file?'
'No.'
'Lastly, can we live with his demands?'
'We're going to—sorry to break the rules.'
'I see,' said the astonished director of Special Projects. 'You will explain that extraordinary and extraordinarily insubordinate statement to me, won't you?'
'We'll talk later.' Khalehla hung up the phone and turned to Varak. 'My superior's upset.'
'With you or with me? It wasn't difficult to imagine the gist of his questions.'
'With both of us.'
'Is he really your uncle?'
'I've known him for over twenty years and that's enough about him. Let's talk about you for a moment. It wasn't difficult to imagine a couple of his questions to you, either.'
'Only a moment, please,' insisted the Czech. 'I really must leave.'
'You told him that Grinell was with the Vanvlanderen woman and that the others were Grinell's guards.'
'I did.'
'Yet you told me that there were two men in the Vanvlanderen suite and that the guards were outside.'
That's true.'
'Who was that other man, and why are you protecting him?'
'Protecting? … I believe I also told you that they were both traitors. You'll hear that on the tapes, read it on the transcripts I'll deliver to you if your superior agrees to my conditions, as you have agreed.'
'I'll convince him.'
'Then you'll hear for yourself.'
'But you know him! Who is he?'
Varak got out of the chair, his hands pressed in front of him. 'Again, we are off limits, Miss Rashad. But I'll tell you this much. He's the reason I must leave. He's human filth, whatever words you care to use… and he's mine. I'll scour this city all night until I find him, and if I don't, I know where I can find him, tomorrow or the next day. I repeat, he's mine.'
'A jaremat thaar, Mr. Milos?'
'I do not speak Arabic, Miss Rashad.'
'But you know what it means, I've told you.'
'Good night,' said the Czech, going to the door.
'My uncle wants to know how you got the Oman file. I don't think he'll stop hunting you down until he finds out.'
'We all have our priorities,' said Varak, turning, his hand on the knob. 'Right now his and yours are in San Diego and mine are elsewhere. Tell him that he has nothing to fear from my source. He would go to his grave before endangering one of your people, one of our people.'
'Goddamn you, he already has! Evan Kendrick!' The telephone rang; they both whipped their heads around, staring at it. Khalehla picked it up. 'Yes?'
'It happened!’ cried Payton in Langley, Virginia. 'Oh, my God, they did it!'
'What is it?'
'The Larnaca Hotel in Cyprus! The west wing was blown up; there's nothing left, just debris. The Secretary of State's dead, they're all dead!'
'The hotel in Cyprus,' repeated Khalehla, looking at the Czech, her voice a frightened monotone. 'It was blown up, the Secretary's dead, they're all dead…'
'Give me that phone!' roared Varak, rushing across the room and grabbing it. 'Did no one check the cellars, the air conditioning ducts, the structural underpinnings?'
'The Cypriot security forces claimed they checked
