Matt grabbed his pea coat, stepped out of the small computer cubicle and froze. Two policemen were standing in the doorway of the cafe. Young Aubrey was pointing in his direction. “Metro Police, stay right where you are.” A tall black policeman put his hand on his weapon.
Matt pushed hard on the top of his cubicle, sending it crashing to the floor then raced down the rows to a rear door. Don’t be locked! He reached the rear door but it wouldn’t budge. Frantically looking up he saw a slide bolt at the top and threw it. Outside, he ripped off his pea coat and threaded one of the bulky arms through the two handles of the double door and tied a thick knot with the two sleeves. He ran toward the end of the alley. Loud kicking came from the cafe door.
As he turned onto 18 ^th Street an empty taxi cruised by. Matt whistled loudly, waving his arms. The taxi stopped on the other side of the street. Matt raced across the street and yanked open the door. “My wife’s been in a traffic accident. She’s at a hospital in Georgetown. I’m so scared I can’t remember which one. You must know. Just get me there quickly.” He shoved a $100 bill through the slot in the thick Plexiglas security enclosure. The taxi driver, an Indian by his accent and high-pitched voice, floored his vehicle. Matt looked back to see the two policemen emerge onto the street. One pointed at the retreating taxi. The cab slid around the corner and they were lost from view.
Matt made a gagging noise in the back seat. “I’m going to vomit,” he yelled. “Stop the cab, I feel sick.” The taxi driver looked back in disgust. He stopped the cab next to the Dupont Circle Metro station. Matt doubled over and moaned then burst out of the taxi and sprinted down the steps into the Metro station.
The taxi driver stared for a few moments, checked the back seat to see if there was any puke, then fingered the $100 bill and slowly drove away. “Crazy Americans.”
The Oval Office
“The Israeli ambassador is here to see you, Mr. President.”
“Thank you, Miriam.” President Pierce flipped the switch and picked up his tin cup, rolling it back and forth between his hands.
“I am honored to be invited to the Oval Office, Mr. President.” Ibrahim Barak was a short stocky man with a rugged and suntanned face. He stood at attention. His years of desert fighting and covert operations gave him a strength of character his more political colleagues lacked. “The Prime Minister of Israel sends his personal greetings.”
“Thank you, Mr. Ambassador.”
“Please call me Ibrahim, Mr. President. It would be an honor.”
“Certainly. Would you like some coffee, Ibrahim? Or perhaps something stronger? Please, you can sit here, in front of the tape recorder.” The President pressed the buzzer on his desk. A discrete side door opened.
Barak watched as Senator Mason Stevens and William Fisher entered. He looked directly at the President then at the man escorting the others.
“I’m certain you recognize Mr. Howard Duncan, Director of the FBI.”
General Barak nodded. He waited, a film of perspiration forming on his forehead.
After everyone was seated the President continued. “Mr. Ambassador, you were accepted onto United States soil as a representative of the sovereign nation of Israel. As such you are free to remain in this country as long as you obey the laws of our great nation.”
“Mr. President, I must protest…”
“When did your patriotism get twisted and corrupted, Ibrahim?”
Barak stood up. “With all due respect, Mr. President…”
“Sit down, you pathetic asshole. If you want to leave this room be may guest. However the FBI and Secret Service will welcome you with open arms. You’ve broken just about every law of diplomacy on the books.”
Ambassador Barak sat down. “I am an Israeli citizen. I am my nation’s ambassador to the United States of America. I have diplomatic immunity.”
“At this moment you’ve got squat. Take a look at the pathetic men beside you. Senator Mason T. Stevens for instance. What do you think he had to say about you and your espionage activities?”
Barak blanched. “You have no evidence against me or the nation of Israel.”
President Pierce slowly raised his tin cup then slammed it down on the Resolute desk. “Look you sorry sonofabitch. I know all about your sordid dealings with the Senator here. Bribery and extortion are serious crimes in this country.”
The former Israeli army officer again stood up, slowly and in control. “I am an Israeli citizen and my nation’s ambassador to the United States. I have diplomatic immunity. I don’t know what kind of game you are playing but I will be leaving now and returning to my embassy at once.”
“You will do no such thing.” President Pierce watched him. “You’re going to cooperate and I mean fully.”
Barak hesitated then sat down.
“Now we know all about your relationship with Senator Stevens here. Like I said, bribery and extortion of a U.S. senator is a serious crime in this country. We also know of your illegal intelligence-gathering operations, partly through Senator Stevens who is a member of my Special Advisory Council on Terrorism and the Middle East. Then there’s your close association with an internationally known contract assassin wanted in connection with the murder of Dr. Martin J. Thomas.”
The general’s eyes went cold. “Are you trying to frame me for the death of Dr. Thomas? I had nothing to do with that. You’re putting two and two together and coming up with a number that fits your needs. I’d say the guilty party here is Senator Stevens.”
Mason Stevens’ face turned beet red. “Why you sonofabitch…”
“Take it easy, both of you,” the FBI Director said.
“We were only trying to help the United States track down a deep cover terrorist cell. Israel was actually trying to protect your country.” Barak replied. “Maybe we did go a little overboard in our efforts but we were trying to save our two great nations from the fanatical and perverted terrorists who threaten world peace.”
William Fisher’s words were cold in the silence. “Is that what you were thinking when you shot my wife at point blank range in the Chatilla refugee camp in 1982?” Director Duncan stepped behind Fisher. “You called her a whore of the Palestinians then killed her in cold blood and never even flinched. One day when you’re least expecting it, General, I will shoot you in the face.” Howard Duncan put his hands on Fisher’s shaking shoulders. “What is it you say? An eye for an eye?”
“I am not on trial here,” Barak said evenly. “Military actions of the State of Israel are none of your business. Now what do you want from me?”
“Information, Mr. Ambassador,” President Pierce said as he walked across the room and stood directly in front of the Israeli ambassador. “I want to know about your unofficial meetings and dealings with the international arms dealer Mohammed al Nagib. Mr. Fisher here has given us his version now I want your side of the story. You are aware, aren’t you, Mr. Ambassador, that Mohammed al Nagib recruited, organized and personally ran the same deep cover terrorist cell you say you were trying to locate?”
Ibrahim Barak looked ill. “Oh, God.”
“Looks like you’ve been set up and double crossed, Ibrahim.”
Dr. Melikian’s Office
“Hello? This is Dr. Margaret Khalid calling on behalf of Dr. Melikian, the President’s physician. May I speak to Miriam, President Pierce’s personal secretary? It’s very important. Dr. Melikian needs to see him right away. Yes of course, I’ll wait.” Glancing up from her desk to make certain her office door was locked, Maggie Khalid took a few deep breaths to calm her racing heart.
“Hello Miriam, this is Dr. Margaret Khalid calling from Dr. Melikian’s office. The doctor has found something that concerns him in the President’s last blood test. An abnormal high prostate specific antigen count.” She heard a gasp on the other end of the line. “Yes, well, since the doctor is attending the White House dinner this evening for the Crown Prince of Saudi Arabia he wondered if he could come a few minutes early and take another blood sample
