The Italian Divide (42 page)

Suddenly, Craig understood.

“You gave Mei Ling all of the details of our operation which you received from Betty and me. That’s how the sniper knew precisely where to be. Isn’t it?”

The president’s forehead wrinkled. He walked over and placed an arm around Craig’s shoulder. “As you know very well, Craig, we live in a rough world. The US and China are the two most powerful nations. We have to cooperate and help each other to whatever extent we can. It’s mutually beneficial for both of us.”

Craig pulled away and stared at Worth. “You had this in mind from the moment I came to you with my plan to kidnap Zhou and take him to Italy. Didn’t you?” Not wanting to sound disrespectful, Craig added, “Mr. President.”

“I never liked the Italy trial idea. I thought it would get too messy for us with Italy, Switzerland, and China.”

“You could have told me that. I would have accepted your decision.”

“And perhaps I should have.”

“But you were concerned I might not have carried out the operation as efficiently. So you …”

“Used and manipulated me, are the words you’d like to use if you weren’t respectful of my office.”

“Something like that.”

Worth looked into Craig’s eyes. “By way of explanation, let me say this. I’ve studied your background and everything you’ve done for our country. In my opinion, you are among the most loyal and patriotic Americans this country has ever produced. I felt as if I could give you any assignment in our national interest and you would do it. That’s what I did here.”

*     *     *

Craig left the White House grounds through the west gate. He walked to 17th Street where Elizabeth was waiting behind the wheel of a car. He had wanted her to come with him to his meeting with Worth but she had refused. “This is your show,” she had told him.

As he climbed into the car, she pulled away from the curb.

“Do you need directions?” he asked.

“I’ve only been there once. It’s not a place I’ll ever forget.”

She headed toward the Theodore Roosevelt Bridge to cross into Virginia.

“How did it go with Worth?” she asked.

“He used me. It was all a set up. Worth and Mei Ling orchestrated Zhou’s death.”

He was astounded that she didn’t respond. “Well, aren’t you surprised?”

“No. It’s what I thought.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t figure it out until after you left me in the hotel in Ascona. Calling would have put you even more at risk if Zhou picked up the call, and besides there was nothing you could do about it.”

They were crossing the bridge. “How did you figure it out and I didn’t?”

“When I was in Beijing, Mei Ling spoke to me about her relationship with Worth. That was the piece you didn’t have.”

They rode in silence for another half hour. Finally, Elizabeth pulled into the entrance to the cemetery.

She drove slowly on the winding roads until she reached Francesca’s grave.

Then she parked and they both got out. Craig, mourning for the daughter whom the Zhous had murdered, his only child. Elizabeth, mourning for the loss of her lover’s daughter and her friend who was also her star young reporter.

Approaching the grave, it was hard for Craig to believe that it hadn’t even been three years since Francesca died.

During the whole time, he and the Zhou brothers had waged their unrelenting warfare.

In front of the grave, he moved away from Elizabeth and dropped to his knees. He lowered his head and wept for his beautiful talented daughter.

When he had no more tears, he picked up his head. As if talking to Francesca, he said, “It’s over. It’s finally over. Both of the Zhou brothers are dead. Your murder had been avenged.”

Elizabeth helped him to his feet. Arms around each other, they walked back toward the car.

“Where would you like to go now?” she asked.

“Dulles Airport. You and I have a plane to catch.”

“We do?”

“Yes. Air France to Paris. If you’ll have me, I’d like to move back in with you.”

She smiled. “I’d love it, but my place is a mess.”

“We’ll clean it up together.”

“I’d quit my job if you have other ideas for us.”

“Thanks. I appreciate that. But, no. I want you to keep it.”

“What’ll you do?”

“Race cars. I’ll move my base from Milan to Paris. There’s a big race next month in the French Alps. I want to get ready for it.”

She threw her arms around him. They held each other tightly.

About the Author

Allan Topol is the author of eleven novels of international intrigue. Two of them,
Spy Dance
and
Enemy of My Enemy
, were national best sellers. His novels have been translated into Chinese, Japanese, Portuguese, and Hebrew. One was optioned and three are in development for movies.

In addition to his fiction writing, Allan Topol co-authored a two-volume legal treatise entitled
Superfund Law and Procedure
. He wrote a weekly column for
Military.com
and has published articles in numerous newspapers and periodicals, including the
New York Times
, the
Washington Post
, and
Yale Law Journal
.

He is a graduate of Carnegie Institute of Technology who majored in chemistry, abandoned science, and obtained a law degree from Yale University. He became a partner in a major Washington law firm. An avid wine collector and connoisseur, he has traveled extensively researching dramatic locations for his novels.

For more information, visit
www.allantopol.com
.