Out of Sight (Project Athena) Page 12

  “How did you establish the connection?” he asked someone sitting in a high-backed chair.

  “We have a man in country who was able to overhear some critical conversations between Tumeri and his top general,” Harmon said.

  Jenna moved closer so she could hear the conversation more clearly.

  “I just don’t understand it,” President Thomas said. “How much sense does it make for Tumeri to plan to assassinate me when I’m the one with the purse strings, who’s feeding his people?”

  “I don’t think the welfare of his citizens is his number one priority. He craves power, even more than he currently has, and he has friends in the region who’ll give it to him. But those friends are not our friends, and his stock would go way, way up if he were able to pull this off. Which he won’t, Mr. President.”

  “How can you be sure when you yourself said there’s someone with access to this very building making threats?”

  Good question.

  Why didn’t anyone suggest the president go to an alternate location? Did they think him safer inside the White House than at Camp David or his home in Montana or even the dungeon the agency called home sweet home?

  But if the president didn’t know who he could trust and who might be gunning for him, would any place be any safer than another?

  “We have a plan in the works to end the threat. But we have to have your approval,” Harmon said.

  President Thomas eyed his chief of staff, then stood and walked to the window to stare outside. “When I was growing up on the ranch, I never dreamed I’d ever have to make these kinds of decisions.” He paused, kept staring through the glass.

  “Mr. President?”

  The president sighed, then nodded.

  Harmon rose from his chair. “Thank you, Mr. President.” He closed the door behind him as he left, trapping Jenna in the room.

  She turned her attention toward the president when he left the room through a side door. She stood in the Oval Office alone. She stared at the desk, wondering what the most powerful man in the world kept in his desk drawers. Files? Snacks his wife didn’t want him having? A Rolodex with the prime minister of England’s and the president of Russia’s phone numbers in it?

  She didn’t dare take a peek for fear someone, namely the president, would enter the room and catch her satisfying her curiosity.

  Jenna eased around the room, taking in everything for future reference. The man she was assigned to protect spent a good deal of his day here so she needed to be familiar with the room, its entrances, the layout — just in case.

  She started when President Thomas reentered the room and picked up the phone. “Get me Senator Fitzsimmons.”

  Jenna stayed at the edge of the room next to a bookcase filled with photographs of the president and his family as well as posed shots of him with several world leaders. After a few minutes, it became obvious that the president wasn’t going to address the Tumeri or assassination plot topics anymore. She needed to get back to the office she’d been cleaning before her break.

  Grateful for the carpeting, Jenna made her way to the side door and through an empty waiting area. In new territory, she chose her steps and directions carefully, not wanting to either run into anyone or find herself trapped in a dead end. She’d already been gone at least twenty minutes and she still had to find an unoccupied restroom in which to transform back.

  She turned a corner and stopped suddenly as a door opened and a man in a military uniform stepped from the room. The gathering around a long table in the middle of the room caught Jenna’s eye. Instinctively, she knew what she’d stumbled upon. The Situation Room.

  On impulse, she slipped inside and flattened herself against the wall. She’d seen enough of The West Wing to have an idea what went on in this room. High level threats were discussed — threats like impending war and assassination plots. And by the look of the gathering around the long table and the serious expressions on their faces, something big was being discussed.

  “What’s the latest?” Harmon asked.

  Jordan Moore, dressed in his Army uniform with its impressive array of medals, stood at the head of the table. “Our man says Tumeri is getting anxious to make a big play. He’s tired of not being a bigger fish.”

  “Yes, but has he actually said the words? Has he ordered the assassination?”

  The general sighed. “Not until yesterday. He’s been careful until this point. You don’t stay in power as long as he’s been without being watchful all the time, conscious that there could be a rat within hearing distance. Tumeri wants the credit for taking out the president with his buddies in the area but also wants to be able to deny any knowledge or association should things not turn out as planned.”

  “Why the unexpected move?” Harmon asked.

  “Frustration. Despite the warning notes, the president hasn’t backed down on his stance to end relations with and aid to countries with corrupt leadership. Tumeri knows he’s in that group. Not only will he lose the aid, we’ll shut down any illegal sources of revenue.” Jordan looked at each man around the table. “Tumeri isn’t the only leader angry, but he’s the one evidently willing to take serious action.”

  Jenna eyed the map projected at the front of the room and inched closer to be able to see it better. The North African country of Mindu was highlighted. Tumeri’s country.

  “Why is it every decade or so we have trouble out of that area? And why the hell haven’t we cut them off before?” The disgust sharpened Vice President Archer’s voice.

  “The trouble is a combination of things, greed mainly,” Moore said. “No matter how much you give, it’s never enough. Probably because many of these leaders are not using the aid as it was intended. They’re selling it to pad their own pockets. And it’s no secret Tumeri has greater aspirations. As for the latter, that is not for me to say, sir.”

  “That’s all for now,” Harmon said, and the room emptied of everyone but him and the general. When they were alone, he asked, “Have they located Tumeri?”

  “Not yet. He moves often, and each of his palaces are well guarded and located off by themselves. Not much approach cover.”

  “Keep looking. And remember, keep this quiet. We can’t let it out. If it gets out, we’ll deny everything.”

  Moore and Harmon stood, and Jenna used the sound of their movements to mask her own as she hurried to the side of the door. Harmon opened the door and paused for a moment to say a final word to Moore, a moment in which she made her hasty exit. She had to get back to work and quick. Not to mention she’d pressed her luck by venturing into both the Oval Office and the Situation Room in the same outing.

  By the time she returned to the area with which she was familiar, nearly forty-five minutes had gone by. But when she reached a ladies restroom, it was only to find Patti and Barb standing outside it.

  Damn it! She couldn’t just leave, though she really needed to talk to Daniel. But she also had to have her cover.

  “Have you checked everywhere?” Patti asked, her face pinched.

  “Yes, we’ve checked all the restrooms, the alcoves, did a walk-through of the entire floor. And Calvin checked the grounds areas where she likes to sit during lunch.”

  “How do I explain I’ve got a missing employee?”

  Jenna turned and hurried in the other direction. She had to do something fast.

  She ducked into the first restroom she could find unoccupied, the one nearest the Oval Office, and did a quick change that left her woozy from a head rush. After wetting the hair around her face, she made her way back to the spot where the women had been before. But now the hallway stood empty. Jenna wasted no time heading for Patti’s office.

  She was surprised to see Ken Harmon, Rennie and two uniformed Secret Service agents standing inside when she entered. Her heart rate tripled. Harmon had just been talking about the threat to the president not ten minutes before, so a missing employee inside the White House was cause for alarm.

  “Where hav
e you been?” Patti asked, her anger raising her voice.

  Time to act like she was going for an Oscar.

  “I’m sorry I was gone so long. I’m not feeling well today. I thought I was going to pass out so I sat in the Map Room for awhile — it’s quiet and cool in there. I must be coming down with something because I had to go throw up.” Jenna wiped at the wet hair above her forehead for effect.

  “We checked all the restrooms. Which one were you in?”

  They hadn’t checked them all at the same time, so she could still wiggle her way out of this.

  “The one at the nearest end of the West Wing. Not as many people use that one, and I wanted a little privacy.”

  She must have given a convincing performance because some of the accusation in Harmon’s eyes dissipated. He turned his attention to Patti. “We checked with the Oval Office, and everything is okay.”

  They’d checked to see if one of the mysterious notes had appeared. Thank God it hadn’t or she’d be toast.

  “I’m sorry if I caused trouble. I...I just didn’t want to be sick where anyone would see.” She did her best to look like she was on the verge of tears.

  Harmon nodded, then left. Patti still eyed her though, as if she were trying to peel away the layers of lies. Jenna hoped she wasn’t remembering the timing of her hiring and the subsequent computer fiasco.

  Jenna deliberately avoided Rennie’s gaze though she felt his burning suspicion.

  “If you’re that sick, go home. We don’t need you here making everyone else sick,” Patti said.

  “Thank you.”

  Jenna kept up the charade of sickness, even pausing once to bring her hand to her forehead, as she walked down the hall, exited the building and headed for the parking lot. Once inside the car, her mind spun with all she’d seen and overheard. For once, she couldn’t wait to see Daniel.

  She called him on his cell. “Meet me outside agency headquarters.”

  “What—?”

  “Not on the phone. Just do it.” She ended the call and wove her way through the busy city streets. When she reached the agency building, she wasn’t surprised to see Daniel leaning against the front of his spook car, waiting for her.

  She stepped from the Pinto and headed for the front door of the building. “I need to talk to your boss.”

  Daniel fell into step beside her. “What’s going on?”

  “I know who’s behind the notes.”

  “Who?”

  She waited until they were in the elevator. “A guy named Tumeri in Africa.”

  He scrunched his forehead. “The Minduan dictator?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why haven’t I heard that?”

  “Good question.”

  Despite her instigation of the visit, Jenna couldn’t help the chill that scurried across her skin as they descended into the bowels of the agency. When they reached the interrogation room, she went on the offensive. “Knock, knock. Anybody home?”

  “I hope the impromptu visit means you have some useful information,” the hidden man said.

  “Indeed, I do. I just left the Situation Room where I overheard that the U.S. government is planning a pre-emptive assassination.”

  “Of whom?”

  “Some greedy bastard named Tumeri in Mindu. Seems intelligence on the ground there has indicated he’s the source of the president’s mysterious messages.”

  “Who’s his person in the White House?”

  Jenna’s steamroller slowed. “That I don’t know yet. But there’s a Secret Service guy who doesn’t seem to like me a whole lot.”

  “It’s not Rennie,” Daniel said.

  She spun toward him. “Oh yeah, that would be because he’s another spook, the one you all forgot to tell me was spying on me. Anything else you forget to tell me? Like maybe some dude on the other side of the Atlantic is behind this whole mess?”

  Daniel seemed to be waiting for the answer as much as she was.

  The audio link clicked off.

  “What the—?” Jenna fixed her gaze on Daniel. “The bastard cut me off.”

  “Wait.”

  She strode across the room, wanting to scream they were wasting time. The agency needed to refine its examination of the White House personnel, look for any ties to Tumeri.

  A full ten minutes passed before the audio link reactivated. “It appears you’re correct. The information came from a higher level.”

  The faceless man sounded perturbed, which gave Jenna a huge sense of satisfaction.

  “That still doesn’t eliminate the threat inside the White House,” he said.

  “Unless you know something I don’t, I think the best bet is to eliminate the source. Take out the source, and what incentive does the hit man have?”

  “As I’m sure you also heard, they’ve not been able to get near enough to Tumeri to take care of him.”

  She could get near him. The thought came unbidden, and it shocked her. She’d been trained to protect people, to only fire her weapon when absolutely necessary. Could she kill a man in cold blood even if he was a killer himself? The irony of the situation slapped into her — two African tyrants, two assassinations, her and her father connected in more ways than name and blood. If she finished this, she could look for him.

  “I’ll do it.”

  Daniel looked at her, surprise in his eyes.

  “I can get close enough.” She swallowed hard. “I’ll take out Tumeri.” She paused. “And when I do, I expect everything you know about my father.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The pilot sat the helicopter down in the middle of a vast expanse of brown that looked like it hadn’t seen vegetation or moisture in decades. The rotors kept spinning, kicking up dust in a funnel around the unmarked craft. Jenna and Daniel barely made it out of the back and clear of the blades before the helicopter lifted off and sped toward the horizon that marked Mindu’s northern border.

  Jenna watched the black spec stick close to the ground, the pilot using the low hills to partially block the ability of radar to pick up the craft. Though Daniel stood next to her, she’d never felt more alone as the helicopter grew smaller and smaller.

  “Come on, we’ve got to move fast,” Daniel said.

  Jenna slid her pack over her shoulder and followed as Daniel led the way across the sun-baked flats toward a group of hills a couple of miles away. She swallowed against sudden thirst. Already, the atmosphere had sucked her mouth dry. She slid the water bottle from the side of her pack and took a warmish drink. Still, it was wet and thus the best water she’d ever tasted.

  “Make that last,” Daniel said without looking back at her. “Don’t take for granted that our ride will be there.”

  “You said there’d be a car within two miles of where we put down.”

  “I said there was supposed to be a car. Nothing here is certain.”

  Except that she was full-blown crazy for being here. Had she actually volunteered for this?

  She scanned the horizon, not sure if she welcomed or feared the coming darkness.

  Daniel sat a brisk pace, and she followed without a further word. She imagined her father running across a similar landscape toward a similar mission. The irony smacked her harder than the African heat.

  Her heart beat hard and fast by the time they reached the rocky hills, but Daniel didn’t pause before climbing and winding his way along what looked like no more than a goat path. Though if a goat could survive here, it’d be a miracle. She watched Daniel’s feet and placed hers in the same spots as she followed, doing her best to make safe and quiet progress.

  When he stopped suddenly and flattened himself against one of the rock walls, she halted in mid-step. He motioned for her to move next to him. She mimicked his position. The stored heat of the day soaked into her from the rock.

  In the waning light, she made out Daniel’s mouthed command. “Stay here.”

  She didn’t particularly like that idea, but she stayed. This wasn’t D.C. where she could
find her way home if necessary. She hated being dependent, but sometimes it was the key to survival.

  Jenna strained her ears to hear every whisper of sound as Daniel moved away down the path and out of sight. The minutes stretched, each longer than the last. She held her breath, then breathed slowly, then held it again, thankful she heard no evidence of a struggle or gunshots.

  When she heard footsteps coming toward her, she peered down the darkened path. Daniel emerged, and she exhaled in relief.

  He said nothing, just motioned for her to follow. Though daylight had faded, Daniel didn’t slow his pace by much. She slipped on loose pebbles once but managed to bite down on her tongue before she cursed aloud. When they reached a beat-up little car that would make the Pinto look like a Lincoln Town Car, she nearly kissed it. She didn’t care what it looked like, it represented the ability to flee faster than her feet could take her.

  She dropped into the passenger seat as Daniel slid into the driver’s. He started the car, put it in gear and headed into the night with an economy of motion. He didn’t speak as they maneuvered away from the rocks and crossed several more miles of flat terrain in darkness. When the wheels finally met a stretch of cracked pavement, Daniel switched on the headlights and increased his speed.

  “We’ve got about fifty miles until we reach Cardoma,” Daniel said. “Get some sleep.”

  Jenna looked out the car’s dusty window at the sliver of moon awakening at the horizon. “I can’t sleep.”

  “Try.”

  When was the last time she’d had a decent night’s rest? Since the decision had been made to undertake this journey, she’d been too busy with briefings to grab more than a few minutes at a time. She leaned her head back and forced herself to think of a blue-green stretch of water along the Gulf Coast and a glass of lemonade three feet tall, not what waited for her in Mindu’s capital city.