The room seemed to shrink.
“I repeat, Captain. What do you mean?” the major asked.
“We wouldn’t be in this situation if it hadn’t been for what happened to me in Cancun and then in Fort Lauderdale. The operation wouldn’t be threatened if I was out of the way. That wasn’t a mugger who stabbed me last night. It was someone working for you.”
“That’s absurd,” the captain said.
“Using a street weapon so it wouldn’t look like a professional hit. Because of the knife, I didn’t figure it out right away. No reputable assassin would ever use a blade. Compared to a bullet, it’s too uncertain. For that matter, too risky, because you have to get right next to your target. But then I realized that what looked like an amateur killing would be a perfect cover for a professional one. Bailey, the Doyles, me. We’d all be dead. A suspicious coincidence, yes. But each of the deaths would be explainable without any need to drag in a conspiracy theory. And if the reporter had a car accident. .”
Everyone became very still.
“All because of the photographs,” Buchanan said. “The ones that showed you, Major, and you, Captain, and more important, the colonel with me on the yacht in Fort Lauderdale. For me to be exposed wasn’t a problem. You knew I’d never implicate anyone. But for you two to have your photograph on the front page of the
The group seemed frozen.
Finally, the major cleared his throat, then looked awkwardly at the woman and finally Alan.
“Come on,” Buchanan said. “We’ve got a problem. Let’s discuss it.”
“Captain, do you realize what you sound like?” the major asked, uneasy.
“Direct.”
“Try
“Fine,” Buchanan said. “Nobody ordered my termination. We’ll pretend it was the random act of violence you wanted it to resemble. However you want to play this. It makes no difference to me. Just so you get the point. I’ll disappear. That way, you’ve got double protection. Holly McCoy won’t write her story. I won’t be around to be questioned.”
“To hear you talk like this.” The major frowned. “I’m glad we did decide to observe you. You’ve definitely been under cover too long.”
“I think you’d better get some rest,” Alan said. “You’ve just been released from the hospital. You’ve got to be tired.”
The woman added, “Being stabbed. Injuring your head again. In your place, I’d-”
“How’d you know I hurt my head again? I didn’t mention it to anybody.”
“I just assumed.”
“Or you heard it from the man you sent to kill me.”
“Captain, you’re obviously distressed. I want you-in fact, I order you-to stay in this room, to try to relax and get some sleep. We’ll be back here at nine hundred hours tomorrow morning to continue this conversation. Hopefully, you’ll feel less disturbed by then.”
“I honestly don’t blame you for trying to protect the mission,” Buchanan said. “But let’s not talk around the problem. Get it out in the open. Now that I’ve given you a better solution, you don’t have to kill me.”
Alan studied Buchanan with concern, then followed the major and the captain somberly out the door.
12
Buchanan’s legs felt unsteady as he crossed the room and secured the lock. The strain of the conversation had intensified his headache. He shoved three Tylenol caplets into his mouth and went into the bathroom to drink a glass of water. His mouth was so dry that he drank a second glass. His reflection in the mirror showed dark patches under his eyes. I’m losing it, he thought.
In the bedroom, he awkwardly closed the draperies. His side hurt when he stretched out on the bed. The darkness was soothing.
But his mind wouldn’t stop working.
Did I pull it off?
Were they convinced?
He didn’t understand why he was so concerned about Holly’s safety. He’d met her only a few days ago. In theory, they were antagonists. Most of his troubles were due to her interference. In fact, it could be argued that Jack and Cindy Doyle were dead because of her. But the truth was that Holly McCoy hadn’t killed the Doyles. His own people had. Just as they’d killed Bailey. And they’d have killed me, too, if I’d been around when Bailey opened the cooler to look at his money.
So they waited for another chance to get me, a way that wouldn’t look suspicious even to a reporter.
Holly McCoy.
Have I grown attracted to her? he wondered. There had been a time when he could have justified anything- the murder of a reporter, anything-for the sake of maintaining an operation’s security. Now. .
Yes?
Maybe I don’t care about the operation any longer. Or maybe. .
What?
Maybe I’m becoming a human being.
Yeah, but
13
“One more time,” Alan said. “I want to be sure about this.” He drove a rented Pontiac from the Crowne Plaza hotel. Major Putnam sat next to him. Captain Weller leaned forward from the back. “Do any of you know anything about an order to terminate Buchanan?”
“Absolutely not,” the captain said.
“I received no such instructions,” the major said.
“And
“What’s this about Jack and Cindy Doyle?” the major asked. “I thought their deaths were a murder- suicide.”
“So did I,” the captain said. “Buchanan caught me totally off balance when he said they were a double murder. I don’t know anything about orders to terminate
“Who tried to kill Buchanan?” Alan asked.
“An attempted mugging is still the most logical explanation,” the major said.
“In the middle of a crowd outside a restaurant?” Alan gripped the steering wheel harder. “A pickpocket, sure. But I never heard of a pickpocket who drew attention to himself by stabbing the guy he was trying to lift a wallet from.”
“How about some weirdo who gets his kicks out of stabbing people in public?” the captain asked.
“That makes more sense.” Alan turned onto Canal Street, squinting at headlights. “It’s crazy, but it makes sense.”
“The thing is, Buchanan believes
“But do you think he
