Sandstorm (27 page)

He smiled. “I’m going to bed.”

“Listen, I should have never involved you in this. Coming to St. Thomas was a mistake. Washington, Brussels, and even here are one thing, but trekking through Iran on a whim with little or no backup is sheer madness.” Nora closed her eyes, hating herself at the moment. Once Alex made up his mind, there was no sense in trying to convince him otherwise. She pleadingly looked into his eyes. “Don’t do it. Don’t do it for me. I was wrong years ago, and I was wrong for seeking you out.”

“You might be dead if you didn’t, and on some level, if that had happened, I’d probably get involved anyway.” If Sara wasn’t in the room, Nora would have rushed into his arms and kissed him with all the passion they used to share. Instead, Alex turned for the bedroom, pausing at the door to reach into his pocket. He tossed Davis Lipton’s cell phone to Sara. “Apparently someone’s been burning up his phone with messages. Find out who it is, and if necessary, make an appropriate response. Don’t want any more complications at this juncture. Wake me up if there’s something important or if any Iranians come knocking at the door.”

CHAPTER
50

Champion caught Amanda Jergens in transit. He could hear the intermittent blasts of police sirens in the background. That, coupled with her guarded tone upon answering her cell phone, led him to one conclusion. She was part of the presidential motorcade.

Upon seeing the caller ID, she almost didn’t answer. Doing so meant apologizing and excusing herself from the ongoing conversation, interrupting the president in the process. The only reason she did answer was because of their lunch meeting from the other day.

She spoke just loudly enough to be heard, turning her head into the window and away from the rest of the occupants in the vehicle.

“This had better be good.” Despite being a whisper, her tone came across loud and clear to Champion.

“I told you I’d call when there was something to lose sleep over.”

She gave a reassuring smile to the commander in chief, who was mildly interested as he continued his discussion on economic matters.

“Does this concern any of the gentlemen we talked about the other day?”

“Yes, and as a result, there might be something in the works that needs drastic attention.”

Amanda didn’t like the sound of that. “Well, why don’t you make sure it gets in the PDB?”

Champion laughed for a moment. “No way can this go in the President’s Daily Brief. I need to see him tonight. One-on-one.”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
Why tonight? Why me?
It figured that, on what was supposed to be an uneventful agenda, things would get complicated under her watch. Her immediate boss, the White House chief of staff, felt the lax atmosphere was a good opportunity for her to spend time with the president. He reminded her that the most powerful man in the world had handpicked her all by himself. No small order on anybody’s political menu. Being seen at his side only increased her prominence in Washington. These jobs weren’t going to last forever. She also knew the chief of staff was relishing the opportunity to play Texas Hold ’em with certain congressmen from the Hill, all men who could bluff with the best of them.

Champion was in a similar situation. The spy stuff he could stomach. Dealing with flip-flopping, opportunistic, and partisan politicians was something he had yet to acquire a taste for. Nonetheless, after hanging up with Alex, he’d immediately gone to his boss’s office. Director Doyle had greeted him warmly, as always. As a mentor, he’d always been even keel with his protégé, passing along knowledge of not only how the world operated, but on Washington’s inner workings as well. It would’ve been easy for Doyle to pick up the phone and handle this matter, but he explained to Champion this was a perfect opportunity to impress the president. Champion mentioned that his only encounter with the White House’s newest resident had come when he’d been the president elect, and on that social evening, there’d been hundreds of hands to shake and certainly more-important faces and résumés to remember.

“So you’ll hit the ground running,” Doyle pointed out with a sly grin. “Of course, if you’re wrong and you screw this up … what was your major in college?”

Doyle was certain Champion would be the right person to succeed him. There’d be strong opposition for sure, and his confirmation hearing wouldn’t be a walk in the park. Doyle knew the biggest objection, sadly, would come from his demographic: a bunch of old fart politicians who didn’t relish the idea of giving such a high-profile job to a man in his forties. Never mind that Champion had done more to keep this country safe than they had ever accomplished on Capitol Hill while sitting on their butts.

Champion waited for Amanda to give him an answer. If she said no, he was prepared to go over her head. He prayed he didn’t have to go that route.

Amanda assessed the request and the evening’s itinerary. They were on their way to Woodrow Wilson Senior High School and, amazingly, on time for once. The president was to honor the school for its continued academic prowess and for the diversity of its student body. The school stood as a glowing example of the fact that when young people were determined and pointed in the right direction, a great deal could be accomplished. It was the perfect platform for the president to hit home his education agenda. Amanda felt she could make the meeting happen, but it all depended on how quickly Champion could get to the school. By her best judgment, making it from Langley would be pushing it at best, and no way in hell was she going to hold the president up. That went against everything the Secret Service had drilled into their heads. When in transit, follow procedure.

“George, how quickly can you get to—”

“Woodrow Wilson? I’m already here.”

Amanda pursed her lips until they were like prunes.

“I’m beginning to not like you.”

CHAPTER
51

After ending her phone conversation, Amanda tried to wait for an opening but was left with no choice except to interrupt the president. She spent several minutes explaining that an important member of the intelligence community needed to steal a few minutes with him at the school before he addressed the student body. When pressed what it was about, Amanda admitted she didn’t feel comfortable mentioning any specifics in front of the press secretary and the secretary of education. She promised it wouldn’t take much of his time, though that was a stretch, since she really had no idea what Champion was going to convey. In any event, she hoped her friend realized he was putting his career on the line. If this turned into a total waste of the president’s time, she would be reprimanded but still a part of the inner circle.

Once the president agreed, Amanda called ahead to the Secret Service detail and conveyed what had to happen. Champion had already identified himself, and after her call, the agents whisked him inside the school while searching for a secure location.

Because it had no windows and each exit could be guarded, the Secret Service settled on the cafeteria’s kitchen. After doing a quick sweep, they told Champion to stay put and left him in place, alone.

The kitchen was exceptionally sterile: white marble floors, white walls, and shiny stainless-steel appliances. Overhead fluorescent lights completed the environment. Outside the doors at each end of the kitchen, there was a Secret Service Agent posted. In the distant background, he could hear a muffled youthful assembly growing louder by the minute. He was isolated with his thoughts for roughly ten minutes, ample time to go over and over how he was going to present his case. It wasn’t lost on him that this was also, as Director Doyle pointed out, a golden opportunity to impress the man who, with any luck, would see fit to promote him in the near future. That was an unnerving thought in its own right, but in all truthfulness, he didn’t give a damn at the moment about becoming the next director of the Central Intelligence Agency. What concerned him was squashing those who were attempting to run their own unsanctioned endgame with US government assets.

He snapped to attention when the thunderous noise of the assembled masses came crashing through one of the kitchen doors when it swung open. A burly Secret Service agent came through first, shielding the people following directly behind him. He gave Champion an indifferent stare. If the need arose, he’d pull out his semiautomatic weapon and blast Champion into the next world while maintaining that same look. Satisfied, he stepped to the side.

Champion’s attention immediately focused on the familiar face of Amanda, who was revealed when the Secret Service agent peeled away. The look on her face was not that of an old friend who was happy to see him. Her pace was quick as she headed his way, and flanking her was President Travis Hudson. He was taller and thinner than Champion remembered. He could imagine there were a few square meals left unfinished as a result of constantly being on the go. Hudson had been in office just past a year, but the stress of the job hadn’t affected his fashion-model looks much. Pair that face with his eloquence and ability to rally people, and it was understandable why he was the man standing in the kitchen at this moment.

“Mr. President, this is George Champion.” Amanda had informed the president of Champion’s title while still in the sedan, where she had further explained the situation after the other occupants had departed upon arriving at the school. The president didn’t quite understand the urgency of the situation or the unorthodox circumstances. He had asked Amanda why this meeting couldn’t take place later at the White House. She had cursed her friend’s existence for about the seventh time when she had to admit she wasn’t clear why, only that Champion had stressed it was time sensitive.

“He
used to be
a friend of mine, sir,” Amanda added. “George, President Hudson.” They exchanged a firm handshake.

“Sir, thank you for seeing me,” Champion said, feeling every bit out of place.

Hudson nodded with a courteous smile. “We’ve met before. At a function in the District shortly after I became president elect.”

“That’s correct, sir.” Champion looked at Amanda for a second, wondering if she had fed him that tidbit or if his memory and powers of observation were that keen.

“Director Doyle and others speak highly of you. So, what’s on your mind?”

What ensued was an awkward moment as Champion shifted his attention to Amanda.

“What?” she demanded.

Champion couldn’t spare the time to be diplomatic. “If you don’t mind, I need you to leave right now.”

Amanda threw him another look, which told him he could add this move to the growing list of things there would be hell to pay for later.

“Fine!” Amanda said, making her way out. “I’ll be right outside, sir.”

Still not satisfied, Champion looked past the president at the lone Secret Service agent. Based solely on praise bestowed upon the man in front of him, President Hudson spoke over his shoulder. “Bob, give us a minute.” The secret serviceman’s demeanor didn’t waver as he slid through the door, leaving the two men alone.

“The kitchen is yours,” said the president. “What’s on the menu?”

“Sir, I believe Senator Bryce Lipton is engaged in unsanctioned activities that are outside the scope of our foreign policy and could very well place our global standing in grave jeopardy. He may have also been responsible for the death of a CIA agent.”

“Whew, you swing for the fences don’t you?” an astonished Hudson remarked.

“I don’t have the time to mince words, sir. In order to possibly prevent him and others from succeeding, I have to act now, but I need to know how far you’re willing to let me take this, if at all.”

The assembly crowd was getting impatient, and chants of “We want Hudson” echoed down the hallways. It would continue a while longer as the president gave Champion another five minutes before deciding they would discuss this at length at the White House later.

In the interim, the president gave Champion the green light to do what was necessary. As he headed for his awaiting fan club, President Hudson couldn’t help but be impressed by the man from the CIA.

CHAPTER
52

The voices were faint, but the conversation was spirited and lively.

Alex sat up in bed, waiting for his body to finish its assessment. There were no aches, pains, or headaches. According to the bedside clock, he’d slept for four hours. He wondered how long they’d been going at it in the other room. There was at least coffee, its aroma motivating him to get moving.

He threw water on his face, put on a hotel robe, and headed for the coffee. His arrival halted all conversation. Looking back at him with blank stares were Nora and Duncan. They were seated around two tables pulled together. Papers and maps cluttered the surface. There was a box on one of the other chairs, and it too was full.

“I take it we had a delivery?” Alex asked while pouring a cup of coffee.

“Local office by way of Langley,” Nora confirmed, a trace of friction in her voice. “Your new ID documents are here too.”

“That was fast.”

“Some things have changed during your absence. They’re still building your background, though, filling in every gap that comes to mind.”

Alex picked up on Duncan watching his every move. “What?” Alex demanded.

Duncan chuckled and spread his hands over the contents on the table. “Have you lost your
F
-in’ mind? Houdini couldn’t pull this off.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “So, what do we have here?”

“He’s right, you know,” Nora chimed in. “There’s way too much that can go wrong.”

Alex took a seat at the table. “I’m excited, because according to Janko, we might be getting some sort of recognition. It would be rude to just blow it off.”

Nora bit her lip, and Duncan shook his head. In the final analysis, if Alex concluded he couldn’t pull this off, he’d say so and shut it down. He didn’t owe anybody anything, least of all his government, and Nora had told him he’d already done everything she’d hoped for.