Jared returned his challenging look coolly. "That's right, Corbett." Carefully he put his cocktail glass down on the mantle. "I suggest we go in to dinner now. Tania can bring her drink. I think we're eager to get the amenities over with so we can proceed to our discussion."
"An excellent idea," Corbett said heartily. "I've always admired your incisiveness, Jared. It saves so much time."
During dinner Tania was sure that neither Jared nor Corbett was aware of what they ate or of the elegant accoutrements provided. The candles in their antique silver holders spread a mellow glow on the delicate Sevres china. George, in his black jacket, moved silently in and out of the room, serving each course. The muted colors of the ancient tapestry on the far wall enhanced the scene. It all reminded her vaguely of a Rembrandt painting, with its richly contrasting light and shadows.
Jared and Corbett, except for their modern evening clothes, might have come from the same dangerous era as that old master, she thought with a chill of fear They reminded her of duelists involved in a preliminary engagement designed to test out each other's weakness. Their verbal exchange was just as full of barbs and double entendres as the conversation in the library, and she found herself eventually falling silent to watch them with a growing sense of alarm.
There was an air of exultant triumph about Corbett tonight, together with a reckless boldness that was foreign to the smooth politician she'd first met. Though she couldn't understand exactly what was going on, she did realize that it was the senator who was on the attack, and Jared who was quietly defending his position.
The dessert course had just been served when Jared decided to bring the initial skirmish to an end. He pushed back his chair and got to his feet, tossing his napkin on the table. "I don't think either one of us is in the mood for anything else, Corbett," he said with a thread of irony in his voice. "Particularly a sweet. I believe your appetite at the moment is geared more toward rich red meat. You have a lean and hungry look."
"Ah, you're fond of Shakespeare," Corbett said silkily, pushing back his own chair and standing up. "He's a particular favorite of mine. He understood human nature so well. Much better than you do, Jared." He smiled. "And if that reference to Cassius is supposed to be an insult, you failed. I find the character very admirable in many ways."
"I thought you would," Jared said coolly. He gestured mockingly. "After you, Corbett. It's time we had our little talk. I believe the ides of March is at hand."
Tania waited until the door had closed behind them before she shook her head incredulously. "Why do I suddenly feel as if I've become invisible? Do you think they even knew we were in the room?"
Kevin leaned back in his chair and reached for the crystal wine decanter. "Oh, they knew you were here, all right," he said as he refilled his glass. "I got the impression that you were very much the focus of their attention. I was the forgotten person." He shrugged. "I'm sure we'll be brought back into the picture once they've finished their little contretemps. There's nothing we can do but wait. Would you like more wine?"
"No, thank you," she said, her brow knitted in a frown. "And what was all that about Shakespeare? What was the ides of March?"
Kevin hesitated an instant in the act of setting the decanter back on the table. "You're not familiar with Julius Caesar?"
She shook her head.
Kevin put the crystal stopper carefully back into the
decanter and picked up his glass. "The ides of March was the day of betrayal. The day Caesar was assassinated."
"Let me get you a drink," Corbett said cheerfully, moving across the library to the bar against the book-lined wall. "There's no reason our discussion can't be a sociable and civilized one. Brandy and soda, wasn't it?"
"Yes, but just brandy now." Jared watched quietly Corbett poured three fingers of brandy into a snifter before preparing his own scotch and water. "By means, let's observe all the appropriate rituals." He smiled faintly. "I wouldn't want to spoil your enjoyment."
"I'm afraid you couldn't if you tried." Corbett strode to where Jared was half sitting, half leaning on the massive oak desk and handed him the snifter. "You'd have to be in control to do that, and I'm the one who's holding the reins at the moment." He strolled to the Queen Anne chair by the fire, dropped into it, and propped his feet lazily on the ottoman. "But feel free to try if it amuses you."
"It doesn't." Jared took a sip of his drink, his gaze narrowed on the senator's face, which was flushed with a reckless excitement. "I don't find anything about your subtle little threats amusing. I like to have all the cards on the table. I gather I've made a mistake in judgment in your case, Corbett. The past weeks have been an elaborate stall, then?"
Corbett nodded. "Almost from the beginning," he admitted. He took a sip of his scotch. "For a while I was tempted to go along with your idealistic dream of eternal life for the masses. I rather fancied a golden halo around my distinguished head. But that didn't last long." He laughed. "I decided I'd prefer a golden scepter instead.. Yes, you definitely made a mistake in judgment, Jared."
Jared shrugged. "I always knew there was that possibility. It was the chance I took." He lifted his glass to his lips, regarding Corbett steadily over the rim. "I realized you were an ambitious man, but I hoped you'd settle for less than the big apple."
Corbett shook his head. "I found the idea of standing in your shadow while you tossed pearls before swine very distasteful, Jared. Your way never would have worked anyway. Our world is too corrupt to accept a revolutionary advancement like this. It will require careful guidance to handle a problem this massive." "Your guidance, I assume," Jared drawled. "My guidance," Corbett affirmed. "Why not? I'm well qualified for the job. I've known I was heading in this direction since I was a kid. I just didn't realize it would be on quite this grand a scale."
"Emperor of the world instead of just President of the United States?"
"I found that expanding my horizons was no real problem," Corbett agreed. "Of course, that's quite a distance down the road. For some time I'll be working behind the scenes to form a network that will support my plans. I think I'll find it ridiculously easy to obtain whatever I want from the powers of any nation once they know what I have to bargain with."
"You're talking about a highly selective use of my work, with you playing God, of course."
"It's the only sensible course for me to follow initially," Corbett said. "Once I'm in total control I may set up a special clinic for those individuals whose accomplishments have proven them worthy of an extended span."
"Very condescending of you," Jared said dryly. "I have an idea that group would be very small indeed." Corbett nodded. "It's the rarity of any commodity that makes it valuable." He smiled mockingly. "Surely you can see that, Jared?"
"No, I can't see that," Jared said grimly. "And I doubt if it matters to you whether I do or not. Would you care to tell me where you've decided to position me in your hierarchy?"
"Oh, very prominently, Jared," the senator assured him. "You'll be essential to my operations for some time to come. Even after you furnish me with the information I need, you'll still be required for the follow-up work. You needn't think I'm going to allow you to fade into oblivion just because I'm planning on changing the scenario a bit." He gazed down at his scotch thoughtfully. "Naturally, I'll provide you with every physical comfort, just as I have over the past few weeks. Of course, I can't allow you the freedom you seem to desire, but I'm sure you'll get used to that. You're going to have a great deal of time in which to do it." He raised his gaze, and there was malice in the hazel depths of his eyes. "It's really all I can do. You're not a man I can trust to recognize the realities of the situation. You're an idealist, Jared, and that makes you very dangerous to me."
"So I'm going to be the resident Merlin in your Camelot," Jared said, his face impassive. "What brand of magic were you intending to use to accomplish all this, Corbett?"
"Do you want me to put it into words?" Corbett asked softly. "I think you're aware of th
e nature of the mistake you've made. Not that I'm ungrateful you didn't prove as invulnerable as I feared you would. I was getting pretty frustrated waiting for something to break that I could get a handle on. You'd built some very efficient defenses, you had no family or close friends 1 could use, and I couldn't risk damaging you in any way. I could only play for time and hope that you'd furnish me with enough ammunition to blow you out of the sky." He smiled with smug satisfaction. "Which you were obliging enough to do."
"Tania?" Jared kept his voice coolly impersonal. Corbett already had a dangerous degree of insight into his feelings for her. He refused to give him any more to work on.
Corbett nodded. "It was really very stupid of you to develop such a weakness at a crucial time like this. From the reports I've had, you've become passionately attached to her." He shook his head reprovingly. "She's quite charming, but is she really worth giving up your dreams for? Because that's what you've done, you know. You're a hard man, Jared, but I don't believe you're tough enough to withstand the pressure we can put on you now."
"And the nature of that pressure?"
"Why, pain, of course," Corbett said softly, his gaze fixed hawk-like on Jared's face. "Miss Orlinov is a very lovely, vibrant woman. One gets the impression that she would experience every sensation with great intensity." He paused. "Emotional and physical."
"Spell it out, Corbett," Jared said crisply. "I know you're getting a great deal of enjoyment out of this, but I'm a little tired of the game."
"Very well," Corbett said. "You give me what I want or you stand by and watch some very talented gentlemen go to work on your pretty ballerina." He smiled faintly. "I'd give orders that she not be physically marred in any way that might spoil your pleasure, but I can promise that she would suffer excruciating pain for a very extended period. Do you think you could take that?"
Jared felt an explosion of rage so savage that for a moment he went berserk. The picture Corbett's words evoked of Tania suffering while he stood helplessly by
was unbearable. Hell, no, he couldn't take that! Not without killing any son of a bitch who laid a finger on her. It took him a moment to realize Corbett was watching his reaction with a look that mirrored both hunger and satisfaction. He was playing right into the bastard's hands by letting him see the emotional response his words engendered. With no little effort he forced his features back to their former impassiveness.
"We'd have to see, wouldn't we?" He lifted the snifter and drained it. He set the glass down on the desk and lifted his gaze to meet Corbett's. "Do you think I'd let a woman I've known only a few weeks stand in the way of a project to which I've devoted most of my adult life? Would you, Corbett?"
For a moment there was a flicker of uncertainty on the senator's face. Then it was gone. "No, I wouldn't," he said as he pushed the ottoman aside and rose to his feet. "But, then, we have a different set of priorities. I think you'll find it very difficult to resist the persuasion I have in mind for Miss Orlinov." He set his glass on the end table beside the chair. "I'm not going to rush you. I'll let you have a few days to think about it." He strolled toward the door, but paused with his hand on the knob. "I'll be back from Washington at the end of the week, and I'll be accompanied by those talented gentlemen I mentioned." He smiled. "Don't make me use their services, Jared."
As he closed the door behind him and strode briskly toward the staircase, Corbett's smile widened. It had been a very satisfactory interview on the whole, and Ryker had revealed more vulnerability than he usually permitted himself. His face brightened still more when he saw Tania Orlinov approaching from the direction of the dining room, a worried frown on her face. The timing couldn't have been better if he'd staged it. Her appearance immediately after that eloquently brutal picture he'd drawn for Ryker would be most effective.
"Ah, Miss Orlinov, you've been positively angelic, putting up with our neglect of you this evening," he said, smiling with boyish charm. "But now Jared and I have finished our discussion and he can devote the rest of the evening to you. Why don't you join him?"
"I think I will," she said slowly, moving toward the door of the library. "Kevin asked me to tell you he'd gone to his room to work on those dispatches you brought, in case you inquired."
"Thank you," Corbett boomed genially. "Kevin is such an industrious young man. I feel very lucky to have him. Well, I think I'll call it a night." He started up the stairs. "I want to get an early start in the morning. Good night, Miss Orlinov."
"Good night, Senator," she answered quietly. The anxiety she was feeling was escalating in leaps and bounds. Sam Corbett was a little too sleek and well satisfied for her peace of mind.
She opened the door of the library and immediately forgot about everything but the horror that met her eyes.
Jared was lying crumpled on the carpet in the center of the room, his powerful body ominously still!
Tania wasn't even conscious of the scream that tore from her throat as she ran forward and sank to her knees beside Jared's frighteningly immobile body, or of the startled exclamation from Corbett, on the stairs behind her.
The only thing that she was aware of was Jared's white, drawn face and an exotic odor as she lifted his head on her lap to cradle him fiercely in her arms. He was so pale, so still, that he looked as helpless as a little boy struck by some deadly virus. Deadly.
"Oh, no." Her cry was an agonized moan. "Oh, God, no!" He couldn't be dead. Death couldn't come this quickly, this mercilessly. Not to Jared. But he was so still.
She could hear someone cursing, his voice violent and angry, and she was vaguely conscious that it was Corbett. Then the senator was kneeling on the other side of Jared, bending over him, his hand searching frantically for a pulse. Her eyes wide with fear, she waited in an agony of suspense.
"He's alive, but his pulse is very slow. I don't know how much time he's got." His hands were running rapidly over Jared's body. "No obvious wounds. What the hell weapon did they use?"
"Weapon," she repeated dully. She hugged Jared's head to her breast. "What are you talking about? What's wrong with him?"
"Quite possibly poison." Corbett's eyes were narrowed keenly on Jared's face. "But what kind?" His face was flushed with exasperation. "God damn it! He can't die! I won't let him." Then he was standing up an' moving swiftly to the library door. "Betz!" he roared "Get Betz here on the double."
She was vaguely conscious of a tumult in the hall, the sound of several voices, and the pounding of feet running on the polished wooden floors. Poison. How could anyone have poisoned Jared? He was all gentleness, strength, and bright, clear visions. Couldn't they see how valuable he was?
Then Corbett was back and Betz was with him. Betz went immediately to the phone on the desk and dialed number while the senator knelt once more beside Jared his hand going immediately to his pulse. "Still alive," said grimly. "I've sent for McCord. He has some medical background. We're trying to get Dr. Jeffers on the phone, though I don't know what the devil he can prescribe long distance, when we don't even know what Ryker was given!"
She barely heard more than the first two words. He was still alive, but for how long? "He's so cold," she said, rubbing her cheek against his as if to warm him. She was conscious of that same exotic odor on his breath. He must have had a liqueur instead of his usual brandy. "He smells of almonds," she said numbly.
"Almonds!" Corbett leaned forward to sniff. "It is almonds." He swiftly rose to his feet and crossed to pick up the brandy snifter on the desk. He passed it beneath his nose, and his face darkened grimly. "Almonds. They must have put it in his brandy."
She was staring at him in confusion. They? Almonds? She couldn't put any of it together. What did it matter? All that was important was that Jared live. Then Corbett was taking the phone from Betz and speaking rapidly into it.
"Is he still unconscious?" She glanced up to see Betz standing next to her, a surprisingly anxious expression on his face. His eyes were fixed on Jared's face with a compulsive intensity, as if he'd liter
ally will him out of that comalike state. "He mustn't die, you know. Dr. Ryker mustn't be allowed to die."
Of course he mustn't, she thought bitterly. Betz might be blamed for the lapse in security that had permitted this horror and lose his precious job.
She looked down at Jared and gasped. A slight grimace had appeared on his lips. "You're not going to die," she said fiercely. "I won't let you."
Then Kevin was in the room. He was still dressed in his black tuxedo trousers and shirt but had removed the jacket and tie. His face was almost as white as Jared's as he came toward her.
"God, I'm sorry, princess," he said quietly, his blue eyes bright with pain. "What can I do to help?"
Her dark gaze clung to his desperately. Thank God Kevin was here. Kevin would help Jared. "Poison." It was hard to get the words past the tightness in her throat. "They think it's poison. He can't die, Kevin." Her face was a naked mask of pain. "Please don't let him die."
He knelt beside her, his hands closing bracingly on her shoulders. "I'll do everything I can," he said simply. "You know that, princess."
Corbett was replacing the receiver and coming toward them. "Jeffers says it's almost certainly cyanide. That almond odor is very distinctive. We'll have to work fast. He'll be here as quickly as he can, but it will be too late for Ryker if we don't instigate emergency measures at once. Cyanide produces respiratory failure, and it could come at any time," he said crisply. "Betz, you're to begin artificial respiration at once." He consulted the scratch pad in his hand. "You'll also have to set up an IV with ten-milligram injections of sodium nitrate at two- to four-minute periods."
"Where the hell are we supposed to get all that?" Kevin asked, frowning. "The first-aid room is equipped with IV equipment, but I don't know if we have the rest of the stuff."
"Jeffers said we did, and he should know. He's the one who stocked the first-aid room for me." Corbett was walking toward the door. "I'll take a couple of men and hunt up what we need while you and Betz spell each other on the artificial respiration. Get cracking!"
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