The 13: Fall (44 page)

He stood up and started pacing back and forth. “And then President Grant, a man who is faithful to You—” He jabbed a finger into the air. “I mean, he was going to stand up in front of the country and tell everyone what
You
supposedly want. And You let him get shot in the head! Is this what You want?”

A soft knock came at his door. He opened it to find an MP standing there.

“Everything okay in here, sir?”

“I’m fine.” He closed the door again and walked back over to the bed and sat down. His head was pounding, and that shower had drained him of every last bit of adrenaline that had been keeping him up.

“Listen,” he said, looking up again. “I don’t know what You want from me. Boz says You have a purpose for all of this. I sure wish I knew what it was. ‘Cause right now, this is about the most screwed-up thing I’ve ever heard of. I mean, look at this! One moment I’m trying to find this guy to find out what You’ve told him. The next thing I know, I’m in command of our entire military forces—which by the way, really? Suddenly I’m the most qualified guy to do this?—trying to save a country that, quite honestly, I don’t think stands a chance. So if You’ve got something to say to me, then why don’t You speak to me? Huh? Why don’t You just tell me what You want!”

The room fell silent. He looked down at his watch and saw that twenty of his ninety minutes had already passed. The Bible was still sitting there. He blew out a long sigh and picked it up. “Boz said You speak to us through this. Since You won’t talk, maybe You’ll say something to me in here, huh?” He started thumbing through the pages. That pastor from Texas said to start in the Gospel of John. He didn’t even know where that was, so he just continued to turn pages until he saw a heading that caught his eye. “A Letter to the Exiles”, in the book of Jeremiah. He recalled that Jeremiah was one of those people the Prophet quoted in his video to President Grant. He lay back on the bed and began to read. And he didn’t know why, but he felt his breath catch and his pulse quicken as he got to verse eleven:
“For I know the plans I have for you, declares the L
ORD
, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.”

He stopped and reread it. And then he reread it again. And he didn’t know if it was because he was so tired or because he just wanted to believe it, but a sense of calm and peace began to come over him. He had barely finished verse fifteen when his eyes fell shut and he drifted off to sleep.

   CHAPTER 70   

T
aylor threw the phone on the seat beside her and put the Mercedes in gear when Marianne got into the cab. She pulled out of the parking spot and followed a couple car lengths behind as the cab turned onto Al Jazira Street and then onto Salahuddin Road. From there the car turned onto the main road, E11, and headed south.

Going this direction, Taylor had a pretty good idea where they were headed. Many of the luxury hotels and long-term rental apartments were located in a section of the city known as Palm Jumeirah, a set of man-made islands that, from the air, looked like a giant palm tree. The daring project had made international news while under construction and added more than three hundred miles to the Dubai shoreline. The fact that they were headed in that direction now didn’t surprise her, but it did give her a little pause. This was one of the most highly trafficked areas of the city. How she was going to get to Marianne and not make a big scene was going to be tough. Once she saw where the woman was staying she could maybe make her move at night, but that would have to be determined by where Marianne was staying and what the nightlife was in the area.

A little less than fifteen minutes later, the cab exited the highway. Megan continued to follow at a safe distance. Finally she pulled over and watched the cab enter the Ottoman Palace Resort. She watched as Marianne got out and went through the entrance. Quickly Megan pulled up and jumped out. She threw her keys to a valet and told him she’d be right back. She had no idea if the young man even spoke English and could understand her. But she wasn’t waiting around to find out.

It took her a few seconds to spot Marianne once she got inside. She was walking through a garden area into a courtyard that led to the luxury apartment villas. Taylor stayed with Marianne as she made her way through the walkways and palm trees, hanging back far enough to remain unnoticed. Finally Marianne slowed down and reached inside her pocket.

Now she knew where Marianne was. Getting to her wasn’t the problem. She could go right now and knock on the door. The problem was going to be getting Marianne out of there unnoticed. And Taylor had no idea if Marianne had anyone else in the place with her. She sat and watched for a few moments before deciding. She would come back tonight and take Marianne then.

She watched Marianne’s place for another few minutes before turning around and leaving the same way she came, hoping her Mercedes would still be waiting for her.

Alex Sokolov sat on a lounge chair, across a courtyard from Marianne’s villa. She had seen the FBI agent at the bank and decided to just watch. Once Marianne had gone inside, she decided to leave and come here.

When Chin had called her a few days earlier she had already decided she was done. She had enough money to retire. What was left to do but hang it up and enjoy life? And then Chin called.

While she admitted there was no greater feat in her profession than what she had done in Washington, she hated loose ends. And Marianne was one. Chin didn’t necessarily care about the loose ends. What could Marianne do to him? He and his government had already orchestrated war against the United States. There was nothing Marianne could say or do to make that any worse. But just like any good capitalist, Chin wanted the money. He never said whether or not his government wanted the money, just that he wanted it. She figured it was the latter, given the terms of their agreement. Chin was giving her a cool fifty million. And even though he promised to bring the entire force of the People’s Liberation Army down on her if she took a penny more, she doubted he would. That would mean he’d have to involve people she was sure he didn’t want knowing about the money.

Nevertheless, it was never about the money for her. It was always about the kill. But fifty million was a hundred times more than any contract she’d ever taken. And that would just be plain stupid not to do it. So here she was.

She had to admit, she hadn’t expected to see the FBI agent, or anyone else for that matter. But nevertheless, the agent was here. She was good, Alex thought, to be able to find Marianne this quickly. But the agent had a problem. She was most definitely sent here with orders to bring Marianne back. And that meant she would have to figure a way to get her out of there without causing a scene. She, on the other hand, did not have that problem. Her job wasn’t to take Marianne anywhere.

She stood up and walked to the villa.

Taylor was halfway to the car when she decided to go back. She had been lost in her thoughts when she realized she hadn’t paid attention to any of the security. She stopped and looked around, noticing small cameras here and there. That was something she was definitely going to have to be aware of. She turned back around and headed to Marianne’s villa. There was a small courtyard there, and she was sure it would be monitored. She needed to see where the cameras were and what kind they appeared to be if she was going to hack in there and make sure they could be erased.

She had just returned to the same corner she was at before when her heart nearly stopped. She backed away quickly, so as not to be seen. Slowly she peeked her head back around the corner. There, standing at Marianne’s door, was the Russian assassin, Alexandra Sokolov.

She backed away from the side of the building and went around the other way. There was no path there, just trees and shrubs. But that at least gave her some cover. There was a small patio on each of the villas on this side. She quietly crept ahead and looked for a spot to see from. She moved around another small bush, getting a little closer. She crept low, trying to stay out of sight.

The sliding glass door to the villa gave way to the view of the spacious living area. Taylor couldn’t see anyone anywhere, but she could hear movement inside. She angled her body to get a better position. Nothing. She needed to move closer, but she would be exposing herself. She decided to take the chance. It wasn’t like someone would normally be crouching out in the midst of the bushes and trees. Unless she made any sudden movements, she was sure she wouldn’t be seen. She got as low to the ground as she could and crept around to the other side of a giant palm tree that stood at the end of the patio. She gently raised her head and looked.

Past the den sat a small kitchen area with a table and four chairs. Marianne was tied up to one of them. There was tape over her mouth, and her cheeks were streaked with black lines from her running mascara. The woman’s eyes were a mixture of fear and sorrow, and the tears flowed freely from them. The Russian sat so that she was facing Marianne, her back to Taylor. The Russian seemed to be talking about something, though Megan couldn’t hear anything.

After only a few more seconds, Marianne’s eyes grew wide, as she began shaking her head back and forth. The Russian raised her arm, revealing a silenced handgun. Suddenly, Marianne’s demeanor changed. It was as if she knew what was coming. Taylor watched her shoulders rise and fall, as the woman took a deep breath and let it out again. Then she closed her eyes and relaxed against her restraints. The Russian checked to make sure the silencer was secured. She leveled her gun and fired twice.

Marianne’s head snapped back and then slowly rolled to one side. The Russian stood up and moved the dead woman’s chair out of the way. She produced a laptop and set it on the table. Taylor couldn’t read the screen, but it was obvious, after only a few seconds, that it wasn’t the Russian’s computer. She would type, stop, then smack the table in frustration.

Megan knew that there was nothing she could do for Marianne. The woman got what she had deserved. But there was a chance that she could maybe track this Russian. But she would have to get out of there right now. She needed to be back at her car when the Russian left. She backed away slowly. Once she was sure she was clear of the villa’s view, she stood up and ran back to the front entrance. The Mercedes was right where she had left it. The young man she’d thrown the keys to was standing behind the desk. She winked at him and passed him an American fifty-dollar bill. He handed her the keys and smiled. She jumped in the car and pulled out onto the street outside the exit. She found a spot where she had a clear view of the main entrance. When the Russian left, she’d be on her tail.