Deceived (32 page)

From the
extreme left of his peripheral vision, Nick caught a blur of motion, the only
warning. A blow from Whitford's cane
—
hard, biting
—
struck Nick
across the forearms, breaking his grip on the gun
.

Nick looked up
at Whitford, now standing over him, face contorted in violence. His effort to
raise an arm in defense came an instant late, and the second stroke cracked the
back of his skull
.

Nick fought to
gain his feet, but the cane came down again, then again, on his shoulders, then
the back of his neck.

Nick fell off
the chair, rolled to the ground. He thought he heard a voice, Carolyn's voice,
yelling something, and then he was on all fours. He saw Whitford's shoes, just
for a moment, polished black and shiny, then the cane cracked down once more
and Nick's head exploded in a flash of light.

"My God,
Charles, what did you do?" Words
—
Carolyn's words
—
filtered
through to Nick's consciousness. He rolled his eyes but couldn't open them. He
didn't seem to have power over his body, not yet.

Two fingers
pressed against Nick's neck, and then came Carolyn's voice, choked with
emotion. "There's still a pulse. Thank God."

Feeling crept
back to Nick's body. To his head first. The pain almost caused him to black out
again
.

"
Why?
"
he heard Carolyn ask, her voice close. "For Christ's sake, why?"

Nick worked to
open his eyes; still they wouldn't obey. The sharp pain, centered at the back
of his head, grew stronger. Piercing.

"You heard
him, Carolyn," Whitford said, coldly. "We tried to explain
…we
tried
. He wouldn't listen."

Nick managed to
opened his eyes then, just for a moment, and in that instant caught Carolyn,
stooping to his side, hovering over him. And Whitford, the cane still clutched
tightly in his fist. Then their images began to go fuzzy, to lose their focus,
and the room began a slow spin. Nick shut his eyes again and fought to retain
consciousness.

"What
about the closed session of the Senate? We could have
—
" Nick heard
Carolyn say desperately, only to have Whitford interrupt
.

"When have
you ever,
ever
, known the Senate to keep a secret, Carolyn? Open
session, closed session, it wouldn't have made any difference. We
tried
to explain."

"We could
have tried harder."

"
He
wouldn't listen.
…
I'm sorry, Carolyn. God I'm sorry, but he didn't
leave me any choice."

"I've got
to call a doctor." Nick heard steps
—
Carolyn moving toward the
phone.

"
No
,"
Whitford shouted.

"What do
you mean no?"

Nick opened his
eyes again. The pain was still there, but was duller now, bearable.
Have to
get to my feet; protect myself.

"Everything
we've worked for will be lost. Too much is at stake, Carolyn. You know that. We
both know that." There was a short pause. "I'm going to get someone
in here," Whitford said.

"Who?"

Whitford didn't
answer.

"The man
at the gate?"

Another pause,
longer this time.

"Charles
…
Charles, look at me. You brought the man at the gate along in case Nick showed,
didn't you?"

"Stay
here." Whitford started for the double doors.

"You lied,
didn't you? You knew about the attack on Dennis today.
…Charles?
"

Whitford
turned; his voice flared. "What do you think, Carolyn? goddamn right I
knew about it. And if Li's man had done the job right the first time, like he
was supposed to, this all would have been over a long time ago. Ford doesn't
understand necessities, and I don't have time to make him understand. He
threatens everything
—
the national security interests of this country. By
now the scene of the shooting's been sanitized. There's nothing to link us to
it."

Carolyn's mouth
dropped open; it was a moment before she could speak. "What happened to
you?"

"What
happened to
me
?" Whitford barked. "Nothing happened to me. What
I want to know is what happened to
you
? Alternatives, remember? Put them
on the scale: one man's life against tens of thousands
…
maybe millions. How
naive are you? This isn't a game, and Ford won't be the first to die for his
country. How's this: Li had nothing to do with Frasier's death and it sure
wasn't an accident. Satisfied? That's reality, Carolyn, now deal with it."
He started again toward the doors.

"
Charles.
"

Nick coughed
involuntarily. A series that racked his body.

Whitford spun,
faced Nick. "He's waking up. Hand me the gun."

Carolyn picked
the gun off the desk and cradled it to her breast. "No."

Nick pulled a
hand in toward his body, tried to push himself to hands and knees. He groaned
at the feeble and failed attempt.

"The gun,
Carolyn," Whitford insisted again, taking a step in her direction.

"
No.
"

Whitford turned
the cane in his hand, gripping its end. "Very well." He raised the
cane over Nick, the heavy silver handle poised like a club head
.

"Don't do
it, Charles."

Whitford looked
to her, saw the barrel of the gun was now pointed in his direction, its tip
vibrating in time with her trembling hand. He paused, gauging her as he had
earlier gauged Nick. "This is hard for you, I know," he said softly. "But
it has to be done. With time you'll see that."

Nick again
tried to raise himself, and once more he failed.
Have to move. Have to roll.
Do something.
He looked up, into Whitford's eyes
—
hate shone down on
him as the cane began its descent
.

The cane
dropped in a smooth arc. Gathering speed
.

Nick tensed his
body, eyes wide.

A muffled splat
then, and with it the cane's trajectory jumped right. Its velocity slowed. Nick
continued to stare upwards, saw surprise, then fear, flood Whitford's eyes as
he bent double, forearms clamped against his right side, holding in a growing patch
of red.

The senator
staggered for a moment, mouthed something in Carolyn's direction, then crumpled
in on himself and fell to the ground. He landed facing Nick, only a few feet
distant. And as gravity took Whitford's slack skin, molding a distorted death
mask, Nick for the first time noticed Whitford's neck: thin, with flaps of
flesh pooling above his shirt collar. And Whitford's hands, marred by pea-sized
liver spots
.

No longer a
powerful man, no longer a man to fear.

Nick fought his
way to his elbow, and finally a sitting position. A rush of blood, and his head
again swam. He closed his eyes, held the back of his head, and hung on to
consciousness desperately.A few seconds later he turned to Carolyn, now sitting
at the chair behind the cherry desk staring off into space, the gun still in
her hands.

Only then did
Nick fully realize what had happen. "Carolyn
…
," he said, and
ran out of words.

"He would
have killed you," she replied, looking through Nick, speaking to no one.

"We should
call someone
…
a doctor."

Carolyn
regarded Whitford for a moment, then shook her head. "He's dead."

Meeting
Whitford's glazed eyes, open but unseeing, Nick realized she was right.

Tears started
down Carolyn's face. "What happened?" Her voice came remote and
broken. "What in God's name happened?"

"I'd like
to call the police now, Carolyn," Nick said gently.

Her eyes jumped
up and flared. "
No
," she insisted fiercely.

"Carolyn
…
it's
over now."

She trained the
gun in his direction. "No, it's not over."

Nick dipped his
head once, signaling agreement, and the gun barrel drifted downwards. They sat,
he staring at her, she staring blankly at Whitford. Finally, she said, "In
the beginning, everything seemed so clear.The things that happened
…
I
swear to God, Nick, I didn't know. After McKenzie fell from his balcony, I
harbored some doubts, but kept them locked away. I don't think I wanted to face
them. And what I
…
we
…
were trying to do
…
it was so important.
What happened to Scott, the attack on Meg, on you
…
You were all off the
case,
dammit
.
You should have been off the case
. No one had any
reason to touch you, that's what I thought."

Nick shut his
eyes.

"Forgive
me, Nick." Carolyn's voice dropped to almost a whisper. "I'm so
sorry. So very sorry." She paused, then continued. "I wasn't in on
things in the beginning. When you initiated the audit of the Yünnan Project, I
knew nothing. They didn't think they needed me then, didn't think you'd delve
into the subcontracts, thought Senator Whitford could control the scope of the
audit from the bench. They were wrong. They came to me then. Told me everything
you've heard today, and asked my help.

"Nick,
Burt Knowles
was
planning to retire, I would have strongly considered
you for his position anyway
…
believe that. You know how I respect your
abilities, it's just that
…
Their motivation, their purpose, was sound
—
Whitford
was right about that. Don't you see? All I did was promote you
—
that was
supposed to be the end of my involvement. If I knew how the lies would trap me,
involve me
…
knew what was going to happen to Scott, to Meg, to you, do
you think I ever would have agreed?

Carolyn shook
her head violently. "Was I wrong? Wrong to help a cause that started out
just? Decisions aren't black and white, Nick, they're shades of gray. Good
and
bad, right
and
wrong, inseparable sometimes. And all you can do is
balance the two and choose the alternative you
think
will do the most
good. If you were in my position, maybe you'd understand. Senators, cabinet
members, come to me and say national security requires bending the law just a
bit. At first you tell them no, but over time you see there
are
times
the law
doesn't
serve justice. Do you understand what I'm saying? Men
and women of courage serve their country, not a rule book."

"With all
that's happened, I find it hard to call Senator Whitford a man of
courage."

Carolyn raised
her head. "Senator Whitford was a good man. A solid man, who loved his
country. He just believed in what he was doing so desperately that he
…
,"
she looked to Whitford's fallen body, "
…
he lost his compass. A
number of people lost their compass."

"Who,
Carolyn? Give me names."

Carolyn shook
her head. "You think exposing them would help? I don't. Sometimes
revealing a wrong causes more harm than good. Yes, Nixon was a flawed
character, yes he covered-up Watergate, but did exposing his role help this
country or did it cripple us? We lost Vietnam; then came Cambodia and the Khmer
Rouge. One million Cambodians killed, how many Vietnamese boat people, all
because of high minded people who insisted we expose our dirty laundry. Things
went on in the Kennedy administration every bit as criminal as Watergate. If
they'd been disclosed, would JFK have had the moral authority to face down the
Russians during the Cuban missile crisis? It's a not a game out there, Nick. The
world plays for keeps, not gold stars. I believe in what I did. Called upon to
serve my country, I served. I have no regrets about my decision, just the way
…
the
way everything's turned out."

"People
have to take responsibility
…
"

"I can't
avoid
it. Do you think I've slept through a night in the last month? Do you think my
stomach didn't sour every time I spoke with you? My hands are dirty. So dirty I
can't ever get them clean.
…
All I can try to do is help."

Carolyn picked
up the phone, pinned it between her shoulder and ear, then punched in a number.

"What are
you doing?" Nick asked.

"I'm going
to try to give you something more tangible than apologies." After a couple
of seconds, she spoke into the phone. "This is Carolyn Reed." A long
pause, perhaps a full minute, followed.

Nick looked to
Carolyn, questioningly. Her face gave him no clue as to what might come next
.

When Carolyn
spoke again, her voice was gruff. "I just learned someone targeted Nick
Ford today." After another pause, Carolyn continued; Nick monitoring her
side of the conversation. "Senator Whitford confirmed the fact.
…
I'm
not calling to argue what you knew or didn't know.
…
What do I want? I
want the order rescinded, immediately.
…
No, I don't believe you.
…
Immediately.
You have no choice
…
I'll tell you why, because a few hours ago I put
together four packets of information, everything I know about the project. Names,
dates, events. I've mailed them, using various carriers, various drop points to
confidants. With each I included a letter with simple instructions. If Nick
Ford should disappear or die, in an accident or otherwise, the information in
those packets is to be released to the newspapers.
…
Otherwise they
remain buried.
…
Believe me, I have thought this out.
…
Why? Because
Ford's an innocent bystander.
…
No, he's not a threat. I've convinced him
that the men who came after him were sent by John Li. A hit against Dennis
Lindsay that he got in the middle of. It would make sense if you do what you
can to support that fiction."

There was a long
pause on Carolyn's part; finally she said, "Talking to me won't do any
good.
…
You're right, you don't have much choice. Rescind the order.
…
No,
rescind the order
…
Good.
…
The senator's with me right now.
…
Unfortunately
he can't; he's indisposed.
…
Where am I? I'm in hell, Director. I've been
there for quite some time."

Carolyn hung up
the phone and looked to Nick. "Your get out of jail free card," she
whispered after a moment
.

Nick had
followed enough of the conversation to understand what had transpired. "The
packets of information?" he asked.

"I've put
together nothing, mailed nothing
—
but they don't know that. I do know
names, Nick. Dates and events. They can't risk all I know making its way to the
press.
…
You're safe now
—
they don't dare touch you
—
but I
won't give you the tools to destroy what we did."