FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 20, 8:20 P.M.
OUTSIDE THE PRESIDENTIAL PALACE
Chad jumped out of the van and stared in disbelief at the black-and-gray smoke billowing from the president’s car. A sick feeling washed over him. All their efforts to save the president had just blown up with one well-timed explosive device.
Natalie stumbled beside him, and he tightened his grip on her forearm.
“Stephen lied to us.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “And now the president’s dead.”
Paul shouted into his walkie-talkie to the marines who were still on the third floor of the palace. “I want a play-by-play from your position of what’s happening on the lawn. Once you see us drive in, get down there as fast as you can. I’ve got UN troops on standby that I’m calling in now. Everyone else, let’s go.”
Chad helped Natalie back into the van, then jumped in behind her and slammed the door as the driver started the engine. Centrifugal force slammed them against the side of the van as the driver spun around and headed for the palace. Paul signaled to the driver to stop at the security gate, where he flashed his identification at the guard. After an intense minute of arguing, the man finally opened the gate.
Chad stared ahead at the smoldering car that sat on the other side
of the drive. Stephen had played them all by sending them on a wild goose chase.
In the lights of the entrance, he caught Natalie’s glazed look and squeezed her hand. “You okay?”
“Yeah. I’m just ready for this to be over.”
When the van stopped, he jumped out, then quickly covered his mouth with his sleeve. Smoke poured from the vehicle, obscuring those who’d been injured from the impact of the explosion. The charred vehicle was completely destroyed and had clearly left no survivors.
A quick assessment of the grounds revealed complete chaos. They’d be lucky if they didn’t find more casualties among the injured. Guests ran across the grass toward the front gates, apparently afraid another bomb might detonate. When all this was over, they were going to have more to deal with than just the physical wounds. In this situation neither position nor status mattered; trauma would affect all of them.
Paul barked out orders to the marines on the ground, then turned to Chad. “I need you to deal with the injured. I’ll try and see if there are any other doctors here.”
“I’m on it.”
Chad knelt down beside a man in a three-piece suit with burn marks on his face. Natalie and one of the marines crouched down beside him.
“What can we do to help?” Natalie asked.
“We need to treat the more serious patients first, which is primarily going to be burn victims and those hit with shrapnel. See if you can find some room-temperature bottled water and pass it out to any of the responsive victims. They need to use it to flush any burns and then drink the rest to ensure they stay hydrated, which can be a concern with burns. Get whoever you can to help you, because I’ll be sending you more victims.”
He pointed to a clear area a good twenty-five feet from the blast
sight and addressed the marine as he moved onto the next patient. “We need to get these injured people away from here in case there’s another explosion. Anyone who is injured but still able to get up needs to go with you there. I’ll deal with those who can’t move.”
While he didn’t expect chemical or biological agents to be involved, he wasn’t taking any chances. Even without them, there would still be large quantities of particulates in the air.
“Excuse me, sir?”
Chad looked up from a twentysomething-year-old in front of him who was having trouble breathing to see one of the uniformed presidential guards. Maybe Paul had managed to find a medic. “Do you have medical experience?”
“No. I need you to leave the grounds immediately. I have orders to secure the scene and remove all nonessential personnel from the premises.”
“You’ve got to be kidding. I’m a doctor and I’m treating this woman.”
“General Dumasi is in charge of this situation now, which means you and the marines need to leave immediately.”
Chad ignored the man as he unclasped the woman’s bracelet from around her wrist in case of swelling. Bureaucracy was bad enough here on a good day. He wasn’t leaving these people behind because of some general’s lust for power.
“Sir, I’m asking you to leave now. If you don’t, I’ll be forced to place you under arrest.”
“You just don’t get it, do you?” Chad stood to face the man, using the six inches he towered over him to his advantage. “There’s got to be at least two dozen people here who were just injured in a blast that killed your president. I’m not leaving until I know everyone has been taken care of.”
The guard reached for Chad’s arm, but Chad jerked away before he could grasp it. “Don’t even try it.”
Paul appeared from behind the man. “What’s going on?”
“Apparently Stephen was telling the truth about one thing.” Chad spoke above the growing clatter. “General Dumasi thinks he’s in charge now and doesn’t want our help.”
A UN-marked helicopter whirled above them, drowning out any further arguments as it prepared to land on the palace grounds.
Chad went back to work on the woman while Paul dealt with the guard. “We’re dealing with dozens of foreign delegates and other government officials here, and I can promise that you don’t want to see your face splattered in newspapers all over the world as the one responsible for their deaths.”
“I’m under strict orders to—”
“I don’t care what your orders are.” Paul stood his ground. “We’re going to care for the injured and evacuate as many of the delegates as we can by air and get them somewhere safe.”
A UN officer dressed in fatigues and a blue helmet jumped from the helicopter as the rotor blades began to slow. With the guard seemingly put in his place, Paul hurried off to coordinate the evacuation.
A car door banged shut behind them and Chad glanced over. At first he focused on Natalie, who was walking toward him. Then his attention shifted beyond her to the car directly behind the charred vehicle.
President Tau stood beside the car looking dazed.
Chad blinked his eyes and shook his head. It couldn’t be the president. He was dead.
Natalie caught his shocked expression and looked behind her.
Someone shouted.
Chad hollered for Paul, then darted toward the car with Natalie right behind him. They had to get the president to safety.
President Tau slumped against the car.
Chad heard the shot a split second before the president dropped to the ground. Adrenalin surged through his body and he shifted toward Natalie. There was a sniper and she stood less than ten feet from the president. “Natalie, get down!”
He pushed her to the ground, then ran for the car. Several shots rang out as the marines sighted the sniper and opened fire.
Ignoring the danger, Chad dropped to his knees to examine the president, who was still conscious. His unexpected move as the shooter took aim had probably saved his life. “My name is Dr. Talcott. I’m here to help.”
“It’s my leg.”
“I want you to lie still so I can evaluate the extent of your injury.”
Chad ripped off the pant leg and found where the bullet had lodged. He pulled off his shirt and tore off a strip. Using it as a bandage, he pressed it firmly against the wound.
“Are you hurt anywhere else, sir?”
The burly leader shook his head and attempted to sit up.
Chad pressed gently against the man’s shoulder. “Not yet. I’m going to see that you get out of here as soon as possible, but until then I need you to lie still and relax.”
Keeping pressure on the wound, he studied the sloping grounds that led up toward the palace, where shadows played against the walls from the outside lights. His breath caught. The marines had taken down the shooter and were now leading him across the lawn.
Patrick.
Paul appeared above Chad. There’d be time to absorb the implications later. “How is he?”
“Lucky,” Chad said. “The bullet went through his leg. He’s lost a lot of blood, but he’ll live if we can get him out of here.”
Paul called over two of the UN soldiers. “As soon as you’ve got him stabilized, Chad, I want him on that helicopter.”
Five minutes later, Chad watched as the two men carried the president to safety. He then took a quick look inside the car the president had been in, but it was empty.
Natalie stepped up behind him. “We’ve passed out all the water, and those who are able to are helping to dress wounds. Three were
killed when the bomb exploded, but all other injuries appear to be only burns and shrapnel wounds. It was a miracle that it wasn’t—”
She stopped midsentence.
Chad ran his hand down his arm. “You okay?”
“I don’t know.”
He followed her gaze to the charred vehicle. “What is it?”
“I haven’t had time to stop and figure out what happened until now. Stephen said he was driving the president’s car, which was supposed to be the third car.”
“And the third car is the vehicle that exploded.”
“But the president wasn’t in the third car.”
She was right. He hadn’t had time to examine the situation closely either, but the president had obviously not come from the third car. He’d come out of the car behind it.
“What if Patrick had planned to take them both out at once, but in the confusion of the crowd the president got into the wrong car?” he asked.
“But if that’s true, where’s the driver of this car? And where is Stephen?”
“I don’t know, Natalie.”
Chad walked to the smoldering car, fearing what he was going to find. The backseat was empty, but in the driver’s seat sat a charred body.
SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 21, 7:46 A.M. EST
NORTH BETHESDA, MARYLAND
Gabby pulled off her tennis shoe and rubbed the heel of her foot. She’d have preferred a run in the quiet neighborhood, but had decided it was a risk she wasn’t going to take. The dusty treadmill had been the next best thing.
Sabrina entered the living room, still clad in her favorite plaid flannel pajamas. “Don’t you think it’s a bit early—and cold for that matter—to be exercising?”
“Nope.” Gabby placed her hands on her hips and shot her friend a grin. “Forty-five minutes on the treadmill, and I’m a new person.”
“You know I hate mornings. Especially early mornings.” Sabrina picked up the bowl of popcorn from the movie she’d watched last night with Michael and chomped down on a popped kernel. “How are you feeling?”
Gabby pulled off her other shoe. “Are you referring to my sprained wrist, the scrapes across my shins, or the cut on my head?”
“I think it’s time you took up another career.”
Her cell phone interrupted their conversation. She turned down the music on the stereo and answered the call. “Gabby Mackenzie speaking.”
“Miss Mackenzie, this is Mickey Chandler. I just wanted to call and see how you were feeling.”
Gabby gaze focused on the candles sitting on the stone hearth. How quickly was one supposed to recover from being carjacked, threatened, and almost kidnapped in the scope of one week? She’d yet to find a rulebook on that one.
She pressed her lips together. “I’ve still got some scrapes and scratches, and a few nightmares, but I’m going to be all right. Still trying to convince my mother that she doesn’t need to hire a bodyguard for me.”
“She may not have to.”
Gabby’s journalistic instincts kicked in. “What do you mean?”
“A lot of the information you passed on was able to help solidify the government’s case against Alexis Yasin. He was arrested last night for money laundering, attempted murder, and alleged terrorist ties, to name a few. ”
“Wow. That’s wonderful.” Gabby sat down on the couch, drawing one of the loose cushions into her lap. Maybe his arrest would be the start of freedom for many. “I have to say, I’m going to sleep better tonight.”
Mr. Chandler cleared his throat. “There’s another reason I called. I thought you might like to know that U.S. troops found the first occupied slave camp in the RD this morning.”
Gabby scrambled for the notepad she kept on the end table and started scribbling notes. “Where?”
“About 350 miles west of the capital. They’re going to need someone to tell their story. I thought you’d be the perfect person. If you can get to Bogama, I’ll personally arrange transport to the site for you in one of our military helicopters.”
Gabby dropped her pen. “I don’t know what to say.”
“After reading your articles, I believe you have plenty to say. Don’t let anyone stop you from telling the truth.”
“I won’t, sir. That I can promise you.”
Gabby hung up the phone, her mind spinning with all the details of what he’d proposed. She had her passport and visas. If she left today, she could be in Bogama tomorrow night.
“Gabby?” Sabrina plopped down on the couch beside her. “What’s going on?”
Gabby pulled up her knees beneath her. “That was Mickey Chandler with Interpol. I’m going back to Africa.”
MONDAY, NOVEMBER 23, 9:17 A.M.
KALAMBALI SQUARE, KASILI
Chad started to knock on the door of Natalie’s office, then paused. She sat at her computer, completely absorbed in whatever she was doing. She’d pulled back her hair with a clip, leaving a few stray wisps around her neck that fluttered in the breeze from the ceiling fan. The sleeve of the red T-shirt she wore only covered half of the bandage on her shoulder—a blunt reminder of everything they’d been through the past week. He’d been amazed at how well she’d held up the past three days, enduring hours of interviews as both the UN and the Dhambizan government worked together to sort through what had happened. And what the future of this country held.
He rapped lightly on the door frame. “Hey. Are you about ready to go? Joseph’s waiting for us.”
Without looking up, she held up her hand for him to wait. “Give me another second or two.”
He stepped into the tiny office where she’d managed to add a few personal items to transform the space into something both functional and warm. His gaze stopped at the collage of photos hanging above her desk. Paris, Egypt, England, Rwanda, Brazil…He hadn’t realized she’d visited so many places. Which was only one of the dozens of things he still wanted to learn about her.
She swirled around in her chair and shot him an apologetic look. “Sorry.”
“You’re not supposed to be working today.” He sat down across from her in the other chair. Because of the tight quarters, they were so close that their knees touched. Not that he was complaining. He leaned forward and squeezed her leg. “How are you feeling?”
She pulled the clip from her hair and ruffled the back before securing it again. “Besides trying to endure this heat wave?”
“Yeah. Besides the heat.”
“Well, thanks to the sleeping pills you prescribed, I’m feeling pretty rested. And I have to admit that it was good to be back home in my own bed last night even though I have a mountain of work to do to get everything cleaned up from the break-in. I just wish…I don’t know.” She started playing with the edge of a chipped fingernail. “Paul called me a little bit ago and told me that the police have confirmed that it was Stephen’s body found in the bombed vehicle.”
He reached for her hands and held them between his. “I’m so sorry. I know that while it doesn’t come as a surprise, that’s not what you wanted to hear, either.”
“I guess I kept hoping that somehow there had been a mistake.” Natalie pulled away from him and turned back to her computer. “And there’s something else, Chad.”
She held up an envelope while he scooted his chair beside her. “I received a letter this morning. He must have put it in the post last Friday afternoon.”
Chad tensed. “What does it say?”
“There are letters he wanted me to give to his wife and daughters if anything happened to him. I know it won’t change anything, but I’m hoping it will help.”
“So he had this planned all along?”
She nodded.
“So his death wasn’t an accident?”
“No, and I guess he wanted me to know that once it was all over.
When he found out about the car bomb, he didn’t know how to stop it, because Patrick was keeping a close watch on him. He decided that the only way to save the president was to ensure that the president wasn’t in the car. It was crowded that night, and he bribed the man assigned to drive the president to switch to the fourth car. It was a gamble, I suppose, but since President Tau was used to simply following the guard into the vehicle, he didn’t question anything. I’m sure Patrick was counting on that.”
“And then Stephen drove the car with the bomb.”
“Exactly. He was assigned to drive one of the decoy cars, making the switch even easier.”
“So he was trying to make up for the mistakes in his past?”
“And apparently he made a lot of them. He bought the house in Switzerland with money skimmed off the books from aid organizations. I guess he’s been doing it for years, but until lately he was too afraid to spend it.”
“So that’s how he bribed the driver?”
“Yes, and for him, this was the only way he thought he could finally be at peace. I guess he lied to us that night because he didn’t want to take a chance of anything going wrong.”
Chad tapped his fingers on the desk. “Paul’s going to need to see these.”
“I know. I’m planning to send him copies right away.” She turned toward him. “The only good thing about all of this is that his letters bring about some closure. He might have made a lot of mistakes, but at least I don’t have to wonder anymore which side he was playing on. He did what he thought he had to do to save the president.”
“And he did save him, Natalie. Which in turn helped stop what could have been a horrid civil war.”
A lone tear rolled down her cheek. “But we could have found another way to stop it without him dying.”
“Maybe for him, that’s what he had to do. On the bright side, they’ve arrested Patrick, as well as General Dumasi, who allegedly
was being backed financially by Yasin so that he could take over the country during the upcoming elections.” He drew out a low whistle. “There’s nothing like a few hundred million dollars worth of natural resources as motivation.”
“Which means that this won’t be the end of trouble for this country.”
“At least the UN is claiming Tau’s victory was fair. Other than a few angry protestors, things have been fairly quiet.”
“And that’s not the only good news. The helicopter will be here in five minutes. Do you think you can make it?”
Natalie’s smile reached inside his heart and tugged. “You know I wouldn’t miss this for anything.”