Lady Liberty (44 page)

Finally he mattered.

A dozen men sat around the conference table. Sybil knew most of them, though there were some strangers in the group.

The president briefed them on where they were globally, which sounded grim. In short, if the missile launched and targeted any other country, then that country
and
its allies would retaliate. The best of the news was that a majority of the world leaders believed this crisis was a terrorist attack and empathized. After all, if the proverbial shoes were reversed, they’d be walking down this same path. Their bottom line was that they couldn’t put their own countries at risk. Since Sybil would follow the same line of thinking, she could hardly fault them for their positions.

“Commander Conlee?” David nodded for Conlee to report.

“Agent Westford suggested we check for time-delay implementation codes, and we found them programmed into the system the same day Austin Stone last accessed A-267. That was
two
months ago, not six. He also deleted evidence and the record of his access but, now knowing what to look for, our experts have recovered both. Agent Westford also recommended we check for bogus cycling on random targets. He was right about that, too. Regardless of what the loop tells us, the target is A-267. The missile will detonate in position. It will take out all of A-267, D.C., and most of the surrounding states. If we hadn’t discovered that
information, it also would have destroyed all evidence of Austin Stone’s involvement in this crisis.”

Crushed by betrayal that ran so deep she couldn’t tell where it began or ended, Sybil passed Commander Conlee the fax from Austin’s travel agent, Mary. “A copy of Austin’s ticket.” She looked at the president. “He booked a flight for Beijing tonight. Apparently he’s established an alliance with PUSH as well as Ballast.”

“I have to say” David commented, “I couldn’t see Faust strategizing a world war.”

“I believe his objective was limited to stopping the peace talks with Peris and Abdan, sir,” Sybil said. “So he could continue selling arms to both sides.”

Barber interceded. “Do we know whether Dr. Stone has shared his technology and designs with the Chinese?”

“We do not,” Conlee said. “Our engineers have to project the potential cause and effect of every action before taking any, Mr. President. We’ve got all qualified personnel on every facet of this situation, but we could run out of time before completing the investigation. It’s going to be close. If Dr. Stone believes he’s caught, he has no incentive to stop the launch. As it is, we have positioned him to where he can walk out a hero—short term—by finding a miracle solution to the crisis.”

David heaved a sigh. “He’s playing cat-and-mouse games with Faust to bring the U.S. to its knees.”

“And to humiliate me.” Sybil hesitated and then added, “As long as I didn’t return from the swamp, he was above suspicion. But in letting me live, Faust compromised Austin.”

“Faust
let
you live?” Barber asked. “You mean that figuratively right?”

“No. One of his men looked me in the eye and said he was letting me live because of a negotiation tactic I implemented with Peris and Abdan, but the next time we met, he’d kill me.”

“That proves Faust didn’t want a world war, either,” David said. “I’m sorry about Austin, Sybil.”

“Me, too.” She forced strength she didn’t feel into her voice.

A silver-haired man with laugh lines in his face and gnarled hands gained David’s attention. “May I say something, Mr. President?”

“Senator Jamison is filling in for Cap Marlowe,” David told the group. “Go ahead, Senator.”

“It’s about Captain Dean, sir. Now, I know it looks bad for him, since he was the second chuter and all, but his family being murdered gives one pause, and him aligning with that Ballast bunch doesn’t fit his psychological profile.”

Barber cleared his throat. “Intel reports they thought Linda had been on the island waiting for Ken Dean, sir, which is why they’ve suppressed information on him. He has been confirmed as the second chuter. That makes him a traitor.”

“He wasn’t, Richard.” Sybil refused to believe it. “Ken Dean was a good, honorable man. There’s no way he would have put his family in jeopardy, not willingly. I’ve thought about this a lot and I’ve spoken with Agent Westford about it. He’s known Ken Dean for fifteen years. We believe Captain Dean was acting as a rogue agent. He exceeded orders and put himself in the position of appearing to be a traitor, but he acted in our best interests.”

“A pilot acting as a rogue double agent?” Barber grunted. “That’s hardly credible, ma’am.”

“The captain broke protocol, Barber. He dropped altitude, depressurized the cabin, and warned Agent Westford to get me off the plane. He facilitated our safe exit before the explosion. That’s credible—and fact.”

“And his family?” David asked, his expression noncommittal.

“They were killed,” Winston said. “Maybe Faust abducted them to force Dean to do what Faust wanted done.”

“And once Dean was dead, there was no need to continue to hold them,” Barber said. “At least that part of this scenario sounds reasonable.”

It was reasonable; grim and grisly, but reasonable. “Look, I know I can’t prove all of this,” Sybil said. “I may never be able to prove Captain Dean’s innocence. But without his intercession, I am sure I would have died and Austin would have gotten away with treason and murder. Ken Dean did
not
commit treason, David. He was a hero.”

David lifted a VCR tape. “Your suppositions might not sound credible, but they are right. I received this copy of a tape from Grace about an hour ago by special messenger. She said Captain Dean gave her the original just before she was kicked off the flight. Captain Dean told Grace that if there was any trouble with the flight to put this tape in my hands.”

David set the tape down on the conference table. “Austin Stone and Faust had agreed to act long before they decided when to act, or on what specific situation they would act. Ken Dean put himself in the line of fire without authorization or orders to try to stop Faust. Our resources, as well as those of our allies, have repeatedly tried and failed to capture and convict him. Ken thought, working from the inside out, he could succeed.”

“Do we have supporting evidence backing up Dean’s tape?” Barber asked.

“Not yet,” Conlee answered.

David looked at Barber. “How is the DNA cross-check coming?”

“Slowly, sir. We’ve got everyone possible working on it.”

David nodded. They were about out of time and everyone knew it. In less than six hours, the missile would detonate and millions would die.

It was a small satisfaction that Austin Stone would die with them.

Winston asked about public disclosure, and David responded that there would be none. Principal parties had
considered a seventy-two-hour evacuation impossible. “This isn’t New Year’s Eve, Winston,” Sybil said. “The cruelest thing we can do is to tell people so they can spend every minute between now and then watching the clock and dreading midnight.”

“Keep working, folks.” David stood up, ending the meeting.

“I need a moment,” Sybil told him.

“Sure.” He led her to a private room just down the hallway, sat down, and motioned for Sybil to join him. “I really am sorry about Austin, Sybil.”

“Thank you. It goes without saying how sorry I am that he’s done this.”

“No need. He has nothing to do with you.”

“David, you know that’s not true. Which is why, if we live through this—” Oh, God, just thinking the words had her chest in a vise “—I’m going to resign.”

She had been afraid Austin would pull something underhanded, which is why she had refused to sell him the stock. But never in her wildest dreams did she believe he would jeopardize an entire country. Her ex was a murderer and a terrorist. If she didn’t resign, the public and the Senate would demand it. Only a coward would put David Lance in that position, and she couldn’t just follow her mantra—
Say what you mean, and mean what you say
— when it was easy or convenient. She had to live it all the time—including now.

“We’ll discuss it later, if we successfully resolve the crisis.” David dismissed her offer. “Peris and Abdan’s premiers are still in Geneva. I doubt anyone else could have managed to keep the warmongers there.” He wiggled a finger in her general direction. “They were both extremely upset by the news of your death, and they’re elated to hear you’re still alive.”

“They’re good men.”

“They’re ruthless men.”

“Being ruthless has its value, David.” She hiked her chin. “Sometimes it’s the only thing that keeps a nation’s people alive and safe.”

“That kind of insight is why you’re vital to my administration.” David slid toward the edge of his seat. “I know we’re in serious trouble, Sybil, and that Austin played a huge part in causing it. I can imagine how much knowing that upsets you, but the bottom line is Austin is responsible for Austin, not you.” He stood up. “I’m lifting your ban. Commander Conlee made the recommendation for your protection, but you don’t need it. I have complete faith in your integrity. Our hands are tied here until we get a match on the DNA, or until it occurs to Austin that he’s going to die with us. But I have an urgent project for you to handle.”

“Of course.”

“Phone Peris and Abdan. The timing can’t get any better. They’re both receptive and ready for peace. A call from you will get them moving.”

He wanted her to resume negotiations
now
? “All right.”

“I haven’t lost my mind,” he assured her. “Unless I miss my guess, very soon now we’re going to need excellent relations with Peris and/or Abdan.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re going to have to convince them that the Peacekeeper missile they believe is targeting them really isn’t. You’re the only person on the planet they might believe enough not to launch a preemptive strike.”

“But the missile
isn’t
targeting them.”

“You’re right. But humor me, and prepare them anyway.”

“Is there something going on I don’t know about?”

He shook his head. “Just a hunch.”

Sybil walked to the door, paused, and looked back at him, her heart in her eyes. “Thank you, David.” He’d know she meant about the resignation.

“My privilege.” He nodded to lend weight to his words, then motioned to her feet. “Why the sneakers?”

She grunted. “I’m not picking up Jonathan’s habits. My feet are swollen. These are the only shoes that fit.”

David slowly studied her face and the bruises. “Are you really all right?”

She had to be honest; he had that look, signaling he was getting one of his infamous hunches. “Physically, yes.”

He held her gaze, and empathy filled his eyes. “Ah, I get it now.”

“Get what?” What had he seen or imagined?

“I think you’ve picked a lousy time to realize you’re in love.”

Boy, had she. “Is there ever a good time?”

“Probably not,” he conceded. “It always knocks you on your ass.”

It did. Hard. “I need to modify my promise,” she said, her apology in her voice. “I don’t stand a prayer of a chance at keeping it, David. I tried denial, but it didn’t work. Nothing worked.”

“Didn’t for me, either,” he confessed. “Consider it modified.”

Agitated, she swept a hand across her forehead. “Can we save this conversation for later? I’m anxious enough right now.”

He swallowed a chuckle. “It’s love, not an execution squad, Sybil.”

“You have your frame of reference, and I have mine.” She cracked the door open, then paused again and squeezed the knob until her knuckles ached. “If we don’t find a way out of this, you evacuate no later than eleven.”

“We’re going to find a way out.”

“Eleven, David.”

Their gazes locked, and all her fears on what that evacuation meant reflected back at her in his eyes.

David stuffed his fists in his slacks’ pockets, and nodded. “Eleven.”

In an isolated A-267 office, Austin Stone backed away from the computer terminal. His chair squeaked, and he tilted his wrist to see his watch through the overhead light’s glare. The bastards thought they were clever, and they were, but he was brilliant and nobody’s fool.

He stood up and then paced the narrow room, desk to door, door to desk, again and again, silently cursing Commander Conlee, Lance, and Sybil.

Always Sybil. Interfering. Overpowering. Emasculating.

He curled his fingers into fists at his sides. But not this time. This time he was going to overpower her. This time she would fail
and
feel the loss. He still had time to make a flight—any flight, anywhere.

Sam Sayelle had failed him just as magnificently as all the others, but that, too, Austin could repair. He lifted the phone receiver and dialed.

“Ground Serve. How may I direct your call?”

“Clayton Rendel, please.” Austin stared at the computer screen. He’d bypassed the engineers’ filters and firewalls. They had meant to block his access to the system. Fortunately, he had also considered that they might try to do this, and he had programmed in a back-door access. They had discovered he was online with them relatively quickly and had locked him out. But in the interim, he had implemented the program that provided an escape. The launch could be aborted—if they found Cap Marlowe’s key.