'I doubt it. Frank Swann's a bastard, but I don't think he could be fooled that way. Someone like Bryce is the first person you'd think of, and if he's smart enough to run that kind of operation, he knows it. He also knows he could face thirty years in Leavenworth.'
Evan smiled. 'I understand Dennison threatened you with five years there.'
'I told him it was a men's prison,' said Adrienne, responding with a grin.
'So did I,' said Kendrick, laughing.
'So then I said if he had any more goodies in store for me, I wouldn't get in Cleopatra's barge, never mind the government car.'
'Why did you get in?'
'Sheer curiosity. It's the only answer I can give you.'
'I accept it… So where are we? The seven are out and a blond European is in.'
'I don't know.' Suddenly Rashad touched his arm again. 'I've got to ask you some questions, Evan—’
'Evan? Thank you.'
'I'm sorry. Congressman. That was a slip.'
'Don't be, please. I think we're entitled to first names.'
'Now you stop—’
'But do you mind if I call you Khalehla? I'm more comfortable with it.'
'So am I. The Arab part of me has always resented the deniability of Adrienne.'
'Ask your questions—Khalehla.'
'At least you're not pronouncing it “Cawleyla”… All right. When did you decide to come to Masqat? Considering the circumstances and what you were able to do, you were late getting there.'
Kendrick took a deep breath. 'I'd been riding the rapids in Arizona when I reached a base camp called Lava Falls and heard a radio for the first time in several weeks. I knew I had to get to Washington…' Evan recounted the details of those frantic eight hours going from a comparatively primitive campsite in the mountains to the halls of the State Department and finally down to the sophisticated computer complex that was OHIO-Four-Zero. 'That's where Swann and I made our agreement and I was off and running.'
'Let's go back a minute,' said Khalehla, only at that moment taking her eyes off Kendrick's face. 'You hired a river plane to take you to Flagstaff, where you tried to charter a jet to DC, is that right?'
'Yes, but the charter desk said it was too late.'
'You were anxious,' suggested the field agent. 'Probably angry. You must have thrown your weight around a bit. A congressman from the great state of Colorado, et cetera.'
'More than a bit—and lots more of the et cetera.'
'You reached Phoenix and got the first commercial flight out. How did you pay for your ticket?'
'Credit card.'
'Bad form,' said Khalehla, 'but you had no reason to think so. How did you know whom to reach at the State Department?'
'I didn't, but remember I'd worked in Oman and the Emirates for years, so I knew the sort of person I wanted to find. And since I had inherited an experienced DC secretary who had the instincts of an alley cat, I told her what to look for. I made it clear that it would undoubtedly be someone in the State's Consular Operations, Middle East or Southwest Asia sections. Most Americans who've worked over there are familiar with those people—frequently up to their teeth.'
'So this secretary with the instincts of an alley cat began calling around asking questions. That must have raised a few eyebrows. Did she keep a list of whom she called?'
'I don't know. I never asked her. Everything was kind of frantic and I kept in touch with her on one of those air-to-ground phones during the flight from Phoenix. By the time I landed she had narrowed the possibilities down to four or five men, but only one was considered an expert on the Emirates and he was also a deputy director of Cons Op. Frank Swann.'
