Then they turned and headed in opposite directions toward the sides of the house. The unusual movement caught Stroble’s attention, and then without warning bright flood lamps illuminated the tree lines to the north and south of Arthur’s estate. Stroble leapt down from the tree and started running as quietly as possible for the water. He whispered into his mike, “I think they may have seen me, over.” Coleman and O’Rourke instantly
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crept backward when the lights came on and were huddling on the other side of the roof.
Coleman asked, “Hermes, where are you, over?”
“I’m making my way toward the cliff, over.”
“Roger, Hermes, stand by at the cliff and wait for Cyclops, over.
Cyclops, I need some intel.
What’s going on, over?”
“I’ve got both guards and their dogs working their way down the fence line towards the water. They are looking in the trees, but neither of them have their weapons drawn. It appears that they’re doing some kind of sweep, over.”
“Do you still have good concealment, over?”
“That’s affirmative, over.”
“All right, you are going to have to give us the play-by-play because we can’t see anything, over.”
“Don’t move or make any noise. The guard and the dog on the south side are coming up on your position. I have him in my sights.” Hackett kept his voice below a whisper.
“Good. Zeus, they are looking over the edge of the cliff down at the water The guard closest to you just said something into his mike and is heading back to the house.”
Without warning, all of the floodlights were extinguished and darkness returned to the landscape. “What in the hell was that all about?” asked Michael.
“I don’t know,” whispered Coleman. “Everyone sit tight for a couple minutes and see what happens next. Don’t talk unless something develops, over.” Coleman and Michael crawled back to the crest of the roof and looked over the fence. Less than a minute later
Hackett broke the silence. “I think I hear a car pulling up the driveway.”
NANCE STEPPED OUT OF THE BACKSEAT OF HIS LIMO AND HELD HIS
ARMS straight out.
A guard approached and waved a sensor over his body. After he was done, the guard spoke into his shoulder mike, telling the controller inside the house that Arthur’s guest was clean. Nance’s bodyguard and driver waited by the car while the national security adviser was escorted into the house. When he entered the study, he found Arthur in his usual spot, waiting by the fireplace. Nance strode across the room and stopped a short distance away. Arthur’s lips showed the faintest hint of a smile and he said, “I hope you don’t mind standing. I’ve been sitting all day.”
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“No, not at all.”
“Good. What is of such importance that you needed to come see me in person?”
“You will have to be the judge. I just wanted to keep you abreast of some developments.” Nance shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
“Yesterday morning, Special Agent McMahon of the FBI received a phone call from the terrorists claiming that they had nothing to do with the killing of Olson and
Turnquist.”
“Really.” Arthur pursed his lips. “I expected them to go to the media with the story, not the FBI.”
“So did I. Does this worry you?” Arthur slapped the question away with the wave of a hand. “No, not really.
Nothing can be traced back to us. No one other than you, Garret, and myself know who was behind those murders. The people we used were hired very discreetly. They made no contact with anyone. They picked up an envelope that contained Olson’s and
Turnquist’s names and an account number at a very discreet bank in the Caymans. Even if the FBI were to catch the assassins, they wouldn’t be able to trace it back to us.”
“Unless one of us talked.” Arthur stared at Nance with sharp eyes.
“We both know that neither you nor I would speak to the FBI, so I would have to assume you are referring to Mr. Garret.”
“Yes.” Arthur exhaled an even, long breath. “What has he done now?”
“He has a hard time hiding his emotions. During the briefing yesterday, when
McMahon played the tape of his conversation with the assassin, Mr. Garret became very nervous and animated.”
“I don’t see that as being a problem. Nervous and animated fits his normal profile.”
Nance sighed. It was often tiring trying to convince Arthur of something. “While the taped conversation was being played, he broke out in a sweat and would not stop staring at me. He looked uncharacteristically nervous and afraid.”
