Heroes Never Die (12 page)

“I never meant to hurt you,” she whimpered.

“Oh?  Brian isn’t here, so prove it.”  He slowly moved his hand over her breasts and down the length of her body.  “I still want you, Stephanie.”  Then he kissed her.

Stephanie pulled her mouth away.  “Get off of me!” she screamed.  “I hate you!”

Kyle grabbed her by the collar and jerked her close to his face.  “If I can’t have you, I’m going to make damn sure that  Brian can’t have you, either.”  Then he shoved her head back into the sofa.  He lifted himself off of her and watched her buckle over in tears.  He grabbed their wedding picture from the mantel and walked back over to Stephanie.  “You made a big mistake when you married Brian, but you made an even bigger mistake when you thought I would just walk away.  Do you see this?” he asked as he held the picture in front of her face.  When he had her attention, he hurled the picture across the room.  Stephanie jumped when she heard the shattering glass.  “That’s what’s going to happen to your marriage.  Paybacks are hell, aren’t they, Stephanie?”

He took hold of her chin and turned her frightened eyes away from the broken glass.  “I’ll see you at six-thirty sharp in the morning.  Sweet dreams, ladylove.”  Then he left, slamming the door behind him.

Stephanie jumped to her feet and ran to lock the door.  She collapsed onto the floor, sobbing with fear and pain.  “Brian!” she called as her eyes searched the room as though he might suddenly appear.  “Brian!”  Over and over she cried out to him, but Brian never answered.  She looked up at the phone.  Was there anyone she could call for help?  Then she saw her suitcase, still packed and resting in the foyer.  Was there any place she could run and hide, or would Kyle carry out his threat to kill Brian if she did?  She pulled herself up from the floor and walked over to their wedding picture.  She carefully removed the picture from its broken frame, shook off the shards of glass, and tenderly stroked Brian’s face with the tip of her finger.  If the President refused to help her, she would cooperate to save Brian.  Then she hugged the picture to her heart, hoping that Brian would feel the strength of her love.

Chapter Twelve:

The next morning, Stephanie made certain she was ready on time so that Kyle wouldn’t seize the opportunity to come to the door.  She stood at the window and watched for his dark blue jaguar.  He was right on time.

When she climbed into his car, Kyle grinned with smug satisfaction.  “God, you’re gorgeous in the morning.  What I wouldn’t have done to wake up next to you.  You blew it, Stephanie.”  She glared at him with snarling detestation.

“Do you remember Barry Braxton from the Presidential Ball?” he asked as he turned off of her street.

Stephanie angrily lowered her brow.  It was difficult enough to be in the car with him, but having to talk to him as well would kill her.  “I remember,” she coldly mumbled.

“Barry will be overseeing this operation.  He set up a meeting with the President.  Pat is anxious to see you again.  I think he likes you, Stephanie.”

Stephanie wondered when Kyle had started calling the President by his nickname, and whether his contemptuous mirth was just a put-on to scare her.  Even if it was an act, her last glimpse of hope was quickly fading.

***

Kyle led Stephanie to Barry’s executive office.  She had never seen such a lavish office.  She thought it looked more like a plush studio, with dark beveled woods, upholstered furniture, and matching drapes made from rich fabric.  His office even had its own dining chamber.  Barry politely stood to welcome Stephanie.  “It’s nice to see you again, Stephanie.”  He seemed pleasant, but Stephanie didn’t know him well enough to interpret his solemn expression.  He turned directly to business.  “Kyle told me he already gave you a brief description of this operation.  Today we’re going to spell out every detail.  Have a seat,” he invited as he waved his hand toward a black mahogany chair in front of his desk, “and we’ll go over the format.”

Stephanie took her seat and defiantly crossed her arms.  “Did Kyle also tell you that I want nothing to do with this?”

“Let’s get something straight right away.  Kyle’s plan is flawless.  And he’s in charge of training you.  Whatever he says goes.”

It took a moment for Stephanie to comprehend the shock.  The leader of the CIA had given Kyle complete control of her life.  She glared at Kyle, wanting to claw his eyes out.  He was perched in his favorite place on the edge of the desk, his arms folded, and his face solemn.  She wondered what was going through his mind.  Is he enjoying watching me suffer?

Barry returned to his chair, his mind alert and his body relaxed, as he described the rigid operation.  “During the next three weeks,” he began, “we’re going to train you for a top secret operation to assassinate King Abdullah Hamid.  Your cover will be to pose as a journalist working on a feature story for Minute Magazine.  Your article will focus on King Hamid and the country he rules.  We have prepared a list of questions for the interview, questions we want answers to.  Rehearse every question so you can be comfortable and professional during the interview.  And of course, we’ll be helping you polish your act.”

“While you are in Saudi Arabia, you are not to speak Arabic.  Don’t even let them know that you speak Arabic.  Instead, listen to every conversation and report all that you hear back to us.  King Hamid speaks fluent English, so there won’t be a language barrier.”

“After each interview with Hamid, you will return to your room to write your article.  It is extremely important that you play out your role of being a journalist so as not to arouse suspicion.  Westerners are watched with scrutinizing mistrust, and even though you won’t be aware of it, counterintelligence will monitor your every move.”

“When you arrive in Riyadh, you will be met at the airport by King Hamid’s press attaché, Ayub Ali Masudi.  He will escort you to the Intercontinental Hotel where you will be staying.  Once in your room, you will make one phone call to the Minute headquarters here in Washington.  An agent who operates within the magazine will intercept the phone call.  His name is Marcus Roy.”

“Marcus Roy?” she questioned.  “Isn’t he the editor-in-chief of Minute Magazine?”  Barry’s brow puckered as though Stephanie had no business asking.  He continued without answering.  Unbelievable!  The CIA controls the top magazine in the country.

“As I was saying, you are to give Marcus the number where you can be reached.  If your calls are being monitored, as we believe they will be, this will appear to be a normal flow of work.  Any questions so far?”

“Yes,” she said, convinced that she had the perfect reason for not going to Saudi Arabia.  “Suppose the Saudis check into my background?  My cover will be blown.”

“That’s already taken care of,” Barry said, blowing her excuse to pieces.  “We have computer access codes to every major corporation in this country and other countries as well.  Your statistics have been punched in, and your background is airtight.  To summarize your biography, your name is Mickey Chapman, you have been employed by Minute Magazine for two years, you’re single, and you have no living relatives.  We will provide all of the necessary documents to prove your identification.  Does that answer your question?”

Unfortunately, it did.

“This plan is impeccable,” Barry continued.  “But it’s only fair to warn you that if you accidentally clue someone about your fictitious cover, you’re off to Chop Square.  You must be extremely alert.  Concentrate only on your cover.  Marcus will be taking you on a tour of the Minute office building so that you can become familiar with your place of employment.  Lock into your memory everything you see and hear.  If the Saudis ask any questions about Minute, rely upon the picture in your mind and ad-lib the best you can.  Understood?”

Stephanie nodded.

“There’s only one blind spot in our plan.  Your primary goal is to lure King Hamid out of his country, and we don’t know if he’ll be attracted to you.  You’re an enchanting young woman, and if you play your cards right, you can bait a trap for him.  King Hamid will most likely assign his press attaché to guide you through his country’s points of interest, but try to win his favor so that he will escort you himself.  The more time you spend with him, the better your chances are of enticing him.  Play up to him with subtleness.  Seduce him with innocence.  We will go into greater detail about diplomatic manners and customs later, but for now, just be sure you approach the king with adoring respect.”

“Now, one day before your four days in Riyadh are over, you will receive a phone call from Marcus.  He will tell you that you have an emergency assignment in the Cayman Islands lasting for one month.  King Hamid has holdings in a luxurious hotel on Seven Mile Beach in George Town, and if he wants to be with you, he’ll follow you there.”

“I want to emphasize your goal of enticing Hamid out of his country.  Under no circumstances are you to engage in sex while you are in Saudi Arabia.  Since sex is the national pastime over there, you must use your ingenuity so that Hamid will not be satisfied until he joins you in George Town.”

“Wait a minute,” she boldly interrupted, her insides screaming with alarm.  “Who said anything about having to have sex with him?”

Barry was surprised by Stephanie’s question.

“Why else would he want to follow you to George Town?”

“To sunbathe, I hope.”

“Hardly,” Barry said with a raised brow.

Stephanie glanced at Kyle.  He was clenching his teeth to hide his grin.

Stephanie’s head began to pound.  I’m not sleeping with anyone.  I can’t!  I won’t!  She began rubbing the pain in her head.  “I’ve had enough.”  She jumped out of her chair and bolted toward the window.  She remembered back to the days when this would have been her dream assignment, back when she was fearless and convinced that she would live forever, back before she fell in love with Brian.  “I can’t do this,” she finally spoke.  “It’s bad enough that you expect me to lure King Hamid to George Town, but I won’t sleep with him.”

“You’re overwhelmed right now, Stephanie,” Barry sympathized.  “But we’re convinced that you can do this.  Try to understand that we’re losing this war.  Casualties are mounting.  This is the only way.”

Stephanie wondered why she had bothered.  This is just another job to him.

“It’s time for our meeting with the President.  In view of everything I told you,” Barry warned, “I hope you won’t give us any trouble.”

Stephanie didn’t answer.  As they walked to Barry’s limousine, she thought that in view of everything she had just heard, she was positively not going to Saudi Arabia.  Cause trouble?  Yes, indeed.

Inside of the White House were many grand hallways, lofty doorways, and stately rooms.  Stephanie was all turned around inside the mansion, but Barry and Kyle knew the route to the Oval Office and they blazed a path for her to follow.  The secretary acknowledged their arrival.  The President was waiting to see them.

The President greeted Barry and Kyle by their first names, and then Kyle reintroduced Stephanie.  “Mr. President, you remember meeting Stephanie at the Presidential Ball.”

“Of course I remember,” he cordially said, as he graciously reached out to take her hand.  “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

“It’s an honor to meet with you, Mr. President.  I’m very flattered that you remembered me.”

“I never forget a pretty face,” he said.

“Thank you, Mr. President.”  His informal, easygoing manner helped her to relax.

“Did Barry and Kyle inform you of all the details?”

“Yes, Mr. President, and I would like to talk to you in private if I may?”

“Certainly,” he agreed.  He nodded at Barry and Kyle to excuse them from the room.  Kyle prompted her with a stern glare to warn her to watch what she said.  She almost lost her composure.

“Why don’t we go and sit by the fireplace so we can chat more comfortably?”  The President gently put his arm around Stephanie and led her to a royal blue sofa.  For a moment, Stephanie felt the soothing touch of a father’s love.  She knew she could trust the President to help her, just as she had always counted on her own dad for help.

The President made himself comfortable in a chair beside an oval table of rich cherry.  He leaned forward to give her his full attention.  Stephanie noticed how familiar he looked, then suddenly his face appeared out of the shadows from her distant past.  I know him.  But how?  “I can’t help thinking that I knew you when I was a child.”

The President dismissed the idea with a guarded laugh.  “Now, that would be quite impossible.  I’m sure I only look familiar because you’ve seen my face on magazines – even TV.”

“That’s not it.  But I’m sure it will come back to me.  Probably when I least expect it.”  She felt foolish for mentioning it in the first place.  His face was so haunting, yet it had no bearing on the present.

“Now,” the President warmly began, “what did you want to talk about?”

“Mr. President, the thought of working undercover to assassinate King Hamid is unfathomable to me.  Kyle has involved me in this operation out of revenge over a personal matter.  He has been ruthless to me, showing no consideration for either my feelings or my privacy, and I want to wash my hands of this entire situation.”

“I can assure you, Stephanie, any personal matters between you and Kyle have nothing to do with this operation.  You have the qualifications that are needed to perform the job.  Didn’t Barry and Kyle explain the importance of eliminating King Hamid?  His death will end this war and save thousands of innocent lives.”