to the ground before anyone could arrive to help. Gene and Becker would be blackened, useless corpses when they were pulled from the debris.
"Ready?" Davis gave me a nod when I spoke. We loaded into his Range Rover and took off in the opposite direction. I figured we'd need Corinne's help to get Cutter, and I didn't want to place my friends in more danger than they already were by trying to track him myself.
I'd call Jeff first, to see whether I'd be welcomed back to the villa or if a cell waited for me, instead.
* * *
Corinne
I knew the minute he showed up in the downstairs kitchen for dinner, instead of going to the one over the garages.
Auggie's wife had asked for a divorce.
"Here," I set a plate of spaghetti in front of him and went to get another plate for myself. Rafe gave me a slight nod and placed a generous slice of garlic cheese bread on Auggie's plate.
We ate in silence for the most part. I didn't tell Auggie that the house where Becker, Gene and Cutter had been staying in a remote area of Utah was burning, or that Cutter managed to escape but Gene and Becker never made it out. That could wait until later.
Actually, I expected Nick to give Jeff a call, which would be transferred to Auggie afterward. Nick would tell Auggie that most of the job was finished and then ask if he could come home.
I figured Auggie would say yes, with the promise of a stern talking-to when Nick got back. Nick probably expected that much at the very least.
Ilya, I thought at him, Cutter just became more of a liability.
Chapter 14
Notes—Colonel Hunter
"Nick, are you sure they're dead?" I asked.
"Yes, Colonel Hunter. I made sure of it. The guards there protected Cutter and got him out of the house, but I think I winged him before they drove off."
"Then I'll have the FBI take charge of the bodies—they'll be brought here," I said. "How long will it take for you to get back?"
"Not long, if you arrange for transport."
"Where are you now?"
"Outside Provo."
"Then I'll make arrangements. I hope you don't mind driving instead of flying. Will you be at this number when I call you back?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. I'll call you back in fifteen." After ending the call, I shouted for James.
"Sir?" He appeared in my doorway.
"Get Corinne and Rafe in here."
"Right away."
* * *
Corinne
I felt sorry for James—Auggie was working late, therefore James was also working late. Rafe and I walked in after James called us, and took seats in Auggie's office.
"I got a call from Nick," Auggie said immediately. "Becker and Gene are dead and probably pretty toasty by now. Nick burned the house down around them, but Cutter got away. Any idea where he might be, Cori?"
"On his way to Canada in a small plane, if he isn't already over the border," I shrugged.
"Tell me why we ought to keep him alive." Auggie's words surprised me.
"The only reason for him to still be breathing is that he may know how to contact the one who's orchestrating all of these things," I said.
"I want him dead," August huffed. "I don't care where he dies, I want him dead."
"Will the President implicate him in the Sacramento bombing?" Rafe asked.
"I don't know." Auggie dropped his face in his hands. "She should, but we still don't know who's funding his activities. We've hit a wall on the money—it's likely coming from offshore accounts."
"Not good," Rafe said.
"There are other complications, too," August sighed and dropped his hands to blink at us. "The President is scheduling a trip to Sacramento for a memorial service. She intends to speak at the service, then meet privately with the Governor afterward. I'm going, too, and I want both of you with us when we go."
* * *
Notes—Colonel Hunter
"Shaw, I'm naming you my second-in-command," I said. I'd asked him to meet me for a drink in what we'd come to think of as Corinne's kitchen. She had some fine Scotch there, so I poured for both of us. "If anything happens to me, then you're in charge of the Program until the President says otherwise."
"If anyone else asked, I'd refuse," Shaw said, lifting his glass in a toast. "Cheers."
"Why?" I asked after downing my first shot and pouring another.
"Because I haven't trusted anyone before you who's been in charge of the Program."
"Even Safer?"
"Come on, Safer never intended to be in charge. He liked where he was. Did you talk to him about this?"
"I did. He said he'd be happy to step aside now, as he has full confidence in you."
"That's good to know." Shaw emptied his glass and held it out for more. "Corinne has good taste in Scotch."
"And the money to buy the good stuff," I agreed. "She asked James to order a case of this right after we moved in here. Probably realized we'd need it."
"How much would a case of twenty-five-year Macallan cost, anyway?"
"Corinne doesn't seem to care about that."
"Right now, I'm glad. This is really good."
"I sent a list to you already, of things I'd like for you to do in certain circumstances if you find yourself in charge," I said. "Let me know if you have a problem with any of them."
"I will."
* * *
Corinne
"I hate packing," I said. "I hate dresses more." Our suitcases were spread across the bed, both in various stages of packing.
"You look good in them, cabbage."
"Right. I hope we won't need this thing," I shook my head after stuffing the dress bag into my suitcase. Heels followed, as did a new wig, a contacts case and a makeup kit. I'd have to wear the wig and contacts while appearing in public with Madam President, but I hoped there were no events requiring a dress.
Sacramento would be warm enough in late spring so I wouldn't need a heavier jacket. Ilya had to pack his dark suit and tie.
"Too bad we can't stay a few nights in San Francisco—I love it there," Ilya said.
"Why, you little spy, you," I turned and tickled his ribs.
"What's not to love about clam chowder in a sourdough bread bowl?" he grinned.
"I wish we could go, too. By ourselves. Just to do touristy things and eat and sleep late in a nice hotel."
"Someday, we will do those things."
"Honey, I hope you're right."
* * *
Six o'clock comes early, when you have to get up at five and get ready to drive to the White House, after which you have to take a helicopter to an airbase and fly from there to California.
"Corinne, you look tired," Auggie said when we walked toward Air Force One.
"Early mornings," I mumbled. "No Starbucks."<
br />
"There will be coffee on the plane." The President walked past us, flanked by Secret Service agents. "Breakfast, too."
Most people might have apologized to Madam President. Or thanked her.
I wasn't in the mood.
On any given day, who's to say who is more important than those who surround them? We both had jobs to do. Some people are just more cheerful than others early in the morning. I'm not in the cheerful camp.
"Cabbage," Rafe cautioned.
"Yeah."
When the President was far enough ahead, Auggie snickered.
"Auggie," I warned.
"Yeah."
* * *
"Where did that come from?" August read what I typed over my shoulder while we flew over Chicago.
I worked on my book while Rafe sat beside me and Auggie held a cup of coffee in his hands and read what I typed.
"This is my fancy tablet," I said. "James ordered it for me. It's not as heavy or as big as a laptop, and the cover is a keyboard. It fits in my purse," I added.
"James has an ulterior motive," Auggie said. "He wants the ending on that book."
"I'm working on it," I said. "It keeps me from worrying about other stuff."
"Anything I should be concerned about?" Auggie asked.
"I sure hope not," I said.
* * *
The first thing on our agenda when we arrived in Sacramento was to go to the bombed capitol building with the Governor. It was time to pull on my wig so I could appear in public with Madam President.
Rafe and I had gone blond for this event, and not by choice. I figured James' fantasies probably played a role in the choice of hair color, but I didn't say that.
News crews packed a nearby parking lot as we drove into the designated area at the ruined capitol building. We had half an hour scheduled there before we loaded into the vehicle again and drove to the memorial service.
"Cori, are we being watched?" Auggie said beside me as we walked a few discreet steps behind the President and the Governor.
"By millions," I gave the obvious answer. "If you mean are we being watched by somebody who wants us dead, well, I think that's a given. I just don't feel them close," I added.
"Good. Let me know if that changes."
"Will do."
I'd already checked the Secret Service agents and the guards with the Governor. So far, so good. They were doing their jobs and weren't bent on destruction.
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