by Lynn Ames
“That’s most kind of you.” Vaughn got the feeling she was about to be dismissed. Before that happened, she wanted a little more information. “I’m scheduled to meet with some of the local and national political leaders in the coming week. Is there anything you think I should know? Do you have any concerns?”
Dumont seemed to consider. “No. Relations between our two countries are good, and our personnel have been well accepted in the community.”
“Do you have any advice for me? Anything in particular I should focus on? Any of the activities or events which you think might be more problematic than any of the others?”
“I expect the visit to go off without a hitch.” The ambassador met Vaughn’s eyes for the first time. “It’s your job to make it so, is it not?”
“Yes, sir, from a security standpoint, that is certainly true. And I assure you, it will.” Vaughn hoped he could not see the anger snapping behind her eyes. “Are there any questions I can answer for you, sir?”
“Not at this point, Ms. Elliott. I’m sure you know your business quite well. If you need anything further from me, just let my executive assistant know.”
“Thank you, sir, I’ll do that.” Vaughn picked up her briefcase, pivoted, and strode out of the office. She didn’t stop walking until she was two blocks away from the embassy.
“You miserable son-of-a-bitch. You sanctimonious, lying sack of shit!” Vaughn turned left, then right. Finally, she growled deep in her throat and thrust her free hand in her pocket.
The sun was high in the sky. At least five hours had passed since Sage disappeared. Vaughn closed her eyes. She could be almost anywhere by now. I need help. Purposefully, Vaughn headed for the hotel. It was time to call in reinforcements.
“Oui, Mademoiselle?” The clerk at the registration desk in the Hilton was all polite attention.
“I don’t want to trouble you,” Vaughn said, “but I wonder if you might have a different room available for me?”
“Is something wrong? Can I do something? Is your room not satisfactory?”
“No, no.” Just a precaution. “I wonder if you might have something available on the top floor, though? I’d love to enjoy the view.”
“Bien sûr.” The clerk’s fingers flew over the keys. “Ah, I have just the thing.” He looked up at her. “Your room is registered to the U.S. State Department. Will that stay the same?”
“Yes. It’s direct billed to their account, correct?”
“Oui, c’est ça.”
“That’s perfect.”
The State Department probably had fifteen or more rooms booked in the hotel on their account. It would be harder for anyone to target Vaughn’s room if they weren’t sure which one was hers. If that had been her only concern, though, she could’ve stayed in the same suite.
The room switch was in case anyone already had found Vaughn and planted a listening device in her suite or set up surveillance. She hadn’t brought equipment to detect such things—hadn’t, in truth, figured on needing it.
Since the ambassador appeared to be involved, or at least complicit, Vaughn had to assume the kidnappers were a sophisticated bunch with advanced tools. She made a mental shopping list of supplies and technology she should acquire.
“Shall I have someone move your things, Mademoiselle?” The clerk was holding out the new room key to her.
“No. That won’t be necessary. I’ll take care of it. Thank you so much for accommodating me.”
The hallway was empty when Vaughn emerged from the stairwell. The thread still was intact in the door lock. A quick check of the drawers showed that they hadn’t been tampered with. That doesn’t mean someone isn’t listening or watching.
Vaughn didn’t want to take any chances. She packed up her few belongings, made a last sweep of the room, and headed for the top floor. Once she had settled in, she pulled out her cell phone. First, she called Henri to tell him she wouldn’t need him after all. Then she dialed an international exchange.
“Oui.” The voice on the other end of the phone was a deep rumble.
“Jackson, my man, is that any way to greet an old friend?”
“Vaughn Elliott? Is that really you?”
Vaughn laughed. “In the flesh.”
“I’ll be dipped in chocolate.”
She laughed at the use of such an American expression in heavily accented French. “How’s tricks?”
“You reappear in my life after twenty years, and you act as though I saw you yesterday. You are something, Vaughn Elliott.”
“I’ve missed you, Jackson. But I’ve kept tabs on you. There’s been less wanton police brutality in Burkina Faso since you became the head gendarme. I’m proud of you.”
“You knew of my promotion?” His voice swelled with pride at the compliment.
“You bet. You were always one of my favorites.”
“You taught me well.”
“You were easy to teach. But enough of that. I don’t want you to get too much of a swelled head.”
Jackson laughed—the full, rich sound of a man who enjoyed life. “So, the truth is you didn’t call to reminisce, yes? What is it you need, Vaughn Elliott?”
“Perceptive, as always, Jackson. I need your help. I’ve run into a bit of trouble next door in Mali.”
“You’re in Mali?”
“Yes, and I’m feeling like a fish out of water.”
“Crossing borders and interfering in another country’s politics is risky business.”
“I know. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t desperately important, my friend. And I don’t want anything official. In fact, the less official, the better, if you get my drift.”
“Hmm. I do. I do, indeed. Tell me all about it, and I will see what I can do for you.”
Vaughn smiled for the first time in hours. Hold tight, Sage. The cavalry is coming. After explaining the situation to Jackson, she hung up and dialed another number.
“Hi, I need help…”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Sage had no concept of how much time had passed, except that the heat of the sun seemed less intense. She estimated that they’d been traveling for hours. Her body ached, the blindfold itched and, despite the paucity of water she’d been given, her bladder was making itself known.
Other than the noise of the camels’ hooves and her captors’ continual bickering, there wasn’t a sound to be heard. Although Sage hadn’t given up on escaping, she knew her chances of surviving on her own this far from civilization were slim. She clung to the hope that if they had wanted her dead, they would’ve killed her already.
It took several seconds for Sage to realize that the camels had come to a halt. She pitched forward as the camel went to its knees. Rough hands pulled her from the camel’s back, even as others untied her from the saddle horn. A sharp object prodded her in the back, propelling her forward. She heard what sounded like a shovel digging, and her heart leapt into her throat.
She whipped her head right and left. They’re going to bury me alive. Sage had seen documentaries on ancient customs where offenders were buried up to their necks in the sand and left to die. Her knees buckled. Strong fingers gripped her elbows and held her upright.
Voices next to her ear made her jump. She was lifted off her feet and set down in a narrow hole. It was deep enough for her to stand in. Oh, God. A sob rose in her parched throat. Desperately, she twisted her wrists, trying to free herself. Strong hands gripped hers, stopping her motion. Words were spoken that she didn’t understand—a command. When she didn’t respond, the voice said, in halting, mangled French, “pee.”
Enthusiastically, she nodded. The hands released her and she heard footsteps recede a short distance away. She squatted. When she’d finished, she was lifted back out of the hole. Thank you, God, for not leaving me to die. She wanted to weep.
Pressure on her shoulder forced her to sit. A water bottle was thrust between her hands and she drank greedily. Around her, she heard the creak of leather and the pounding of wood. They wer
e erecting tents, stopping for the night. She closed her eyes in thanks behind the blindfold. She’d lived through the day.
Vaughn hunched over the desk and smoothed out the page she had taken from Sage’s blotter. She compared the appointments listed with a roster of embassy employees she’d pulled from her briefcase. “Sometimes being a pain in the ass is a good thing,” Vaughn muttered to herself. She’d insisted, over his vehement objections, that Stephen conduct thorough background checks on everyone connected in any way with the embassy. As a first step, he’d provided her with the roster during their initial meeting.
Sage didn’t have anything on her calendar for the previous day. The appointment with the ambassador was marked for that morning. Vaughn noted that she and Sage were scheduled to meet with Jean Baldour the next day and tour the hall where the National Assembly held session. Senate Majority Leader Stowe would address the assembly on the second day of the delegation’s visit.
Sage had made a notation next to the entry—make sure Agent Elliott has a chance to look at the layout for security purposes. Vaughn smiled, pleased that Sage understood her needs.
Similar appointments were scheduled for the remainder of the week. Vaughn drummed her fingers on the table. Certainly not the behavior of someone who thinks she’s going out of town.
The ambassador had said he’d only ordered Sage to make the site visit the previous day. Although she knew in her gut that he was lying, training and experience forced Vaughn to consider every possibility, including the slim chance that the assignment was real. Perhaps Sage hadn’t had time to mark it on the calendar or adjust the schedule. “Ridiculous. She would’ve told me during dinner.”
Vaughn frowned. Maybe Sage had planned to break the news when she got back from her run. Telling Vaughn she was being passed off to another control officer in the middle of their interlude might have been a real mood killer. She might well have decided to table the discussion until morning. “If that’s true, then we’re back to square one and the ambassador’s off the hook.”
The phone on the table vibrated and Vaughn snatched it up quickly. “Yes?”
“As of fifteen minutes ago, I’m officially on vacation.”
“Justine…”
“Don’t, Vaughn. You called. I answered. I want to do this.”
Vaughn balled her free hand into a fist. She didn’t want to involve Justine. If the Company found out, it could jeopardize her career. Vaughn had only asked her for some intel and a few pieces of equipment.
As if reading her mind, Justine said, “You can’t give your full attention to Sage and focus on the congressional visit at the same time, and you know it. If you try, you’ll be endangering all of them. It’s your first assignment for State, and it involves the safety of the highest ranking elected female in U.S. history. You don’t have a choice, Vaughn. The visit has to be your priority.”
The truth of Justine’s remark hit Vaughn like a sledge hammer in the middle of the chest. “Okay. I won’t tell you I’m not grateful as hell for the extra eyes and ears.”
“Good. I’ve been working on the intel. Not much there. Dumont is a career civil servant. Did his undergrad at University of Pennsylvania, then went directly on to grad school—Fletcher, which is part of Tufts.”
“Childhood?” Vaughn asked, pulling out a note pad.
“His parents were well-off. Father a hot-shot lawyer with a big firm in New York. Mother was a career socialite. Little Raymond went to a private high school and, by all accounts, led a pretty sheltered life as a boy.”
“Poor little rich kid. Did he join the diplomatic corps right out of Fletcher?”
“Yep. His first assignment was in…”
Vaughn could hear the clicking of keys on a keyboard.
“The Ivory Coast. After that he did stints in Niger, Mali, Brussels, Switzerland—”
“Wait! “He was in Mali before?”
“Yes. From 1992 to 1994.”
“Hmm. That’s interesting, don’t you think?”
“It makes sense that they would appoint him to an ambassadorship in a place he was already familiar with, Vaughn.”
“True. Still…it’s worth exploring, anyway.”
“I’ve already got someone doing a little digging.”
“Do you now?”
“What? You didn’t think I’d know enough to follow up on something with obvious potential significance?”
“Mea culpa. I should’ve trusted that you’d have it covered.” Vaughn did her best to sound contrite. “When did Dumont get appointed ambassador?”
“Last year. Confirmed by the Senate in October.”
“When was he nominated?”
“Two years ago. The Senate was holding some of the nominations hostage in a disagreement with the White House over the nominee for ambassador to the United Nations.”
“Ain’t politics grand?” Vaughn tapped her pen on the pad. “It might be worth looking into how much money our illustrious ambassador contributed to the president’s election campaign. How much do ambassadorships go for these days?”
“Vaughn Elliott. You are so cynical.” Justine chuckled knowingly, and Vaughn realized that she had already investigated this angle.
“Well, how much was it?”
“A cool quarter of a million dollars.”
Vaughn whistled. “That’s a lot of dough for a career civil servant.”
“Mmm-hmm. Sure is.”
“I suppose you’re already following the money trail.”
“Naturally. Looks like he inherited a bundle from his daddy.”
“So he bought himself an office in a third world country. Wonder what Paris goes for?”
“More than I’ve got in my bank account, that’s for sure.”
“You and me both.” Vaughn walked to the window and looked out at the lights winking in the city. “Not to rush you, but when do you think we’ll have answers on Dumont’s previous stay in this lovely backwater?”
“Tomorrow or the next day.”
Vaughn thought about Sage, out there somewhere, bleeding and alone. She pressed her forehead to the glass. “See if you can’t expedite that, okay?”
“We’ll find her, Vaughn. I promise you we will. Keep the faith.”
“Thanks.” Vaughn idly wondered if she even remembered what faith was and when she’d lost it in herself.
“By the way, I’ll be there tomorrow. Late afternoon.”
“You’ll—” The announcement jarred Vaughn back to the moment. In order for Justine to get there so quickly, she would already have to be in Paris.
“I heard Bamako was a great vacation spot.”
Justine’s tone was light, but Vaughn could imagine what it had taken for her to arrange everything in less than four hours. “Where were you when I called earlier?” She hadn’t thought to ask at the time.
“Finishing up an assignment in Brussels.”
Vaughn swallowed around the lump in her throat. “I can’t tell you what this means to me.” Maybe faith wasn’t such a bad thing to have. With Justine on the ground with her, the odds of locating Sage improved significantly.
“Don’t mention it. Besides, I like having you owe me.”
“Seems to me there are already debts outstanding on my tab.”
“I’m stockpiling. Where should I meet you?”
For the first time since she’d seen the sneaker and the blood, Vaughn felt energized. “I don’t know where I’ll be at that point. It depends on what happens tonight and how my meeting goes with Sage’s replacement in the morning.” Then there was the matter of the appointment with Baldour. She strode back to the table and stared at the schedule on the blotter.
“A little bit too convenient, that.”
“What, the replacement? Yeah, I thought the same thing. I’m telling you, Dumont couldn’t look me in the eye. He knew it sounded bad. The prick.” Vaughn gripped the sides of the table to keep from punching something. If only she could’ve shaken the truth out of him, Sage might
be safe now.
“We’ll get to the bottom of it, Vaughn.”
“Time’s not on our side.”
“We’ll move heaven and earth. You’re doing everything you can.”
Unspoken between them was the memory of Sara and the explosion. How many times had Justine said the exact same words back then?
“Everything I can isn’t good enough.” Vaughn’s anguish was still close to the surface.
“Don’t do this to yourself. You have to believe, Vaughn. If you don’t, Sage doesn’t stand a chance.”
“We don’t even know if she’s alive.”
“We don’t know that she’s not,” Justine countered.
The muscles in Vaughn’s jaw clenched. She couldn’t argue with that. Shame washed through her veins along with doubts and self-recrimination.
“Who’re you meeting with tonight?”
Vaughn recognized the deliberate change in topic and accepted it. “An old buddy of mine from a lifetime ago. A wild man from my time in Burkina Faso. I saw potential in him, rescued him from a jail cell, and molded him into a fine soldier for freedom. Now he’s in charge of the country’s police force.”
“It’s nice to have good friends nearby.”
“Indeed, it is. He’s a little jumpy. Wouldn’t do for Burkina Faso to get tangled up in Mali’s affairs.”
“I’m sure you’ve assured him of the confidential nature of the operation.”
“I have. I told him I wanted this as unofficial and untraceable as possible. I gave him my word I’d protect him if he helped me.”
“Obviously he said yes.”
Vaughn shrugged. “He owes me and he knows it. We’ll be square after this.”
“How much help will he be?”
“He knows the terrain, he’s got some contacts, and he’s sitting on a nice cache of firepower he got from us several years ago.”
“That’s handy. I couldn’t begin to fathom how to explain that a tourist needed several semi-automatics, scopes, and night vision glasses.”
Vaughn checked her watch. “I’ve got to get going. Give me a call when you touch down.”
