Dangerous Games

by Danielle Steel

  “I’ll read the material, and make some calls from New Delhi, if I have time. I have a few contacts in D.C. who might be helpful. It’s a small town, with a lot of talk,” she said, looking thoughtful. She wanted to call Foster’s widow herself and see if she could get in to see her. It would probably get her nowhere, but it was worth a shot. Alix had always admired Olympia’s dignity and courage, and it would be interesting meeting her, if Olympia was willing. She never gave interviews, but she might agree to spend an hour with her, to talk about her husband’s legacy.

  Olympia had written a book about her husband after his death, and Alix had read it and enjoyed it. It had extolled his virtues, explained his political positions in depth, and talked about his dreams for the future of the country. If what she said was accurate, it made it an even greater loss for America that he had died. The book was intelligently written and very coherent, although colored by the deep love of an adoring, grieving wife. She had wanted to honor her husband posthumously, and she had, nobly and with great eloquence. The book had sold over a million copies and been a huge success.

  Alix stood up after the meeting with Felix, with the envelope of material on Tony Clark in her hands, and he wished her luck with the story in New Delhi. He didn’t think they’d be there long, but firsthand reporting on the scene would make it more interesting for their viewers and keep the ratings high. Felix lived for that.

  Alix was thinking about Olympia Foster as she walked back to her office, where Ben was waiting for her with his bag. They had to leave for the airport in half an hour.

  “Did you get fired?” he teased, and she laughed.

  “Not yet. I’m working on it.”

  “Just to remind you, I like my job, and I’d hate to have to get used to a new partner.” He glanced at the envelope she put into her hand luggage. “Homework?” She nodded.

  “Tony Clark. Felix still thinks he smells a rat. Or, for now, a mouse. He’s hoping for a rat.”

  “And you’ve been assigned to be the rat catcher?” Ben asked with interest.

  “If there is a rat. That remains to be seen,” Alix said with a smile. She liked working with him too.

  “That should keep you busy,” Ben said and flipped through a magazine while he waited for her. All he had to do was follow her and catch the stories on film, the heavy lifting was all hers. She called Faye before they left the office, while he went to get coffee for them both. She wasn’t sure if she’d get her daughter or voicemail, and was pleased when Faye picked up. Once they were in New Delhi, it would be harder to find the time.

  “I saw the rest of the story in Alabama.” Faye sounded angry when she said it. “You’re still trying to get yourself killed. You’re lucky no one tried to shoot you. They’re going to get you one of these days, Mom.” She was resentful. Alix knew it was based on fear. Fear of losing her mother.

  “It wasn’t as bad as it looked,” her mother tried to reassure her, but Faye knew her better.

  “It was probably worse. It’s hard to believe that kind of thing can still happen today. It was all about racial discrimination under the cover of the factory owners crying poor.” Faye, as usual, got the point, she had grown up with the stories Alix covered, and she always tried to explain them to her. It had made Faye cynical at an early age, which Alix sometimes regretted, but she dealt in the real world, and her daughter was a very bright girl. “So where are you off to now?”

  “I’m leaving for India tonight. It’s a business story, so you can’t complain about this one being dangerous. I’m covering a high-tech scandal, and a big-deal tycoon going to jail. Fascinating, and tame.”

  “I figured you’d be covering the earthquake in Afghanistan,” Faye said with an edge to her voice. “I’m sure they’ll send you to some war zone soon.”

  “That’s not all I do,” Alix reminded her.

  “You do enough of it. You lied to me, you told me last year that you were going to stop doing stories like that. You’ve been in five war zones since then.” Faye always kept track, much to her mother’s chagrin, and she was right.

  “I have to go where they send me, Faye. It’s part of the job.”

  “Why couldn’t you be something normal, like a teacher or a nurse, or a weather girl on TV?”

  “My legs aren’t good enough to be a weather girl, and I don’t wear miniskirts.”

  “Don’t be so sexist, Mom,” Faye complained.

  “Sorry. I don’t want to report on the heat in Atlanta, or the snow in Vermont, or tropical storms in the Caribbean. I’d die of boredom.”

  “So you play commando. You’re going to get killed one of these days, Mom.” There was silence for a moment, and Alix didn’t know what to say. She could be right. It was how her own father had died.

  “What’s new at school?” Alix changed the subject to distract her, which didn’t always work.

  “Nothing much. I got a C in chemistry.” But she got As and Bs in everything else, so Alix wasn’t worried about her grades. She had been an outstanding student all her life. “I talked to Mamie yesterday. She said for you to call her sometime.”

  “I keep meaning to, but I haven’t had time,” Alix said, feeling guilty. She didn’t call her mother often enough. Isabelle was gracious enough not to complain, and Faye called her frequently, which helped. “She’s going to Florence and Rome on some kind of art tour. She wanted me to come too, but I can’t.” They talked until Ben reappeared with the coffee and pointed to his watch. They had to leave in a few minutes, and Alix nodded.

  “I’ll call you from New Delhi,” Alix promised, and meant it, although they both knew it might not happen if things got too busy there. “I’ll be back in a few days.”

  “Before you head out to somewhere else. Try to stay out of trouble, Mom. I love you.” She said it with feeling, and tears filled Alix’s eyes for a minute. It hadn’t been an easy road for them, but they had come through it and loved each other, and Alix knew that Faye was proud of her.

  “I love you too, sweetheart. Take care of yourself.” They hung up then, and she took a long swig of the hot coffee and smiled at Ben.

  “How is she?” he asked, with interest. He knew how much Alix loved her daughter and worried about her too.

  “A C in chemistry, but other than that fine.” He smiled in response. He had no room for family, since traveling the globe for the network wasn’t conducive to lasting relationships, or even temporary ones. His love life was hit and miss, and consisted mostly of pretty women he met but never got a chance to date, or one-night stands. There just wasn’t the time or opportunity for much else. It suited him most of the time. He had never had the urge to remarry, nor had Alix. She always said that marriage wasn’t on her list of goals, for the same reason, and she was leery of getting involved with men who would complain about her work or try to convince her to change her career. Giving up her job, even with the risks, was a sacrifice she wasn’t willing to make for any man. And she knew from experience no one wanted a girlfriend or a wife who was dancing around land mines in Iraq, or riding in a tank up a mountainside in Afghanistan to meet with terrorists. And Faye wasn’t wrong, one of these days she might get killed. So she made do and for now, the occasional chance encounter, her work, and her daughter were enough to satisfy her.

  Losing her own father to a bomb at an early age had marked Alix more than she realized. She was afraid to get too close to any man, for fear she would lose him, or herself. Her job kept her from leading a normal life and didn’t challenge her childhood scars unduly. The death of Faye’s father shortly after her birth had reinforced Alix’s fears of losing someone she loved. The only two people Alix allowed herself to love and be close to were her mother and her daughter. There was no room for a serious man in all that. Ben suffered from the same thing, for different reasons but with the same effect. Being a Navy SEAL had suited him perfectly, and this was a close second. In some form or other, he needed to challenge himself and take risks every day. It was a habit for him by
now, after the SEALs. And with Alix, as her cameraman, he could count on facing danger constantly. Ben always said that in some ways what they did was like playing Russian roulette. Neither of them was afraid of dying.

  “Ready to roll?” he asked her easily, she picked up her bag and wheeled her suitcase out of the office, while he carried his own, with his camera equipment in a heavy bag over his shoulder. They were used to traveling as unencumbered as possible. They left the office and went downstairs to find the town car waiting for them to take them to the airport. Despite his initial reluctance, they were both happy to be on the road again. Ben looked pleased to be heading out with her. This was what they were good at. And in Ben’s eyes, Alix was the best.

  “I don’t think I could live any other way anymore,” she said honestly, as they pulled away from the curb into New York traffic. “I don’t know what people do who stay home all the time and have the same routine every night.”

  “It’s called having normalcy,” he said in a quiet voice, thinking about it. Something he knew he’d never have, and didn’t want.

  “I don’t think I’d be good at it,” Alix said thoughtfully.

  “Probably not,” Ben agreed with her. The way they had both lived for years was all they knew and all they wanted, and what they were best at. And if they died in battle, they were willing to accept it. It was what they had signed on for, with full knowledge of the risks they took. She smiled at him, as the driver wove through the crowded streets and they headed for the airport. They were like two birds who had been freed from their cage and were heading for open skies again, and it felt great to both of them.

  Chapter 2

  They stopped at Heathrow Airport in London at nine A.M. local time on their way to New Delhi, and Alix did some shopping, while Ben went to get a haircut and a neck massage. They had both slept on the plane and did a lot of their living and minor chores in airports, where they spent more time than anywhere else, and they saw all their current movies on planes. They were on a noon flight to New Delhi.

  Alix had looked at the photographs and read the material on Tony Clark on the first flight, and found it very interesting. She could see why Felix was doggedly suspicious of him, but there was no evidence to indicate that Clark was taking money from any lobbyist. More than anything, he seemed to be socially involved with some of the most powerful lobbyists, and a few of the more questionable ones, but he hadn’t done anything tangible one could put a finger on to suggest that there was an exchange of favors, or that he was being bribed to meet their needs. Lobbyists served a useful purpose, to keep politicians informed of the needs and activities of the industries they represented, so the elected officials could endorse and pass laws accordingly.

  From what Alix could glean from Felix’s research, Tony Clark’s connections were intriguing, but for now it was no more than that. But she was still planning to make some calls to check it out when she got back. She had some good contacts on the Hill who liked to talk, and she wanted to hear what they had to say about him before she took it any further and reported to Felix. She had a feeling that her producer was being premature or overzealous. Maybe the Vice President was setting something up for the future but hadn’t committed any improprieties yet, or broken any laws. There was absolutely no proof of that, no matter how slimy he seemed. And Clark was no fool. He was not going to jeopardize an impeccably orchestrated career, and wind up destroying everything he had built. Of one thing Alix was sure, however innocent he looked, he was a very calculating man, and would do nothing that could injure himself. So he would bear watching, and some snooping wouldn’t do any harm, but she suspected there was nothing anyone could nail him on, and her instincts were usually pretty good.

  She studied the photographs again intently, and only one stood out to her. Clark was engaged in what appeared to be a serious conversation with a lobbyist who had been accused of paying bribes to politicians, but it had never been proven, and he hadn’t been charged with anything. The lobbyist had worked for a state gaming commission at one time.

  She and Ben talked about it as they had breakfast in the airport, after his massage. She had just bought a pair of boots at one of the high-end shops. It was the first time she’d shopped in months.

  “I agree with you,” Ben said over coffee. “If nothing else, Clark is a hell of a smart guy. He’s not stupid enough to risk everything he’s set up for himself, by taking bribes from the lobbies. That’s just not going to happen. I think Felix is barking up the wrong tree if that’s what he thinks. Tony Clark is just never going to step over that line. And he was so close to Bill Foster. It didn’t get cleaner than him. He would never have associated with a crook. They’d be in the White House today if Foster hadn’t been killed.” The motive of the gunman had never been determined. The killer was a Syrian national with a stolen passport, and he’d been shot by security before he could be questioned. There was no reason for Foster’s murder, other than an act of individual terrorism. The Syrian government had denied any connection to him or responsibility for his acts. It was just a senseless tragedy, and Clark was devastated by it too.

  “I guess it can’t hurt to ask around about Clark,” Alix said off-handedly. “I’m going to call some of my Washington sources when we get home. Who knows? Maybe he’s doing something else less direct than taking money. Maybe he’s just trying to line up campaign funds for the future, if he runs for President in four years. That sounds more like him. Connections and money. Big money for his campaign. Clark never strikes me as sincere, and he’s all about his own image and PR. But there’s no law against that. He’s a politician through and through. Foster was an idealist, and something of a visionary. They were a good combination. The realist and the dreamer.”

  “Or the schemer and the dreamer,” Ben said with a grin.

  They boarded the flight to New Delhi. Ben read a book for the first part of the flight, and Alix watched a movie, since she had already done her homework for Felix and all the prep work for their interview in New Delhi. She was interested to meet the tycoon who had gotten himself in trouble, and the intrigues of the scandal read like a modern-day TV series. He was one of the richest men in India, and had done things that were highly illegal, and made billions more. He’d gotten caught on a minor detail, and the whole house of cards had come tumbling down. Once he was exposed, people he had done business with were denouncing him all over the place. He was liable to be sent away to prison for a long time, like Bernie Madoff, who had bilked people out of billions in the States. Alix had covered that story too. Large-scale crooks were not unfamiliar to her, and made fascinating interviews.

  They both slept for the last part of the trip, got to their hotel at two A.M., and were up early the next morning for their meeting with the man they had come to see. He was currently under house arrest, and when they were ushered into his palatial home, he greeted them with total aplomb and ease. He didn’t even look worried. Alix saw instantly in the first moments of their conversation that he was entirely ego driven, and completely without remorse. He was a textbook sociopath. She had met many in her line of work, dictators, politicians, successful heads of corporations, criminals. It was a special breed, and no one was more seductive than a sociopath, which was how they got people to do what they wanted.

  The interview was interrupted by a sumptuous meal at midday in his white marble dining room, served by an army of servants. He was fascinating to talk to and he would have gone on all day if they’d let him. But Alix knew she had all she needed by the end of lunch. More would have been superfluous, and Ben was satisfied too that he had all the footage necessary to illustrate the story and the man.

  For two more days Alix and Ben met with people he had done business with and also those he had cheated, as well as government officials and legal experts who explained the consequences of his actions. No one in India seemed to have any doubt that he was going to prison, although the tycoon who had committed the crimes had no doubt that he would be exonerated. He see
med to believe that he was smarter than everyone else, and he probably was, but he had been caught nonetheless.

  At the end of three days, they had completed all the interviews they needed and concluded all their business. They were leaving the next morning, and that night Ben made a reservation at a fabulous restaurant for dinner. “We owe it to ourselves,” he said as they walked into the Dum Pukht, with its lavish blue and silver dining room and crystal chandeliers. The food was exquisite. The concierge at the Leela Palace, where they were staying, had recommended it to them. And occasionally in foreign cities an evening like this was a perk they both enjoyed.

  Alix had bought a pale blue sari for herself that afternoon, and another for her daughter, and some brightly colored bracelets she knew Faye would love. For once they were in a place where there were actually pretty things to buy. Most of the time, with the kind of stories they covered, that wasn’t the case. She and Ben were both pleased with the piece, as they discussed it over dinner. It wasn’t edited yet, but they had sent the rough cut to Felix digitally, and he was thrilled and praised them both for a job well done and an outstanding interview. He knew he could always count on them.