by S. P. Perone
Opening his mouth to protest once more, it was his last voluntary act. With a whoosh and thumping sound, like an arrow hitting a straw target, a hole opened up between Max’s eyes, and blood splattered from his ears and head. Hurtling backwards, his lifeless body spread out and hit the ground with a solid thud.
Tony and Sarah watched in horror, shocked at the sudden finality of Solomon’s action. Salomé observed the unfolding drama with stoic acceptance of what she knew would be the inevitable outcome. Her only concern now was whether or not Solomon planned to eliminate her also. She had not been in a position to hear the conversation between Max and Solomon. So, she was not privy to any new knowledge. She had done the job asked of her…but that was no guarantee of security.
She knew that Solomon would want her to eliminate Tony Shane, as soon as she had delivered the StarSight package. She still regarded Solomon as an Israeli sympathizer. But, she was puzzled by some other facts she was learning about this man. She hadn’t had time to sort them out yet. But, she knew that her contract with him would be terminated as soon as she delivered the StarSight package. She hadn’t signed on to kill Tony Shane…Solomon hadn’t known that he would be delivered…and she wasn’t about to renegotiate her contract now.
She watched as Solomon raised his hand, signaling it was time to transfer the StarSight software. Grabbing the metal travel case containing the many disk cartridges, Salomé opened the door, and dropped it to the ground next to the minivan. She closed the door, placed the minivan in reverse gear, and slowly began to back away, her firearm in one hand, pointed at Solomon’s chest. Intently, she watched him, alert to any movement, which would send deadly .357 rounds from his Glock in their direction.
Quickly, Solomon/Bear grasped what Salomé was doing. He smiled. She was good. She was delivering the goods, but protecting her own skin. He had no complaint. He knew she would dispose of Shane. Shane could only be a liability for her now. Slowly, he raised his open left hand, and waved it above his head in a gesture of approval. Then, slowly, as the minivan retreated, he walked towards the metal case, which he was sure contained the StarSight materials. He smiled to himself, realizing how shocked Salomé would be if she knew he planned to destroy these materials as soon as possible. He wanted no one to have the StarSight capability, least of all the Israeli’s. Unfortunately, Max had screwed up the destruction of the StarSight team in California, but at least the two key members would be disposed of, and he knew the system could not work without them. He was confident that, eventually, the whole project would be killed.
Picking up the metal case, Solomon/Bear returned to the Mercedes and threw it in the trunk. Getting into the driver’s seat, he looked over at Sarah, and smiled. “Miss Stenstrom. Please forgive me for the discomfort you will be experiencing for a while. I promise to make you quite comfortable when we reach our destination.”
Glaring back at him, Sarah said nothing. The look of defiance and distrust on her face spoke for her.
Smiling as he started the engine, he put the car in gear, and began to move slowly toward the exit of the parking lot. Without looking at Sarah, he said, ominously, “Your silence is noted, my dear. Enjoy it while you can. I have a feeling you will be producing a great many delicious sounds for me…when we have a chance to get better acquainted.”
Shuddering at these words, Sarah turned her head and stared straight ahead through the windshield. Alone with this monster who had just killed Max in cold blood…and frightened, she was afraid to think of what Solomon’s words to her might mean. Instead, she found herself wondering about the puzzling “contract” Salomé had entered into with Tony…and clinging to the cryptic message Salomé had left with her…Trust me. Everything will be OK.
Pulling down a side street off the main road leading out of the soccer stadium parking lot, Salomé turned off the lights on the minivan, and made a U-turn. Pulling up behind a non-descript dark green four-door Fiat, she parked the van, and turned off the engine. She pulled the handcuff key out of her vest pocket and handed it to Shane.
“Quickly. We have to change cars,” she barked urgently.
Grabbing the cache of weapons she carried in one valise, she leaped from the van, Shane quickly behind her. Running to the Fiat, she opened the door, got in and started the engine. Within seconds, Tony joined her, taking the passenger seat.
Parked behind some large shrubs, headlights off, and out of sight of Solomon’s Mercedes, she would be able to observe when he reached the exit, and determine what direction he took. It was her intention to follow him to his next destination. The fuel tank was full, and she was an excellent shadow. So long as he stuck to the main highways, Solomon would never detect her.
Chapter 23
A Night in Italy
Resting in his hospital room Thursday night, Carothers was recovering from the surgery that had occurred early in the morning. The doctors had marveled at the minimal internal damage that had been done. Partly luck, and partly thanks to Carothers’ thick muscular frame, the dagger had failed to strike any vital organs. A rapid recovery was expected, and he hoped to be released in a few days.
Within minutes of his early morning call to the U.S. Embassy, several diplomatic staff members were dispatched to the hospital. Two of them, one female and one male, had come to the aid of Ellen Moorhouse, while one senior staff member and an assistant had attached themselves to Carothers. The senior staff member, Daniel Orenthal, had a sufficient security level to act as liaison between Carothers and the White House, CIA, or FBI. Most importantly, they had brought the portable scrambler phone he had needed for the initial reports that only Carothers could have provided to Washington.
Between the White House, the Embassy, and Carothers, an official cover story had emerged. The Senator, his wife, and Carothers had been guests of Sharif’s this past evening for a late dinner. Although they knew it would not hold up for long, Carothers’ was identified initially as a “business acquaintance” of Sharif’s. Remaining late for drinks and conversation, the three of them had joined Sharif in the sitting room when a break-in occurred. They had been held captive for a few hours by two thugs, one of which searched through all the rooms. Sharif had told them repeatedly that what they sought was not there. Ultimately the thugs had become angry, and threatened to kill the prominent guests. The Senator had been shot defending his wife, who fled during the ensuing confusion. The thugs had, then, abducted Sharif, wounding Carothers, and leaving the Senator for dead. Before leaving they had set fire to the suite.
Both Ellen and Carothers had stuck to that story. But it was the Embassy staff, which fielded most of the questions.
Carothers had finally gathered information on what had happened. He learned that the Russians had contacted theSkibirsk , but no details were given. He also learned of the failed bombing attempt on the StarSight team. He was informed that Tony Shane and Sarah Stenstrom were both missing, but that Shane, at least, had been seen taking off in a car. In the confusing aftermath of the explosion, no one had followed Shane, and he had not said anything to anyone. Carothers assumed Shane had taken after someone he thought was responsible for the death of the FBI agent, the explosion, and Sarah’s disappearance. Because Shane’s car had been found subsequently at the Las Positas golf course, near the Livermore airport, he might have departed by plane. But, there was no evidence of that.
Neither Shane nor Sarah had been heard from. But, because they had been given the cell phone numbers where they could reach Carothers or the Senator in Europe, he hoped he might hear from one or both of them. And, reluctantly, the medical staff had agreed that Carothers could have his cell phone with him this evening. He had also asked Orenthal to retrieve the Senator’s cell phone from the police, if possible, and bring it to his room.
Ellen had finally been able to return to her hotel room, get cleaned up, and get some rest. The Embassy staff members were doing their job, keeping the reporters at bay. She had checked in on Carothers after his surgery, and had left word that she
would return. He was looking forward to seeing her. They had not had a chance to talk since the traumatic events of the early morning hours back at the Hotel Schweizerhof.
It was shortly after midnight in Italy. The roads around Genoa were sparsely filled with autos. Proceeding west at a conservative 100 kilometers per hour on the A10 highway, which would bring him in about an hour to Alassio, Sharif had time to reflect on what he had learned during his retreat from Zurich. Waiting for the train earlier that day at the Geneva central train station, he had found a secluded seat in a lounge, which gave him a good view of the television set over the bar. CNN was reporting the breaking news of the incident at the Hotel Schweizerhof. The official cover story had been given, but he learned that the Senator was dead, that his wife was unharmed, and that the African-American “businessman” was in serious, but stable condition at the University Hospital. Sharif was missing, and presumed abducted by parties unknown.
He had cursed the misfortune of leaving the big black intruder alive. He was no “businessman”; probably CIA. In vain, he had waited to hear CNN report that a missile attack had proceeded against the United States, that evening, but instead they had turned to the story of the terrorist bombing that had occurred in California, at a Livermore winery. It was then that he had learned that Max had failed to eliminate the StarSight team. He learned that an FBI agent had been killed, several kitchen workers had been injured, and that two members of an elite group of academic scientists working at Livermore Lab were missing.
Angrily, he had slammed his cup of strong Turkish coffee down on the table. All the frustration of failing to bring off the missile attack, and failing to destroy the StarSight project, had come to a focus on the one person most responsible for these failures. Max would pay. He would pay dearly.
With a deep breath, his thoughts returned to the present. A tight smile crossed his lips, as he remembered the look on Max’s face just before the single .357-caliber round from Sharif’s pistol sent him to eternity. That single event had gone a long way toward relieving his depression. Then, glancing over at Sarah, he reminded himself that he would soon be able to work out the anger and humiliation that Ellen had left him with. Within twenty-four hours, he would be a new man. Putting the failures of the immediate past behind him, he would be ready to take up again the cause he had pursued for so many years. Next time he would not fail.
Maintaining about a mile between the Fiat and the Mercedes, Salomé had kept Solomon in sight. Fortunately, there was enough other traffic to give her some cover. She was very familiar with all the roads in this part of Italy, and confident she would not lose him. To confuse Solomon, she had turned off at a service station once, when she knew there would be no exit for the Mercedes for a few miles. Racing back on to the highway after a minute or two, she had run at one hundred fifty kilometers per hour for a short distance until finding herself again in position about a mile behind the Mercedes. Up ahead, she knew of a side road she could take which would re-connect with the main highway further down. She would again remove herself temporarily from Solomon’s rear view mirror.
Interrupting her attention, Shane shot her a question. “Could I use your cell phone?” he asked.
“What do you want to do,” she replied, “call thePolizi ?”
“No. Carothers gave me a cell phone number where I could reach him in Zurich. I should call him. Perhaps he can help us.”
Smiling, she glanced over at Shane. “Perhaps you can tell him about my fee?”
“Don’t worry about your fee, Salomé. I’ll pay it myself if necessary. I just want as much help as possible to get Sarah away from Solomon.”
Laughing at him, Salomé replied, “Don’t worry, Tony. I’m the only one you need right now. I know how a dog like Solomon works. If you had asked Carothers for help, he would have called onme . Have no doubt about that.”
“I still need to talk to him. He needs to know what’s going on. He may be able to help, despite what you think.”
“OK, Tony. Go ahead give him a call. Here’s the phone.”
Because the Senator and Carothers had insisted, he and Sarah had committed the phone numbers to memory. Dialing in the code, he waited anxiously for Carothers to answer.
“Carothers here,” came the message in his ear, and Shane released the breath he had been holding.
“Nathan. This is Tony. Tony Shane.”
“My God, Tony. Where the Hell are you?” Carothers bellowed. “Are you and Sarah OK?”
“I’m OK, Nathan. But, Sarah’s been kidnapped. We’re on the trail of the kidnapper, though.”
“We? Who isWe , Tony?”
“I’m with someone who claims to have worked with you before, Nathan. Salomé. Do you know her?”
Stunned by Shane’s revelation, Carothers remained quiet for a few moments while he tried to assimilate this new information. Many questions immediately came to mind.
“Tony. Stop. Go back to the beginning. What’s going on?”
With that, Shane quickly related the story of the events following the explosion at the winery. He finished by describing what had unfolded in Genoa, including Max’s murder, the abduction of Sarah by the mysterious “Solomon,” and the unexpected offer from Salomé to provide her services in following Solomon and rescuing Sarah. Finally, he told Carothers where they were, what they were doing, and that he had committed a hundred thousand-dollar fee to Salomé on Carothers’ behalf.
Shane ended his story with a request. “Can you commit the funds for Salomé’s fee, Nathan?”
Despite the seriousness of the matter, Carothers had to chuckle. “Tony. Salomé must have taken a liking to you. Her usual fee is a minimum half-million!”
Shane took that as acknowledgement of Carothers’ previous business with Salomé. Glancing over at this woman he now employed, he found a new level of respect.
“Tony. Listen to me. Let Salomé handle this. She’s a pro. Keep yourself out of it, no matter how much you want to help. You’re an amateur. You’ll get yourself killed. And, maybe Sarah, too.”
The passion in Carothers’ voice was unusual. Shane wondered what had been left unsaid. So, he asked, “Nathan. What’s been happening on your end? Did any of our StarSight predictions come true?”
Just then, it finally dawned on him. StarSight had predicted a terrorist bombing in Northern California.They had been thetargets of that bombing! Through all the events that had followed, he and Sarah had completely forgotten about the StarSight predictions.
Carothers responded to Shane’s question by confirming that one of their predictions had indeed come true. He could not talk about the other, except to say it had been thwarted. But, then he had to tell Shane about their confrontation with Sharif, and the Senator’s murder. Carothers revealed that he also had been injured, but was recovering nicely in the hospital at the moment. Finally, he revealed that Sharif had referred to himself as “the Bear,” and that he was in flight.
“I can’t believe the Senator’s gone,” Shane said finally, when Carothers had finished. “I just can’t believe it. He’s a United States Senator for Christ’s sake! How could this happen?”
“Tony. I know. It’s hard to believe. He died trying to save my life. How do you think I feel? He was my dear friend. I should not have let him anywhere near this showdown with Sharif. Why do you think I’m telling you to keep out of this fight?”
It was then that Shane truly understood Carothers’ warning. Never had he heard this kind of emotion in the big man’s voice. He knew the Senator’s death had been a big blow. Shane mourned also for this strong figure, with whom he had worked so closely for the past few years.
“How is Mrs. Moorhouse…Ellen…doing?” Shane asked finally. He had only met the Senator’s wife once…in San Francisco…last month. But, he knew of the wonderful relationship they had had, the Senator and his wife. He couldn’t imagine the grief she was feeling right now.
“Ellen is devastated, of course,” Carothers replied. “She’s suf
fered a loss more horrible than anyone will ever imagine,” he continued, in his voice a hint of insight that would not be shared with outsiders. “But, she’s very strong, Tony. She’ll be OK.”
“Now, let’s get back to your situation,” Carothers switched gears abruptly. “Do as I said. Keep out of it. Call me again as soon as you know Solomon’s destination. We can have Interpol there to back you up.”
After giving Carothers the cell phone number, Shane disconnected, and turned to Salomé.
“Carothers acknowledged you had worked for him before. What do you do that’s worth half-a-million dollars?”
“Believe me, Tony,” she replied, keeping her gaze straight ahead, “you don’t want to know.”
Shaking his head, Shane told her that Carothers had confirmed the fee for her services, and that he had volunteered to contact Interpol to back them up once Solomon’s destination was known.
“Interpol will not help, Tony. We need to use stealth to overcome Solomon. They will come in with guns blazing, and Sarah will be dead by the time we get to him.”
Not revealing Carothers’ warning to keep out of the conflict, Shane asked, “Can we carry this off, Salomé? I’m very concerned for Sarah.”
“No guarantees, Tony. But, I’ll know better when we find out where Solomon is headed.”
Impatient to reach his Villa near Alassio, Sharif was pleased to see the turn-off from the A10. It would only be a dozen kilometers or so to the Via Aurella near Alassio, and the side road leading to his Villa. His spirits boosted as he guided the Mercedes onto the highway to the coast, he turned to Sarah, and said solicitously, “We’ll soon be at our destination, my dear. And you will be made much more comfortable.”
