Dead Aim (32 page)

"And presidential?" Galen asked. "You're probably the most popular President we've ever had. Shepard had some work to do to make himself over into your image. Betworth not only stocked Z-3 with his own crew and planned to destroy the rest of the bunkers, but he used their destruction to set up Shepard."

"You say the bomb was supposed to have been smuggled into the White House, Logan." Andreas shook his head. "That's almost unbelievable. Everyone who enters is searched thoroughly."

"Except you, Mr. President." Logan turned to Keller. "And you wouldn't insult the Vice President either, would you?"

"It's possible he could do it," Keller said cautiously.

"And if he brought it in piece by piece and Betworth sent a man in to assemble it later . . ."

"It's also possible he could have been instrumental in the other two attempts on my life," Andreas murmured. "Talk about an inside man. But you were too good, Keller. You made sure that every aspect of my life was impossible to penetrate without detection. They must have gotten nervous about getting caught and decided to go a different route."

"You believe us?" Logan asked.

"Shepard would take over the presidency if I was killed," Andreas said. "The presidency is the ultimate power, and Betworth has wanted it for years. And I'd judge Shepard a man who can be controlled by someone as clever as Betworth. Shepard takes over the presidency, has Matanza to blame for the assassination, and initiates a crusade against terrorism that immediately sends his approval rate soaring. In the meantime, Betworth is behind him pulling all the strings, with a nice little pocket of puppets in the FBI and CIA already in place. Matanza gets the glory, Shepard gets the presidency, Betworth gets the power." He grimaced. "And I get dead. I can't say I regard that as an acceptable scenario."

"It's supposition, sir," Keller said.

"Then I suggest you get on the phone and call your Secret Service people in charge of protecting Shepard and see if there's been any increase in contact between Betworth and Shepard in the last six months. I want a tap on Betworth's and Shepard's phones immediately. And get a tech van out to Betworth's place on the double to monitor and record any calls."

"The bomb first," Logan said, and then added politely, "sir."

Arrogant bastard. He
did
like him. "Start a search, Keller. But discreetly. Very discreetly. We don't want the son of a bitch to get suspicious and set it off ahead of schedule." He turned to Logan. "Satisfactory?"

"Splendid. Caution is good."

"I'm glad you approve. But it's what I'd have done anyway. What you've told me may be bull, and I'm certainly not disturbing the people of the United States with as little proof as you've given me. They've gone through too much already during these last years." He shook his head wearily. "And if we have to arrest Betworth and Shepard for this crime, it will be one more horror for them. They don't need their trust in their own government shaken."

"They don't need a bomb going off in the White House either," Logan said dryly.

"Anything else, sir?" Keller asked.

"Hell, yes, make sure you tell your men in the field to get my wife and children to a secure place." He headed for the door. "Now."

She could hear him behind her.

Alex shinnied up the tree and crawled to a nook cloaked in pine branches. It was daylight now, and she needed all the cover she could get.

Pray that no bird or animal would fly out of the tree and give her position away.

Don't make a sound.

Don't even breathe.

He was right below her.

No, he had moved on down the hill.

She was afraid to let out a sigh of relief. Stay here for a little while until she was sure she'd lost him.

Fifteen minutes passed.

Twenty minutes.

Twenty-five.

She climbed down from the tree.

Runne smiled.

The woman had turned and was circling back toward the bluff.

Perhaps she was in a panic and trying to reach the road.

Or perhaps she was trying to meet with Morgan.

Where the hell was he?

The anger and frustration had been growing in him for the last hour. He didn't know if he could wait for Morgan to show after he caught the woman. She'd hurt his pride, and that couldn't be tolerated. She needed a lesson, and he would give it to her.

He would slit her from belly to throat.

She couldn't hear him, but she knew he was close.

Her heart was beating hard, painfully, as she ran.

No use trying to be quiet now.

Run.

Too tired . . .

Keep running.

Her hand tightened on the branch she'd picked up after she climbed down from that last tree. It wasn't much of a weapon, but she was getting too exhausted. Soon she'd have no choice but to face him.

Not yet. The path that led up the bluff was just ahead. Morgan might be--

Her legs went out from under her.

Tackled!

He was on top of her, his hands on her throat, her mouth.

"Shh."

She bit his hand and tried to swing the branch.

"Alex, dammit," he whispered.

Morgan.

She went limp.

"Are you okay?"

"No." The tears were streaming down her cheeks. "I'm tired and cold and scared and that son of a bitch wouldn't give up. You took your time getting here."

He touched her cheek gently. "No supersonic jets from Guatemala City. I'm sorry."

"You should be." She tried to sit up. "Get off me. We have to hide. I don't know how far he is behind me."

"I do. We have a little time." He got off her but stayed on his knees beside her, his hands running over her body. "Christ, you're wet."

"I went through a couple streams. I thought it would kill my scent. It worked. Or maybe he can't smell as well as you can." He was drawing her into his arms. "Don't do that. I must feel like an icicle. I'll get you wet. I'm okay."

"You're more than okay," he said unevenly. "And this is for me, not you."

She didn't move. He was warm and strong and she wanted to stay there forever. Her arms tightened around him for a moment before she pushed him away. "No, after what I've gone through tonight I'm not taking any chances. We're going to stay alive." She got unsteadily to her feet. "Let's get out of here."

"You're about to collapse. You go to the side trail and hide there. I'll lead Runne up the bluff trail."

"Why?"

"I need him there."

"Need?" Her gaze searched his face. "Why not here?"

"Not now. Go and hide in the shrubbery."

"The hell I will. I don't know why the hell you want him up there, but I'm the one who'll get him there. He wants to catch me so bad by now he's probably salivating." She took the branch and erased their signs on the ground. "You wait in the shrubbery and then follow him." She dropped the branch and moved up the trail. "But don't take as long this time. Okay?"

"Alex, dammit."

She didn't listen. It was too difficult just putting one foot in front of the other. Get to the top of the bluff. She could make it.

It took her another five minutes to reach the top of the bluff, and by that time she was numb-weary. She moved toward a huge jagged rock and leaned against it.

Come on, Runne.

Come and get me. Bait for the trap.

He was coming.

She felt every muscle in her body freeze when she saw him appear at the top of the trail.

He was smiling with fierce satisfaction. "You've led me on a chase, you bitch."

"Because you're not as good as Morgan. He would have caught me in the first fifteen minutes."

His smile disappeared. "Look at you." He walked toward her. "How pitiful you are. Like my whore of a mother. Just a weak woman after all."

"Screw you."

"Bold words. Do you think Morgan is coming to rescue you?" He shook his head. "You're all alone. I killed him."

She froze. "You're lying."

He shook his head. "I killed him." He was only six yards away, and suddenly there was a knife in his hand. "So there's no reason to keep you alive. I can't tell you how much I'm going to enjoy killing you."

9:45 A.M.

"For God's sake, everything's going to hell, Betworth." Shepard's voice was panic-stricken. "I just got a call from Andreas at Camp David telling me to stay where I am. There's been an anthrax packet found in the Rose Garden. They've called in the CDC to make a search of the White House. They'll find it, dammit."

"Keep calm." He wasn't calm. His mind was flying in a hundred different directions. A search for anthrax? It was too damn convenient. "Was there any note claiming responsibility?"

"Hamas."

"Hang up. I'm calling to check."

"You don't have to check. It's all over CNN. I'm watching it right now. Set off the damn bomb before they find it."

"Listen, keep cool. We can handle this."

"This is your fault. I knew it would get out of control."

"All you knew was that you were scared to death to take care of Andreas up close and personal. Well, I fixed it for you. I made you a big man and now you've got to hang tough. Let me talk to Danley." When Danley was put on the phone, Betworth asked, "What do you know about this?"

"I called Jurgens as soon as I heard about it. He says it seems to be a legitimate anthrax scare. The CDC preliminary report confirms anthrax."

"It's too pat."

"Then why would Andreas call Shepard? Oh, who the hell knows? Maybe--shit!"

"What's wrong?"

"CNN . . . There was a big-ass explosion. Shepard's office, I think. Fire. Smoke."

Betworth switched on the TV set. He could barely see the White House for the haze of smoke. "I'll be damned." He suddenly started to chuckle. "Stupid blunderers. They set it off themselves." EMTs and firemen in bulky protective suits were running toward the White House. "Danley, in a few minutes they'll confirm the bomb was radioactive. Call Camp David and make sure Keller's following procedure and sending Andreas to Z-3."

"It's still a go?"

"I'm not stopping now. We've got a chance to win the whole pot, and only cowards hesitate. Once Shepard's in power we'll be able to control any investigations. If there was a tip about the bomb, then they've cut their own throats by setting it off and destroying any evidence. If the anthrax was genuine, then Hamas and Matanza can fight over credit for killing Andreas. The confusion will only help us." He headed for the door. "I'm leaving now. If you can confirm that Andreas is boarding his helicopter and heading for Z-3, we'll proceed as planned. Notify Runne."

"The situation has escalated," Danley said on the phone. "Get in position, Runne."

"I'm in position. How long?"

"The President left Camp David five minutes ago. Fifteen minutes tops."

"I'll be ready."

Betworth's helicopter arrived five minutes later. Danley met him at the landing site and waved the helicopter off and away.

"He's on his way." Danley gestured to the bluff. "Runne's up there behind that rock. Here's the scenario. You and Shepard go forward to meet the President when the helicopter arrives. When Andreas goes down, you both hit the dirt. You wait for another shot--that will be mine taking out Runne. You get up and run to Andreas. Big grief scene for the benefit of the pilot and Keller."

"Fine. Except for one point. I want you to shoot me."

"What?"

"I'm going to crawl toward Andreas in a desperate attempt to save him. You shoot me. Everyone will assume it's Runne. A shoulder or arm wound. Nothing serious. Just enough to get me sympathy and a little glory. I may need it when I'm continually at Shepard's side after he takes office."

"Whatever you say."

"And you'd better aim straight, Danley." He moved toward the bunker entrance. "Now, I'll get Shepard out of that hole and see if I can put a little iron in him. You start climbing that bluff."

"Here he comes," Betworth murmured as he watched the helicopter fly through the pass. "Keller's flying the chopper. Don't smile, Shepard. Look concerned. We have a national emergency here."

"I am concerned," Shepard said between his teeth. "I don't like things not to go as they're supposed to."

"Want to bail out?" Betworth asked. "This is the time. Say the word. Who wants to be the most powerful man in the world? You can go back and hide in your cave for the rest of your term and then retire quietly to the country."

"I didn't say I wanted to bail out. I just want him dead and all the unpleasant details--" He stopped as the door of the helicopter opened and Andreas appeared in the doorway. "Come on. Let's get it over with." He strode toward the helicopter. "This way, Mr. President. We have to get you inside and safe."