"I still don't understand . . ."
"Safwan's coming to Dallas, Brian. He arrives there tomorrow. He's not coming to see the Cowboys play football. The CIA believes he's coming for you and Nicole. If that's what's happening, he's operating under orders either from Amina or her father. She pretended not to know where he was going, but the CIA doesn't know who's involved."
"He's coming for us?" Nicole shouted. "What does that mean? Amy wouldn't hurt us!"
Harry answered, looking intently at Brian. "It's more likely her father. Here's my personal take, and Don agrees with me. I think that Safwan found the bugs you planted and Amin left them in place to throw us off. They don't know who sent you or why, but you can bet they've done a lot of background work on you. Hassan Group has unbelievable resources, and Amin usually gets what he wants. The easiest thing for people to find out is the connection you and I have. Amin does a background check on Brian Sadler and finds out he's best friends with the President, who's just mysteriously disappeared in the loss of Air Force One. Suddenly it's no mystery in Amin Hassan's eyes why you were picked to bug his daughter's office. You're an antiquities dealer, so you and Amina already have a connection that'll get you inside her office. Plus, you're secretly working for the American government. That's not only true, it's a logical connection anyone might assume if they found the bugs."
He paused a moment. "I don't think Amina knows about the bugs, and after our conversation with her, I think she doesn't know about the rest of this. She plays no active role in management even though Zarif keeps her under surveillance twenty-four hours a day. She's basically her father's hostess, wining and dining his celebrity and royalty pals as they blow through London on their way to one island paradise or another to unwind. I said that the CIA's had all three of them on its radar for several years. During that time Amin has always called the shots and Zarif has always carried out his orders."
"So you really think Amina doesn't know I planted the bugs?"
"Right, but again, that's just my opinion. I say she believes you came because you want to display her ancient relics. Fortunately for us, you actually were intrigued by what she has, so that made your visit even more realistic. Next, you were attacked on the street just after having dinner with her. Don thinks that was a warning. Maybe it was Zarif acting on his own. It's a known fact that he doesn't like Amina. He's been seen scolding and berating her in public. I think he resents her being presumptive head of the London operation, even though he answers to her father.
"Here's the bottom line, from where I see things. Zarif finds the bugs and tells Amin. Either Amin or Zarif decides to have you beaten up, but that doesn't make you go away. In fact, just the opposite happens. Amin sees his daughter becoming personal friends first with you, and then you, Nicole. She hangs out with you all in London; then she buys a ticket to come visit you in Dallas. That was the last straw. Amin orders his hit man to pay a visit to Dallas first."
Harry told them there was only a little of the story left to tell. When Safwan bought his ticket, it was time to pull Brian and Nicole out of harm's way, and both were brought here to the island. "As much as we love having you here, I hope this visit doesn't last. We can't keep this a secret for long."
That was something Brian had been wondering himself. "What has to happen in order for you to go public and announce that everyone's still alive? Man, that's going to be the most amazing revelation in history!"
"Just keep an eye on the President," Harry replied. "Exxon is the key to everything. I'm looking for an executive order or an amendment buried in some unrelated piece of legislation or a subtle change in the nation's energy policy. Something's going to happen really soon because Hassan's not a patient man. He's waited long enough and he's been spurned already. It won't happen again because his man's in power now. Before long, a little change here or there will allow Hassan Group, a private foreign company headed by a man who funds terrorism, to swoop in and buy control of ExxonMobil. It'll happen so fast nobody will see it coming. The second he gets the okay to dominate world oil is the moment we'll make our move."
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Cham Parkes and Lou Breaux sat in the Oval Office, where the Vice President had become something of a regular every evening around five. He and the President drank Scotch on the rocks while Parkes filled the room with smoke from another of his stinky cigars. Lou wasn't complaining, of course. Thanks to Cham, he was headed straight toward Easy Street for the rest of his life.
"The cabinet appointments went well," Breaux commented in his New Orleans drawl. "The press didn't have much to say about them, and it sounds like the Senate isn't interested in picking a fight with you, at least so far!"
"It's perfect timing," the President replied with a grin. "We're in the middle of a presidential election and that's all anybody's focused on. The folks on the Hill are spending all their time scrambling around trying to choose the Republican nominee now that Harry's out of the picture. I couldn't have planned it better if I'd done it myself!" He grinned smugly in the knowledge that, in fact, everything had been planned perfectly. Breaux would never know that, of course. All Lou had to do now was shut up and go along for the ride. So far he was doing exactly what he was told, and that was good.
The new cabinet appointees, two from Parkes's home state of Texas and one from Breaux's native Louisiana, would face Senate confirmation, but in the meantime the positions would be vacant. Parkes was banking on the fact that it was in the Republican-controlled Senate's best interest to get things moving, especially in this election year when constituents were particularly observant of blatant attempts toward obstructionism.
The Senate Majority Leader, one of the three in Washington who knew that Harry Harrison was still alive, had promised Parkes the confirmations would go smoothly. And they would. That was all part of Operation Condor, after all.
Five days later Parkes had three new cabinet Secretaries.
Back on the island, Brian and Nicole commented at lunch how they wished they'd thrown in swimsuits, and an attendant appeared moments later, carrying two. "Hopefully these will fit. These were already here – our landlord apparently had thought of his guests' every need. There are a dozen other sizes if these don't work."
They swam for a while and then Nicole went inside for a nap while Brian did some work on the upcoming Vesuvius auction. He found it strange to be doing "normal" things on his laptop while he was sitting in the middle of what was undoubtedly the most complex and unsettling operation in history.
As cocktail hour approached, everyone gathered on the veranda as usual. Harry played backgammon with one of the crew members from Air Force One while a lively game of low-stakes Texas Hold'em was underway at a table by the pool. The players – two female flight attendants, the two pilots, two Secret Service agents and one former Vice President of the United States – whooped and protested as one of the ladies won nine dollars, the largest pot of the afternoon.
What strange bedfellows all this has created, Nicole thought with a smile as she watched the camaraderie.
Harry waved them over to a table where he and Jennifer sat with Harry's mother and dad. They were by the railing where it was quieter and breezier than where everyone else was.
"The usual?" asked the same steward who'd served them last night, and soon they were raising glasses in a toast.
All day long Fox News had been turned on but muted in the living room. Since there was nothing new to report about the missing airplanes, tonight's news was focused on one subject – the upcoming conventions. Just like everyone back home, the people on the island talked about how crazy things were. Brian wanted to ask Harry a question, but he was reluctant to bring it up. Fortunately Harry's father asked before he could.
Henry asked, "Do you figure all this will be over in time for you to step back in? How would the convention work if you came back into the picture?"
"I was just talking to Bob about that today." Harry had asked him to research a situation that had nev
er been considered. A candidate for the presidency had swept all early voting states and already had enough delegates to be the nominee. That candidate suddenly disappeared. He then miraculously reappeared before the convention. Could he step back in as though he had never left?
One reason for letting the chief justice in on Operation Condor had been to make certain that Harry wasn't officially declared deceased. That was key to Harry's eventual return. Even though Parkes had said Harry Harrison was dead, his words carried no legal weight. The chief justice had smoothed the way for Parkes to take Harry's place; that was all part of the plan.
There was no precedent for any of this, and Harry wanted to keep his options open while the CIA worked to expose Cham Parkes as the traitor he appeared to be. The highest judge in the land might be able to keep the issue – and the former President – legally alive sufficiently long for things to get back to normal.
Harry answered his father. "Dad, this has to be over before the convention. That's three months from now, and there's no way we can keep things quiet that long. Everything has to happen fast, and I'm planning to accept the nomination at the convention. You'll be there – all of you will!"
That was good news to everyone at the table. Harry sounded confident and upbeat, and they all needed that kind of optimism right now.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
"They're gone."
"What do you mean they're gone? Where are they?"
"They're simply not here, Mr. Hassan. The man who is in charge of Sadler's gallery in London is here, apparently running things in his boss's absence. I called for an appointment with Sadler, and I was told he was on a buying trip and he might be out for two weeks."
"And the girl?"
"She has a small law office – it's just her and one legal assistant – also a female, who said her boss is out of town. I asked for an appointment next week and she seemed unsure about when Miss Farber would be back."
Amin cursed loudly and slammed his fist on the desk in his dark office. "He's hidden them!"
Zarif knew when to back off. He usually was privy to just about everything, but this time he had no idea who was hiding them. Now didn't seem to be a good time to ask.
"What would you like me to do, sir?"
"Stay in Dallas until you hear from me."
Zarif had come in yesterday. Although a Syrian by birth, he was a naturalized citizen of the United Kingdom and he had a British passport. He therefore didn't need a visa to enter the US. He'd come through arrivals without incident and was staying in an apartment in a Dallas suburb called Plano. One of Amin's contacts, another Syrian in Dallas, had offered the flat. Zarif settled in. He'd watch TV and order in pizza until his boss gave him orders. He lit a cigarette and sat back on the couch to watch the latest Batman movie.
Six people were in the Oval Office, discussing North Korea's increasing tests of nuclear missiles. President Parkes listened, but as usual his mind was on other things. That new assistant he'd seen in the hall this morning was quite a beauty, he mused about a girl who could be his granddaughter. Maybe he'd invite her in for a private tour of the Oval Office. Worked for old Bill Clinton. That made him smile.
From across the room on his desk, his cellphone suddenly rang. He stood and said, "Keep talking. I'll be right back."
He saw the caller ID and hit decline. Just as he sat back down, the phone rang again.
He declined the call again and stuck the phone in his pocket. Twice more during the meeting it vibrated steadily, and twice more he ignored it.
When he was alone at last, he looked at the screen and saw a text. "Call me now."
Nobody gives me orders. Not even you. He sat back, lit a cigar and waited. It didn't take long.
When the phone rang again, he answered.
"What part of 'don't call me on this phone again' wasn't clear?"
Amin was livid. His Arab blood was boiling at the disrespect Parkes was demonstrating. He held his temper and kept his words even.
"What have you done with them?"
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"Brian Sadler and his girlfriend. Where are they?"
Parkes knew Brian Sadler's name. He was from Austin, just down the road from Dallas, and he'd met Nicole Farber once at an event hosted by Randall Carter, Nicole's former boss at the prestigious Dallas law firm.
Parkes was losing his temper too. "I don't know what you're talking about. How dare you accuse me of anything!"
"Are you playing games with me, Mister President?"
That was enough. "Goddammit, you stupid A-rab, pull your head out of your ass and listen to me. I don't know anything about Brian Sadler or his girlfriend. Now don't ever call me on this phone again. You hear?" He clicked the phone off.
As he lay in bed that evening, he heard the ding of an incoming text. He glanced at the phone. It was from that damned Amin Hassan. Son of a bitch!
Check your financial affairs closely.
He couldn't sleep after that. He wondered what the cryptic message meant. Not long after midnight something crept into his mind. What if the bastard . . . but no. He couldn't have done that. Could he?
Cham sat straight up in bed, turned on the light and grabbed his phone. His wife muttered groggily, "Is everything all right?"
"Go back to bed. I have to do something."
He entered a URL address. It was the website of a bank, but there was no other bank website like this one. There was no name, no advertising, no colorful home page, no offers of mortgages or CDs. There was simply a blank white screen with two boxes. He entered a user ID and password and went to a new page. This one displayed only a number, exactly as he expected. What he didn't expect was the number he saw. USD $1.00.
A nervous shiver went down his spine and he began to perspire as he entered everything once more. Was it a mistake? This simply couldn't be! With growing dread, he began to understand exactly what was going on here.
This afternoon his account had been $9,999,999 higher than it was now.
That bastard withdrew the ten million bucks he wired me. Amin had left a dollar so Cham would know exactly what happened.
He pulled on a robe, stuck the phone in his pocket, turned off the light and opened the bedroom door. The Secret Service agent in the hall jumped to attention, startled. It was nearly two and Parkes had never done this before.
"May I help you, Mr. President?"
"No," he snapped. "I can't sleep. You stay here. I'm capable of walking around by myself."
He went to the empty Lincoln bedroom down the hall, shut the door and turned on a floor lamp. He called Amin's number. It went straight to voicemail. As he listened to the message, Cham could almost feel Hassan's glee as he recorded it.
"Don't call me again on this phone."
"You slimy bastard," Parkes snarled out loud. "You son of a bitch! You're going to pay for this!"
There was no more sleep for the President that night. He tossed and turned, alternating between anger, fear and gritty determination. It was almost daybreak when he decided on a course of action. As rich and powerful as Amin Hassan was, he was no match against the President of the United States of America.
Cham was alone in his office the next morning when the cellphone rang. There would be no anger, no frustration and no fear on his side of the conversation today.
"What do you want?"
"I hope your investments are doing well."
"You've made a big mistake, Amin. I've got more money than I can use anyway. Yours was important because we made a deal. I promised to help you achieve a goal if you'd help me become President. The ten million was your idea, but I deserved it. You performed, and I'm already fulfilling my side of the bargain. Now you've reneged like a cheating weasel. Do you have weasels in your sand dune of a shithole country? I don't know how in hell you managed to get the money back out of my account, but it's immaterial now. The deal's off, my friend."
Amin didn't flinch and his voice never wavered. "That money I wir
ed you? Getting it back was simple. You chose an offshore bank that I happen to own! Wasn't that convenient?"
Parkes realized how simple it had been. Hassan merely instructed some bank manager to undo the wire transfer. What Amin did would be illegal as hell if the money weren't there illegally to start with, he reflected as Amin continued.
"The deal's not off. It's going to continue exactly as we planned it or everything you've ever worked for in your life will be gone in an instant. Don't trifle with me, Mister President. You have no idea who you're up against. Now, I'm going to ask you one last time where Brian Sadler is."
Parkes wasn't afraid. Amin needed him at this point more than the other way around. And as long as he got the ten million back, Cham was willing to finish the deal.
He said, "I have two things to say, so listen to me. First, I have no idea what you're talking about, and second, put the money back. Now. Today. Then and only then will our deal happen. If you don't do as I say, I'll unleash the full power of the United States government against you and your entire sleazy operation. I may go down too, but I damn sure promise you'll rot in prison for the rest of your life, and that'll be satisfaction enough for me, regardless of where I end up."
It took every ounce of restraint in Amin Hassan's body not to reply in kind. Finesse was the key word now. But Amin swore to Allah that Cham Parkes would pay with his life for disrespecting him. He spoke quietly and calmly.
"Of course. Anything for an old friend."
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Order of Succession Page 17
