Dead Aim (25 page)

"Political zeal. Terrorism?"

"Oh, yes. He'd developed into a great killing machine. He was excellent with explosives and magnificent with a rifle. He'd successfully taken down four targets by the time he was sixteen. But he preferred knife work for close quarters."

"How did you learn all this about him?"

"I couldn't get to his father. He was too well protected. So I had to find a way under his guard. I went to Tokyo to the university where Runne was studying and enrolled in the same art course he was taking."

"Art?"

He shrugged. "He had a passion for it. His father had one of the finest art collections in the East, and I suppose he wanted to imitate his father in all things. The kid was a lousy painter, but he thought he was wonderful. And that's what I told him. It's amazing how quickly a bond can form when it's based on ego."

"And he was impressed by your work too."

"I didn't say it was all his ego." He shrugged. "He was young and eager and he reminded me of myself when I first went into the service. Hell, I . . . liked him."

"But you used him."

He nodded. "I found out that Runne was going back to North Korea to visit his father. They were going hunting and Runne was very excited. His father sometimes arranged very special hunts at his place in the country."

"Special?"

"Political prisoners. No one important. No one who would be missed."

Alex felt sick. "Charming."

"I found out exactly where and when they'd meet. I was there before them and I took my shot. I never saw Runne again."

"My God."

"It was my job." His voice was harsh. "I had to find a way to get to the target."

"But you didn't kill Runne."

"He wasn't my job."

Alex shook her head. "I don't think that's the reason."

"You believe I felt guilty about betraying Runne?"

"Maybe on some level. What do you think?"

"I think it was much more selfish. Like I said, I saw myself in him. If I'd taken him out it would have seemed like suicide."

"You're nothing like him."

"How do you know? You say I won't let you near."

"I'm getting there. It's just tough going. Is Runne the man you said loved to kill?"

"Yes. I went hunting with him a couple times, but not for his preferred prey."

She sipped her coffee. "And how did Runne find out it was you who killed his father?"

"My guess is that Betworth had the CIA pick him up and tell him after I slipped out of the trap they were setting. Al Leary probably brought him here, furnished him with papers and a mission. He'd be the perfect tool. He had all the skills and a hatred and obsessive desire to kill the target."

"And now Betworth has him working for him."

"But Runne doesn't like to be under anyone's thumb. He's an arrogant bastard." He smiled. "He almost caught me a couple times. But I've developed an instinct where he's concerned. I can
feel
him."

She shivered. "That's not something to bank on."

"Sometimes it's the only thing to bank on." He tapped the sketch. "Remember him. He won't stop. He won't hesitate. He won't let anything stand in his way."

"Like you?"

"Like me," he said quietly. "Now you're getting the picture."

"Well, you're not. I don't know what twisted bond holds you two together, but I don't think it's anything you've told me. Maybe on some subliminal level you want to save the son of a bitch."

"I'm no missionary, Alex."

"And you're not Runne. You're not the kid you were when you joined the service to see the world. You're not the man who shot Ki Ho Shin. You've changed, evolved."

He smiled mockingly. "You seem damn sure."

"I'm sure." She walked to him and put her head on his chest. She whispered, "I have to be."

He went still. "Don't do this to me."

She rubbed against him. "You started it. Live every minute. . . ."

"I've changed my mind."

"Too late."

His hands closed on her shoulders. "Listen to me. I'm not up to this."

"I'm trying to remedy that."

"Dammit, Alex, I want you safe." His voice was harsh. "I'm not safe. I've never been safe. Not for myself, not for anyone."

"Everyone makes their own safety." She kissed his chin. "Screw safety. All I want from you is a little companionship and a damn good lay. I'll take care of the rest."

"That isn't all you want from me. You want something I'll never be. You want a hero. That's who you've been searching for since your father died. That's why I keep trying to-- Oh, hell." His arms closed around her. "It's a mistake. I'll hurt you."

She drew his head down. "Not if you stay alive . . ."

"Why?" Morgan stared into the darkness. "It's a big mistake, Alex."

"You didn't think so when you first convinced me that going to bed with you was the most sensible thing I could do."

"For God's sake, I'm a guy. You shouldn't have listened to me."

"I would have missed a heck of a lot of fun." She rubbed her cheek in the hollow of his shoulder. "And I wouldn't have listened to you if I hadn't been almost there anyway."

"It's not permanent. This is just--"

"Wonderful. And stop giving me warnings. I'll settle for temporary for the time being." She raised herself on one elbow to look down at him. "Hey, we're terrific together. Why don't you relax and enjoy?"

"Because you're not--you'll get hurt. I've taken care of you and seen how vulnerable you can be. I can't stand it if--"

"You're getting boring." She moved on top of him. "And I'm getting tired of being aggressive. It's not my nature."

For a moment he continued to frown up at her, and then a slow smile touched his lips. "The hell it's not." He rolled her over. "Boring? What a challenge. I'll show you boring. . . ."

Galen called the next morning. "Lontana is in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean somewhere."

"Dead?"

"No, on his big-ass schooner,
Last Home
. My guy, Coleman, says he came straight down to Nassau from Fairfax a few months ago and weighed anchor the same day. He was in a hell of a hurry and no one's seen him since."

"No radio?"

"Yes, but he's not using it. I'd say he's on the run. You can't blame him for taking off for the high seas."

"What about crew?"

"Usually has three men, but there's no word on them either. They've been with him for years, and it's not likely they'd rat on him."

"Doesn't he have any friends or associates? Isn't anyone talking?"

"We're not the first who have been down there beating the bushes trying to find him. But I guarantee we're the least abusive. A couple of Lontana's friends got roughed up, and they're not trusting anyone." He paused. "But Coleman has one lead. Lontana has a foster child, a daughter, Melis Nemid. They usually work together, but Coleman heard she'd returned to their island in the Lesser Antilles."

"Then Lontana might be with her?"

"Possible. Or she might know something."

"If she did, then Betworth would have killed her. Whatever Coleman found out, Betworth's men would have found out."

"It may not have been so easy. They live on a private island Lontana purchased with his prize money from salvaging that Spanish galleon. There are difficulties reaching there. It's surrounded by rocks except for one inlet, and that's barricaded by nets."

"What?"

"His daughter studies and trains dolphins. She needs the nets to keep predators out of the waters."

"Human as well as our fishy friends. Lontana shouldn't have gotten mixed up in dirty tricks if he didn't want to deal with predators." Morgan paused. "Does she have a telephone?"

"Yes, a satellite phone, but you'll get her voice mail."

"Give me the number." He jotted the number down on a pad. "I'll call and see if I can leave a message that will get her to call me back."

"Good luck. In the meantime, I'll tell Coleman to keep on it."

"Get who to call you back?" Alex asked as Morgan hung up.

"Lontana's foster daughter, Melis Nemid. She's on some island in the Antilles studying dolphins."

"And her father may be with her?"

He shrugged. "Who knows? If she saw him before he took off on his ship when he came back from Fairfax, he may be with her. Or she might know something we need to know."

"Let me call her."

"Why?"

"I'm less intimidating."

He smiled. "Only to people who don't know you."

"Let me try."

"Shucks, and I thought I was going to get something to do around here." He handed her the phone and the telephone number. "Be my guest. Galen said you're going to get her voice mail. What are you going to say?"

"The truth. What happened at Arapahoe Junction. What we're afraid is going to happen next. What else can I say? If she cares, she'll call back. If she doesn't, there isn't much we can do."

"Except storm the island and kidnap her dolphins."

"You seem to thrive on kidnapping." She dialed the number. "I think we'll skip that option."

Alex received a call back from Melis Nemid four hours later.

Morgan handed her the phone. "It seems she cares--I hope."

"Alex Graham," she said into the phone.

"Phil isn't to blame," Melis Nemid said. "He didn't know what they were going to do. He didn't know anything about it."

"Phil?"

"Philip Lontana. He didn't know. No one can blame him for-- Of course they can blame him. No one is going to believe him. They're going to try to crucify him."

"Is he there with you?"

"Do you think I'd tell you if he was? How do I know you're not some con artist that Betworth hired?"

"If you've watched the news, then you must know that I'm on the run."

"I don't watch the news. And you could have made a deal."

"That's true. But I didn't, and if you don't help, then you'll be responsible for anything else that happens."

"Don't try to give me a guilt trip. All I want is to be left alone."

"So did all those people at Arapahoe Junction."

"It wasn't his fault."

Alex wasn't getting anywhere. Try to find a hole in the armor. "I can understand how you'd want to be left alone. You're a scientist, aren't you? You study dolphins?"

"Yes."

"I have a friend, Sarah, who has a search-and-rescue dog. Monty's wonderful. Sometimes I think I like him better than I do most people. Maybe you feel like that too."

"Is that supposed to soften me up?" She was silent a moment. "If you want to talk to me any more, it won't be on the telephone. Come to the island."

"It's difficult for us to travel, as you can imagine. It may be impossible."

"Then forget it. It's difficult for me too. I don't care about your problems. I care about Phil. And I need to see your face."

"How the heck do you expect us to get there? We can't move about freely."

"Come to the island." She hung up.

"She wants us to come to her," Alex told Morgan. "And I think it might be worth the trip. She wouldn't say whether Lontana was there, but she was very defensive. Can we manage to get to her without getting caught?"

"It's risky."

"I know it's risky. Do you think I'm an idiot? Can we do it?"

He thought about it. "With Galen and Logan pulling out all the stops, we have a good chance they can smuggle us down there. But we'd still be a hell of a lot safer right here."

"And we'll be safe right up to the time when they blow up another dam and kill more people. Get us there. If she knows anything at all that can help, then it's worth going." She moistened her lips. "Do you remember what you told me about having a feeling when Runne was near? Well, that's the way I feel about Z-2 or Z-3 or whatever: It's going to happen. And it's going to happen soon."

"You're preaching to the converted. I was just giving you the possible consequences." He added, "And wondering if maybe I shouldn't go down there alone. You could go to Galen and Elena and--"

"No."

He sighed. "That's what I thought. I'll call Galen."

.

The White House

"You're not eating." Andreas smiled at Chelsea across the candlelit table. "Fred's going to be upset and blame me. He always thinks it's my fault if you don't have an appetite."

"That doesn't surprise me. Why shouldn't that be your fault too?"

He slowly put down his fork and leaned back in the chair. "Would you like to explain that remark?"

"Not particularly." She took a sip of her wine. "I have to have my own secrets. Why should we share confidences? After all, we've only been married a decade or so."

She was glittering, barbed, and he'd better be very careful. "Would you like me to tell you exactly how long we've been married? I know it down to the minute." He stared her directly in the eye. "Because every minute has been a treasure."

She finally tore her gaze away. "Damn you. Why do you have to be so goddamn sincere? It's not fair."

"You're angry with me. May I ask why?"

"I didn't think it would be like this when you ran for the presidency. I knew it would be tough and I was willing to go for the long haul. But I didn't know everyone in the country would believe you were some kind of god." She waved a hand. "Andreas points his finger and lightning flashes. He touches a child and hunger vanishes."

"What are you saying?"

"What do you think?" Her eyes shone with unshed tears. "I'm scared to death. Since September eleventh you mean too much to too many people. That's why Matanza is so determined to kill you. They can strike a blow at the entire country by murdering you."

"Cordoba's only threatened, Chelsea. I've been threatened before."

"But he's getting closer. If he wasn't getting closer, then you wouldn't have sicced Nancy Shepard on me."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Don't you dare be evasive. You know very well that you told her to ask me to kick off the National Foundation for Abused Children's fund-raiser in Pittsburgh. Did you think I wouldn't guess?"

"No, but I hoped you'd pretend you didn't."

"Why?"

"Because it would have made it easier for both of us."

"I'm not going anywhere. I told her to get someone else."

He shook his head. "You're going to Pittsburgh."

"I'm not leaving you."

"You'll go." He smiled. "Because if you don't, I'll tell Nancy Shepard that I'll kick off the drive. I'll travel to every large city in the Northeast. I'll speak at convention centers and whistle stops. I'll shake hands and go to--"

"No!"

"Make your choice. You or me."

"You're safe here."

"Nowhere is perfectly safe, Chelsea."

"Okay, I know that. Why do you think I didn't argue when you sent the children away? But you're much safer here. Keller can control the security as long as you don't leave your ordinary stamping grounds."

"You or me."

"Damn you." She drew a long shaky breath. "Me."

"You'll do a wonderful job, my love."

"Yes, I will." Her voice was uneven. "And don't you dare let them kill you and make you a martyr while I'm gone. You know I look ghastly in black."

Chapter 12.

The huge net was stretched from shore to shore across the entire opening of the inlet and four feet above the surface of the water.

"So what do we do now?" Alex murmured. "Cut the net?"

Morgan shook his head. "We wait." He cut the motor of the speedboat. "You called and left a message we were coming. It's her move."

"We may be out here awhile." Her gaze fastened on the small stone-and-wood house hugging the shore. Christ, this was a beautiful place. Jewel-blue water, green mountains, and tropical breezes swaying the trees. It was like something from a travel brochure. "I don't see any sign of stirring. Maybe we should try shouting or making-- There's someone."

A woman had appeared from around the back of the house and was heading for the pier. Or Alex guessed she was a woman. She wore khaki shorts and a T-shirt, and her feet were bare. She was small and delicately built, with the shining fair hair usually seen in small children. But there was nothing fragile or childlike about the way she jumped into the motorboat at the pier and took off. She breathed competence, forcefulness, and vitality as she gunned the boat toward them.

She stopped fifteen yards on the other side of the net and studied them.

She was stunning, Alex realized, and no child. She was probably in her mid-twenties. Huge dark eyes and features that combined delicacy and boldness to form an extraordinary face. The boldness was definitely on the ascent in the cool glance she was giving Alex. "Alex Graham?"

Alex nodded.

"You don't look like the picture they have of you on CNN."

"God, I hope not. You're Melis Nemid?"

The woman nodded.

"Then how do you know what I look like on CNN? I thought you told me you never watched the news."

"I don't. But I had to make sure you were who you said you were."

"Are you satisfied?"

"That you're Alex Graham and that you're up to your ass in trouble? Yes." Her gaze narrowed on Morgan. "But you may be in bad company."

Alex shook her head. "I'd be in a hell of a lot more trouble if he hadn't been around. You can trust him."

"Ah, trust at last," Morgan murmured.

"I don't trust either of you." Melis Nemid was silent a moment and then shrugged. "But I don't have much choice." She started the boat and came slowly toward the net, skimming beside it until she reached a spot a few yards from where Alex and Morgan waited. She bent over the side of the boat, and a moment later a ten-foot-wide section of wire net fell to the surface. "Start your motor and then cut it when you reach the net and coast over," she called.

Morgan obeyed, and the moment they were on the other side of the net Melis Nemid rehooked it and drew the rope that lifted it to its former height. Then she was turning the boat and speeding back toward the shore.

"I guess that means we follow?" Morgan started the motor. "Must be. What a warm welcome. You'd think we'd come without an invitation."

Melis Nemid had already tied up her boat and was striding toward the house when Alex and Morgan reached the pier. She glanced over her shoulder. "Come on. I can't be all day. I have things to do."

"Sorry." Morgan helped Alex out of the boat. "We won't be hurt if you start without us."

She stared coldly at them. "This isn't funny. None of it."

"We know that better than you." Alex stared her in the eye. "And we're not going to be put off or intimidated by rudeness or bad temper. We came for a reason, and you want to supply us with that information or you wouldn't have let us come. Now, can we get on with it, Ms. Nemid?"

She blinked, and then a slight smile touched her lips. "Maybe I do trust you . . . a little. At least you don't bullshit. Call me Melis." She turned and threw open the front door. "Come in and have an iced tea."

"We'd rather have conversation," Morgan said as they followed her into the house. "And Philip Lontana."

"Then you'll be disappointed. I never told you he was here." She went toward the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. "So take the iced tea. It's a long, hot trip back to Tobago."

"Thank you," Alex said. She wasn't about to turn down any peace offering, no matter how small. "If he's not here, where is he?"

"Somewhere in the Azores, I think." She poured the tea and set the glasses down on the bar in front of Morgan and Alex. "Or maybe the Canary Islands. At any rate, you can't get in touch with him. Forget it."

"We can't forget it," Morgan said. "He may know something we need to know."

"You can't see him," she repeated. "You talk to me. I told him to get lost and stay lost. Phil doesn't usually pay a lot of attention to me, but he will this time. He got scared at Fairfax."

"Why?"

"Why do you think? He was in over his head. He thought he was going to save the world, and he found out that he'd been lied to. It's a wonder he got out alive. Phil's always been transparent as glass."

"He found out about Arapahoe Junction?"

"No." Her tone was sharp. "Neither of us knew that the thermal-sonic apparatus had even been used there. Not until you left the message on the phone. Phil only came to suspect his device might be developed for weaponry instead of geothermal energy."

"The scientists said there were seismograph readings that indicated an earthquake at Arapahoe Dam. Could those have been caused by Lontana's apparatus?"

She nodded. "Theoretically." She shook her head. "No, that's a word Phil uses when he doesn't want to face the truth. Hell, yes, it could have caused an earthquake. One that would be severe enough to impact the dam. I can't tell you how many times Phil told me how careful he had to be about developing probe techniques that would strike a balance."

"Evidently he wasn't that careful at Fairfax."

"For a long time he was so absorbed in the research that he didn't pay much attention to what was going on around him. After working there for a while, he gradually began to distrust Betworth and Powers and the other people who were in and out of the facility. So one night about three months ago he took his notes, destroyed the prototypes he'd developed at Fairfax, and took off."

"I'm surprised they let him."

"He was smarter than they thought. Phil's a little eccentric, and that fools a lot of people. They considered him the typical absentminded professor. Brilliant, but no common sense. In a way they were right. Phil's always lost in his own world."

"But I'd bet you aren't. Why didn't you stop him from going to Betworth?"

"It's his life. I don't interfere with--" She shrugged. "He didn't tell me. He knew I wouldn't approve, so he took off without saying anything. It wasn't that unusual. Phil was always going off on exploration trips without me. Then he'd show up excited or depressed and stay with me until the next time, the next adventure. I didn't even know where he was until he called me and told me he'd meet me in Nassau and to ready the
Last Home
."

"Then why are you here?"

"I didn't leave him in the lurch," she said defensively. "I'd never do that to Phil. I got him on the ship and out of port, but I had sickness here. I had to come home."

"We need to see him."

"No, he's out of it. I told him to stay away until I let him know it was safe. He can remain out to sea for years if he has to." Her lips tightened. "And he may have to do that. Thanks to those bastards. If they don't kill him, they'll frame him, won't they?"

"Probably," Morgan said. "But I'd bet on the former."

She shook her head. "I won't let that happen. Why do you think you're here? I can't trust the government. Betworth has too much influence. I can't really trust you either, but you're in hot water and you're going to be moving fast and trying your best to take Betworth down. Right?"

"Yes."

"I won't let you near Phil, but you can have me. I had Phil tell me everything that happened at Fairfax in case something happened to him. What do you need to know?"

"What are Z-2 and Z-3?"

She stared at him blankly.

"Okay, let's try another tack. While the experiments were going on, did they concentrate on any particular vent areas?"

"The Rocky Mountains. The coal-mining country in West Virginia. The offshore hydro vents near Baltimore."

"Offshore?"

She nodded. "Those really interested Phil. He's always more intrigued by anything underwater."

"The Rocky Mountains," Alex repeated. "Arapahoe Junction . . ."