White Jade (The PROJECT)

by Lukeman, Alex

  "What?" She was startled. "You want me to come work for you?"

  "Not me. For the President. For your country."

  "But I don't know how to be...a spy, or whatever."

  "We can train you in the things you need to know. It's not spying, we leave that up to Langley. You have skills we need. The mission would have failed without you."

  "I don't know what to say."

  "Then don't say anything. Just think about it."

  There was a pause. Stephanie changed the subject. "I can't imagine what it's like to sit in the oval office. You can't win. Half the people hate you and the other half think you're supposed to save the world, or at least their part of it."

  Carter said, "What about everyone who thinks the US is to blame for everything wrong in their lives? Remind me not to run next election."

  Selena smiled. "I'll vote for you if you run."

  "Awwww. Me, too, Nicky," said Ronnie.

  Harker laughed.

  Carter raised his glass. "Good liquor."

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Carter stood with Selena outside Grace Cathedral in the coolness of a San Francisco afternoon. The funeral service for her uncle was over. Sunlight sparkled off the waters of the Bay.

  "It was a good service," he said.

  She looked at him. "What are you going to do now?"

  "Go up to my cabin until Harker comes up with something new."

  She cleared her throat and brushed hair from her forehead. "It's getting late and it's a long drive. Stay in town tonight. We could get dinner somewhere or just eat in."

  He looked at her, the depth of those violet eyes. "You're on," he said.

  Her loft took up the entire top floor of her building. Two rows of painted columns ran the length of the main room, rising to a high, floral-patterned tin ceiling. Tall French windows let streams of light pour into each end of the space. Skylights cast rectangles of light on a polished wooden floor of light cherry. Large oriental rugs covered the floor at spaced intervals.

  The kitchen gleamed with top of the line appliances, stainless steel and granite countertops. A wet bar and wine rack sat to one side.

  The walls were painted in subtle earth tones and whites and showed off a mix of paintings and antique pieces of sculpture and art. Along one wall of the living area were six framed pages of some ancient writing. Track lighting lit everything with exact attention.

  It was carefully arranged, but it was a place you could be comfortable in.

  "This is beautiful."

  "Thank you. I love this place. How about some wine?"

  She pulled a bottle from the rack, opened it, and poured.

  They sat down on a long leather couch under a painting. Carter eyed it.

  "That's a Paul Klee!"

  "Yes. I picked it up a few years ago. I saw the Klee copy you had in your apartment. I like his work."

  He'd forgotten how rich she was. He was looking at a painting worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. Maybe even a million. Maybe more.

  "You're not worried about someone breaking in here?"

  She laughed. "Oh, no, you wouldn't believe the security. Uncle William owned the building and knew someone who worked in the CIA. He set it up. Besides, everything's insured." Her face changed for an instant when she mentioned her uncle. "I guess I own the building, now."

  She set her glass down. "Nick…Oh, hell. I'm going to say what I think. What's going to happen if we keep sleeping together?"

  The elephant in the room. She wasn't just talking about hopping in the sack.

  He took a breath. "I don't know." He paused. "I know one thing, though. I want you," he said. It's more than sex. I want you."

  It was true. He hadn't admitted it to himself until now.

  She raised her hand, touched his face, put her hand on his shoulder. He leaned toward her. Their kiss was light, gentle.

  Selena led him into the bedroom. They undressed. He ran his hands over the smooth curves and hollows of her body. They lay down on the bed. He tongued her nipples, squeezed her breasts. She made small sounds at the back of her throat. He reached down and she was wet, radiating heat. He grasped her buttocks, pulled her toward him. Her hair smelled of lavender, her breath was sweet under the wine. He was hard, harder than rock. She wrapped her hand around him and guided him in. He lost track of anything but the feel of their bodies moving together. After what seemed a long, long time he let himself go inside her, a shuddering climax that burst over him in waves. She pulled him tight against her as he came.

  After a while he lifted away. He kissed her and looked into her eyes.

  Selena saw something in the look on his face. She went suddenly still. She put her finger on his lips.

  "Don't say it."

  "Selena…"

  "Don't say it unless you mean it."

  He thought of the dream of his dead lover. "There's no point in waiting, Nick."

  He felt a headache starting. He wanted to say it. He couldn't say it. Not yet.

  Selena looked away.

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  The night was warm and pleasant. Carter left the windows and screen door of the cabin open to let the breeze blow through. He was sound asleep when something woke him.His mind tried to figure out what it was. Then he didn't have to think about it. A hammer being cocked makes a distinctive sound. The feel of cold metal against his head was just icing on the cake.

  "Do as I say or die. Wake her."

  "Who..." The barrel pressed harder into his skull.

  "Wake her."

  "Selena," he said. "Selena, wake up." He shook her by the shoulder. He felt her breath quicken, but she kept her eyes closed. She was awake.

  "Selena, wake up. Someone's here."

  She mumbled and rolled away.

  "She is awake. If she does not open her eyes, you die. I will count three. One. Two."

  Selena opened her eyes. The gun moved away and the figure stepped back from the bed. He was silhouetted against the window, his head skull-like, an angel of death.

  "Who are you? What do you want?"

  "You, Mister Carter. I want you. And that whore you are sleeping with. The esteemed Miss Connor."

  "You haven't told us who you are."

  "You don't recognize me? We have met before, so to speak. I knew your uncle, Miss Connor. He was not very strong, was he? He would have saved us all a lot of trouble if he had lived longer."

  "Wu!"

  "That is correct, Mister Carter. Former Colonel Wu. Senior Colonel, as a matter of fact. Things were going well until you interfered."

  "How did you get here? I thought we were done with you in Tibet."

  "Yes, that was difficult. I was unconscious for a long time. Once my patron's plans were discovered, I found it necessary to leave the country. But enough. Get up. Both of you."

  He gestured with the gun.

  They got out of bed, naked. Carter wished he had his pants on. He pushed the thought aside. Clothes wouldn't make a damn bit of difference to a bullet. Naked or clothed, it was all the same. He knew they didn't have much time.

  "I was going to be a powerful man in the new China," Wu said. "You destroyed that. You must pay. There is nothing left for me in China. If I am to be destroyed, you must be also."

  "What do you intend to do?" Wu's face was burned along one side, the wound still raw and ugly. From the corner of his eye Carter saw Selena's muscles tense, ready for whatever was about to happen.

  "Do? I'm going to kill you. Then I am going to enjoy the charms of Miss Connor. Get on your knees. Now."

  Not a good idea. Wu was a little out of reach, but it was now or never. Carter watched the gun. Then he heard the cat through the open screen door.

  "UUURRRRPPP!"

  Wu glanced toward that human sound and Nick launched for him. Selena leapt over the bed. He crashed into Wu and felt the hot burn of the gun going off by his face. He drove Wu back into the wall.

  Wu was quick and he was strong. He twisted and got
his arm around Nick's throat. He brought the gun up and then he screamed. Selena had a nerve lock on him.

  Wu let go and drove his elbow into Selena's stomach. She went down gasping. Nick chopped at his wrist. The gun fired into the floor and went flying. Wu brought his hand down hard and Nick's left arm went numb. Wu deflected a kick to the groin and tried for a kidney strike but Nick slipped past and slammed the palm of his right hand up under Wu's nose and drove the cartilage into his brain. Wu went down hard on his back, blood pouring from the front of his face. His feet drummed on the floor.

  Nick went to Selena, down on one knee, sucking in air.

  "You all right?"

  "Yes."

  He checked the body for life signs. When he was sure Wu was dead, he went to Selena and held her naked body against his.

  Then he called the Director.

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  Harker had a cleanup team at the cabin before dawn. They took the body. There was a long, splintered gouge in the floor from Wu's bullet.

  Carter poured a double Irish into his coffee and went out on the deck. The sun was creeping over the ridge in back of the cabin. Rivers of light streamed like white fire through the branches of the trees. Smoke-like wisps of moisture rose from the ground. The smell of pine needles and damp earth mixed with the steaming aroma of the coffee and whiskey.

  Selena came out and sat down beside him, holding a cup. The air was cool and fresh. Nick sipped his coffee. Selena brushed a wisp of hair away from her forehead with her left hand and drank from her cup.

  "This is a beautiful spot. It's so quiet." He sensed something behind her words. He waited.

  "You know, I've studied martial arts for years, but I never thought I'd have to use them."

  "The way you came over that bed after Wu, I thought you were flying. If you hadn't put that hold on him..."

  He waited.

  "I don't know who I am anymore," she said. "I mean, I do, but it's different. I keep thinking about Tibet and shooting that soldier. I killed people. I keep thinking I should be upset or guilty or something. But I don't feel guilty. I don't feel bad about Wu. I don't feel I did the wrong thing in Tibet. How can that be?"

  A big question, with no clear answer.

  "How did you feel in Tibet, in the middle of that firefight?"

  "Frightened. Alive."

  "More alive than ever before, right? You feel confused about that?"

  She looked at him. "Yes." She paused. "No."

  "What would have happened if you hadn't shot that soldier, pulled the trigger?"

  "You'd be dead. Maybe I would be, too. Maybe Ronnie."

  "Right. You made the only right choice. You didn't do it because you wanted to go out and kill someone. You did it because you had to. When you tell me you don't feel guilty, I'd say that's a damn good adjustment. When you say you're worried about why you don't feel guilty, it tells me you're a good person."

  "You sound like you have it all figured out."

  He laughed. "Sure, that's why they pay me the big bucks. I've got it all figured out. Enjoy the lack of guilt while you've got it and hope it stays that way."

  "The whole thing didn't change much, did it?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "We didn't stop Yang. All those people are dead, and what we did didn't make a damn bit of difference."

  "It wasn't our job to stop him. Our job was to find out what he wanted in that book. We did that. In the long run, maybe it makes a difference, maybe not. It's a crap shoot, what we do for Harker."

  He blew on the coffee. "What do you think about what she said? About making it official? You could always just go back to giving lectures."

  "You don't think that we—I mean us...that it might get in the way?"

  "It won't if we don't let it."

  "I'm thinking about it."

  "Good enough."

  After a moment she said, "I never thought I'd hook up with someone like you."

  "Someone like me?"

  "A man who wasn't intimidated by me or afraid I knew more than he did or who could put up with my bitchiness."

  "You're bitchy? I hadn't noticed."

  She gave him a look that said smartass. "I thought I'd find some nice, stable guy, some professional type. Then I meet you. Someone who blows things up for a living and wouldn't know stability from an eggplant. What are the odds on that?"

  "We don't need to worry about odds."

  "That's easy for you to say. What were the odds we'd get out of that mine, or out of Tibet once the Chinese showed up?"

  "I don't believe in odds. If it looks like things are stacked against you, you roll the dice and tell yourself you can do it."

  Looking over at Selena, he wondered where it would end up. For now, he was willing to let it be what it was. A roll of the dice. A beginning.

  Author's Notes and Acknowledgments

  I did a lot of research for White Jade. The comments about modern weapons, Chinese arms and capabilities, the White House, etc. etc. are all as accurate as I can make them. If there are mistakes, they're all mine.

  The history of the First Emperor is well documented, as is his quest for an elixir of immortality. His tomb at Li Shan has not been excavated. It's a very large building. The floor is said to be made of solid gold, laid out as a map of the Empire, with lakes and rivers of mercury. The ceiling is said to be studded with precious gems and pearls.

  Of course, he might not be there.

  Recently a large deposit of quality uranium ore was discovered in the Inner Mongolian region of China, vastly increasing China's reserves.

  "Connorsville" is based upon a real gold rush town not far from where I live. There is a mine, it is dangerous. The Chinese did dig secret tunnels under Marysville and Sacramento. The wealth of the gold rush was often brought to light by the hard sweat of the Chinese who came to the "Golden Mountain" to build a better life for themselves and their families.

  There are many people who helped with ideas and encouragement. My wife, Gayle, who read early drafts and made really good comments and who has to listen to me, again and again; Frank Macchi, formerly of the SFPD, who told me about the BART airshaft at the end of the Ferry Building pier and some cool stuff about the Chinese Triads in the Bay Area; Greg Skein, former Army Ranger; Glenn Frazier, a Vietnam Vet and neighbor, who keeps asking for the next book.

  Two New York agents, Emma Sweeney and Matthew Carnicelli, took a lot of their valuable time to look at the book and made excellent comments that have helped me become (I hope) a better writer.

  There are others. Thank you, all of you.

  July, 2011

  About the Author

  Alex Lukeman is a former Marine and professional musician. He likes old, fast motorcycles, Barbados rum, playing guitar and reading mysteries and thrillers. He lives in Northern California in the foothills of the Sierra Mountains.

  You can contact Alex through his web site:

  http://www.alexlukeman.org

  Blog: http://www.alexlukeman.blogspot.com

  Turn the page for a preview of THE LANCE, Book Two in the series featuring the Project, Nick and Selena. Book Three, THE SEVENTH PILLAR and Book Four, BLACK HARVEST are also available in print and digital editions. Book Five will be out at the end of 2012.

  THE LANCE

  CHAPTER ONE

  Nicholas Carter looked at Elizabeth Harker and thought if there were any elves in the world, they probably looked like her. She was small boned and slim. She had milk white skin and small ears tucked under raven black hair. She had wide, green eyes. She was dressed in a black pants suit and white blouse with a Mao collar. In two years working for her he'd never seen her wear anything but black and white.

  Harker ran the Project, the Presidential Official Joint Exercise in Counter Terrorism. She was Nick's boss. Her boss was the President.

  On Harker's desk were a silver pen, a picture of the Twin Towers burning and a manila folder. The pen had belonged to FDR. The picture was a reminder. The
folder was likely going to shape his day. Working for Harker meant he never knew if the day might leave him hanging out on the edge and wondering if he could pull himself back in.

  He heard Harker say, "Someone's thinking about making trouble in the Middle East."

  "Someone's always thinking about making trouble in the Middle East. What's different now?"

  He fumbled in his pocket, found a crumbly antacid tablet and popped it in his mouth. Carter felt the tremor of a headache starting. Harker picked up her silver pen and began tapping it on the polished surface of her desk. Each tap vibrated inside his skull.

  "The President is speaking in Jerusalem on Thursday. We have a source who says there's going to be trouble. He wants a face to face meet."

  Carter tugged on the mutilated lobe of his left ear, where a Chinese bullet had taken off the lobe a few months ago. The bandage was off. It had looked better with it on.

  It was the same ear that itched whenever things were about to get dicey. It itched now. A gift or a curse he'd inherited from his Irish Grandmother, along with dreams he didn't want to have.

  "Have you passed this to Langley? What do they say?"

  "I'm supposed to back off and leave things up to the 'professionals'." There was an edge to her voice. "Lodge says there's no need for concern."

  Wendell Lodge, Acting Director CIA.

  "He says he and his Israeli counterparts have everything under control."

  "Mossad?"

  "And Shin Bet."

  "What's Shin Bet?" said Selena.

  Selena Connor sat next to Carter on Harker's leather couch. The ceiling lights caught the reddish blond color of her hair and turned her eyes violet. She wore a tan silk outfit and a pale blouse that went with her eyes. She was the first woman Nick had let get close since Megan died. He didn't know where it was going. Or if he wanted it to go anywhere. She was new to the team, which meant she had a lot to learn, which worried the hell out of him.