The Assassin (29 page)

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Authors: Andrew Britton

Tags: #Terrorists, #Fiction, #Suspense, #Thrillers, #Espionage, #Suspense Fiction, #Intelligence Officers, #Political, #United States

BOOK: The Assassin
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“Maybe not,” Kealey countered. “You have a lot of friends at State and Justice. If enough of them landed on your side, the president might—”

“Don’t kid yourself, Ryan. If I go against the president, I’m done at the Agency. It’s that simple.”

A short silence ensued, and Kealey feared that he might have pushed it too far. The DDO was only forty-two years old, and retirement was a long ways off. They approached a bench on the left, partially illuminated beneath a white sodium lamp. Harper took a seat unexpectedly, emitting a weary sigh in the process. Kealey joined him.

“I want to go in, John. I want to do it tonight, but I need your help. You know it needs to be done. I saw it on your face while Brenneman was searching for ways to say no.”

“That’s true,” Harper replied. “It
does
need to be done. Rühmann might be able to give us Vanderveen, but it’s more than that. This meeting at the UN could be a coup for Brenneman, but that also makes it a prime target. They went after the prime minister first, and now Tabrizi. Tabrizi was a Sunni, but definitely a moderating factor. Nuri al-Maliki, on the other hand, was — and still is — the recognized leader of the United Iraqi Alliance, and the UIA counts for two-thirds of the National Assembly. If Vanderveen is going after that particular group, he’ll have the perfect opportunity in New York. It would totally destroy the Iraqi government, take away all credibility. The country would plunge into civil war.”

“With our troops caught in the middle,” Kealey muttered.

“Exactly.”

“This meeting on the sixteenth… Why did Brenneman keep it so close to the vest?”

“He’s afraid of leaks, I imagine. Like I said, this could be big for him. If the UIA throws its support behind him and his plan for bringing the troops home, it could have a dramatic effect on the polls. People are tired of the situation over there. They want rapid withdrawals, but that could easily destroy the little we’ve managed to accomplish over the past five years. Needless to say, Brenneman can’t make that kind of statement himself; it just doesn’t resonate. Hearing it from the leading members of Iraq’s National Assembly, on the other hand, might change some minds. After all, their support is the only way we can accomplish anything over there. It’s a risky play, and it’s late in the game, but it’s all he has if he wants another four years.”

Kealey looked down at the gravel, thinking about it. “If I’m going in, it has to be tonight. Once Brenneman makes that call to the German chancellor, we’re dead in the water.”

“It’s impossible, Ryan. Even with the access codes and the security layout, you’d need at least a week to set it up.”

“We don’t have a week.” Kealey paused, looking over the grass. The National Air and Space Museum could be seen in the near distance, the towering windows reflecting the night sky in shimmering shades of blue and black. “I’m not asking the president, John,” he continued quietly. “I’m asking
you
. I’ll be finished as well. I know that. They won’t give me a glowing send-off, either. I’m willing to pay the price, but I can’t make that decision for someone else, and I certainly can’t make it for you. If you want me to look for another way, that’s the way it’ll be.”

Harper nodded silently to himself, and his chin drifted down to his chest. Kealey briefly wondered if he was dozing off, but then his head rose. “I’ve known you for eight years, Ryan. I think you forget that sometimes.”

“What are you getting at?”

“I knew you’d ask for the chance, regardless of what Brenneman decided, so I pulled everything together in advance. I gave Naomi instructions before we left the White House.”

The younger man was not particularly surprised; Kharmai’s hasty departure had seemed a little unusual. “And?”

“She’ll bring the relevant material to your room at ten tonight. Take all the time you need with it, but be sure to give it back to her before you leave the hotel. If they catch you in the act, you can’t have anything on you.”

That much was obvious, but Kealey nodded anyway. Something lifted from his shoulders, and his vision seemed suddenly sharper: he was back in the hunt. “I understand. If—”

He fell silent as Harper grabbed his arm forcefully, something he’d never done before. “I hope you
do
understand, Ryan. If you’re caught, you’re on your own. I can’t lift a finger to help you. And Naomi is not to have a part in this. She’ll give you the file, but her involvement ends there. I don’t care how much she complains, you leave her out of it. I have a feeling that she’d do just about anything for you, but bear in mind that we’re talking about her career, okay? And make that clear to her as well.”

Harper released his arm and reached again for the Kleenex, erupting in a short series of hacking coughs. Kealey rose to his feet. “Ten PM?”

“Yeah, you’d better hurry.”

He took a few quick steps back down the path, then slowed, stopped, and turned. Harper was still sitting on the bench, shoulders hunched with fatigue. Watching him, Kealey felt a sudden rush of emotion. There was barely ten years between them, but Harper had been the closest thing to a mentor he’d ever had, and now the man was putting his career on the line for him. For Kealey, it had nothing to do with Thomas Rühmann or the upcoming meeting in New York. It was all about finding Vanderveen. In the end, that was all that mattered, at least in his mind. He suspected Harper knew this much and probably more.

But none of that needed to be said; they had known each other too long. Instead, Kealey simply turned and walked away.

 

CHAPTER 27
WASHINGTON, D.C.

 

Kealey had been back in his room at the Hotel Washington for less than ten minutes when the knock came at the door. He’d had just enough time to shower and change into a pair of dark gray utility pants, running shoes, and a North Face zip-neck fleece. Crossing the room, he pulled open the door and Kharmai stepped inside immediately.

She brushed past him and stopped, staring around as if picking out the differences between their respective rooms. Then she walked past the bed, tossed a folder onto the small table, and turned to face him. “I guess Harper told you—”

“Yeah, he did.”

“Quite a risk on his part, I would have thought.”

She was eyeing him steadily, but he turned away and picked up the phone. “I was going to order up some coffee. You want anything?”

“Tea would be great.”

He nodded and dialed room service. After the order was placed, he walked over and joined her at the small wooden table, pushing aside the hotel stationery and a complimentary guide to the city. Naomi began describing the embassy’s external security measures as soon as he eased into the seat, but something was wrong, and he picked up on it right away. She was talking too fast, as if trying to ward off an impending argument, and she refused to meet his gaze. Finally, she stopped and looked up to catch him staring at her.

“What?” she asked.

“Why are you dressed like that?”

She looked down at her clothes. It wasn’t the outfit itself that had caught his attention; there was nothing conspicuous about her loose-fitting hoodie, tracksuit bottoms, and sneakers. But the fact that she was dressed entirely in black, given the situation, could only mean one thing.

She took a deep breath, lifted her chin, and looked him square in the eye. “I’m coming with you.”

“No,” he replied instantly. “You’re not. There’s no way I’m going to—”

“Ryan, just think about this for a second, okay?” The words came out in a torrent, as if by talking faster, she could overwhelm him with the force of her argument. She leaned forward and slapped a hand on top of the bulky file, which was still closed. “Even if we hold off as long as possible, we only have a few hours to go over this. There’s just too much to learn, and you have to remember it all under pressure. I’m not talking about going into the building with you, but you need someone to walk you through. Otherwise, it just won’t work… One mistake will alert security, and we can’t allow that to happen. Remember, I have just as much invested in this as you do.”

She didn’t realize what she’d said until Ryan looked away, pain flickering over his face. Remembering just how much he had lost to the man they were now chasing, Kharmai winced and opened her mouth to apologize, but he went on before she could get the words out.

“Naomi, even if we get what we need on Rühmann, I’m going to lose my job over this. Do you understand that? It only has to happen to one of us, and it won’t be you. There is no way you’re coming along.”

“Well, you’re going to have a hard time getting into the embassy computers without the administrator password,” she said, leaning back and adopting her best poker face. “I seem to have misplaced it.”

“That’s unfortunate.”

“Yep.” She gave him a meaningful look. “Makes your job a lot harder, anyway. On the other hand, I might be able to track it down with a little effort.”

He shook his head, but he had to smile. “That’s bullshit, Naomi. I know you better than that. There’s no way you would let me go in there without the right information.”

She tried to keep her face blank, but it couldn’t last, and she finally looked away in defeat. “Ryan, I just want to help,” she said softly. “If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t even have gotten this far. Believe me, I know what I’m doing. I also know the odds, and there is no way you can pull this off alone.”

A shadow crossed his face, and she went on before he could object. “Think about what you’re risking, will you? This is our only link to Rühmann, and that makes it our only link to Vanderveen. Knowing that, are you still willing to take the chance? Any chance at all?”

He hesitated, and she felt a weight lift; she had finally gotten through to him.

“What are you suggesting?”

She tapped the folder again. “When I went to pick this up at Langley, I stopped by to visit an old friend in the DST. He gave me the use of some radios. They’re not encrypted, unfortunately, but they
are
pretty powerful. I’ll wait in the car with the layout and walk you through. That way you can focus on what you’re doing in there. Security’s light, especially on the grounds, and the building itself will be all but empty.”

“Isn’t that normal, given the time of day?”

“Yes, but tonight the ambassador is holding a reception at the residence, so most of the staff will be tied up with that. It’s perfect for us.”

Kealey nodded absently. He wasn’t pleased that Naomi had talked him into giving her a more active role, but he couldn’t fault her logic. It occurred to him that she had changed his mind with amazing speed, and he couldn’t help but wonder about the way she had brought Vanderveen into the equation.
I have just as much invested in this as you
. Had she dredged up the past intentionally? If so, she was a promising actress, judging by the embarrassment that had crossed her face once the words were out. She was difficult to read, but he had always thought as much; she appeared to wear her emotions on her sleeve, but knowing how intelligent she actually was, Kealey could never be sure how much was real and how much was feigned. Methods aside, she seemed happy enough to have gotten her way; her eyes were bright as she opened the folder and began leafing through the pages with obvious enthusiasm.

Kealey knew how much those pages meant; everything hinged on the accuracy of the file’s contents. If the source recruited through ORACLE had given them good information, their chances were vastly improved, but Harper was right; under normal circumstances, an operation such as this, with the potential for enormous fallout if they were caught in the act, would be planned out weeks in advance and rehearsed extensively. This worrisome fact plucked at his confidence, but he’d made the decision, and he wasn’t about to back out now.

Room service arrived a moment later, and Kealey got up to collect the tray. When they were settled back in, Naomi said, “So, where should we start?”

He turned some of the documents so he could see them better, then selected a stack of paper. “Entry points. I have to get in fast and out of sight. If I can’t do that, nothing else will matter.”

“That makes sense. When are we going in?”

He looked at her sharply. “
I’m
going in at four AM. That gives us five hours, allowing for time to test the radios.”

“Right.” When their eyes met, she offered a neutral smile instead of a broad grin. She had already gotten her way, and she knew rubbing it in wouldn’t help. “Well, there’s a lot of ground to cover, so let’s get started.”

 

 

The Hotel Victoria, located just off the Quai du Commerce, was a charmless, two-story structure of grey stone situated in the heart of Calais. The fourteen-room hotel was marked only by two small, flickering signs in bright blue and orange; otherwise, it could have been any other building on the block, and no better for it.

It was this very anonymity that had pulled Vanderveen in when they arrived in town late that evening, nearly four hours after Tabrizi’s death in Paris. They were met at the door by a bleary-eyed woman in her late fifties, who managed to greet them graciously, despite the late hour. They presented their passports and signed the registry as she searched for a free room. Handing over the keys, she smiled again and sent them up to the second floor.

The accommodations were adequate at best; the carpet was frayed, the furnishings scratched from years of use and lack of polish. The tile in the bathroom was cracked and stained, the wallpaper above the sink speckled with some unknown substance. The smell of antiseptic was overpowering. None of it mattered to Vanderveen; he had spent months, even years on end in places far worse. After pulling the curtains closed, he went into the bathroom and stripped down, then showered quickly. When he emerged ten minutes later, the room was dark, but he could see Raseen’s still form on the bed. She was still fully clothed, curled into a tight ball on top of the covers, her right side rising and falling with each shallow breath. He studied her for a minute, dispassionately picking out what was visible in the low light: the line of her square jaw, the gentle curve of her right shoulder, and the slope of her slender neck, which led up to a tangled nest of black-brown hair.

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