here and there in the design could he see outside.
The view was of the cemetery, the tombstones, blooming trees, and emerging grass. All quiet except for movement on the far side. Near the wall. Two people. A woman.
And Zachariah Simon.
A touch to his shoulder startled him.
He whirled.
Berlinger stood a foot away.
“Would you like to hear what they are saying?”
———
ZACHARIAH STARED AT THE AMBASSADOR. TIME TO FIND OUT what was really going on. “No more games. What are you doing here in Prague? And do not tell me you came to simply talk.”
“I would say it was good I came. You discovered that I truly do understand you.” She paused. “And that I know what you are planning.”
That was true.
“But you are right,” she said. “I came to tell you that the Americans are more intent on stopping you than I realized. They have been watching you for nearly a decade. Were you aware of that?”
He shook his head.
“It is true. I have been able to divert them for a while, but eventually they will be back on your trail.”
“And when will they discover that you are not their friend?”
She smiled. “After I become prime minister, when they will have no choice but to work with me. Hopefully, by then you will have changed the world.”
What a thought.
“I wanted you to know this information,” she said. “You have to be careful, Zachariah. Extremely careful. I can protect you only so far.”
He caught the warning in her voice. “I am always careful.”
“One can never be too careful.”
He caught the smile on her lips.
He’d already plugged the leak within his inner circle. But he wondered. Had Bene Rowe sold him out to the United States? He’d been told Brian Jamison worked for Rowe. Twice, in Jamaica, Rowe had made Jamison available, touting his abilities. Rowe either was a party to the American lie or had been duped himself.
“And what of Thomas Sagan,” she asked. “Is he proving helpful or a problem?”
This woman was informed.
“He has proven to be a problem.”
“I assume you know he is a journalist who once covered the Middle East. I remember reading his stories. He was regarded as one of the best in the region. Not a favorite, though, of those in positions of power. He took both sides to task.”
“How do you know so much about Sagan?”
“Because, Zachariah, I know who destroyed him eight years ago.”
“Destroyed?”
She nodded. “See, there are things that you do not know. The supposedly fabricated story that brought about Sagan’s downfall? I read it yesterday for the first time. It dealt with Israeli and Palestinian extremists. Explosive information, detrimental to both sides. And all false. Sagan was set up. The sources he quoted were actors, the information fed to him, all designed to end his career. Like the subject of the story itself, a bit extreme, but the tactic worked.”
“There are people with that capability?”
“Certainly. Their services are for sale and they are not ideologues. They work for any and all sides.”
Unlike himself.
“Do what you have to with Sagan,” she said. “Handle the problem. I am on my way back to Israel. I came here to meet with you one last time. You and I shall never speak again. You know that once you have accomplished your objective, you cannot be a part of what happens after. You are David to my Solomon.”
From Chronicles. King David had wanted to honor the Lord with a permanent monument to take the place of a roving tabernacle. He possessed ample slaves from his many war victories, along with gold and silver, and planned to build the greatest temple then known. But God told him that he’d spent his life in violence. He was a man of blood. So the privilege of erecting the temple would pass to his son, Solomon.
“You are a man of blood,” she said to him.
He considered that a compliment. “Which is necessary.”
“As it was to David. So finish this last battle, start your war, and allow Israel to reap the reward.”
———
TOM STARED AT THE MONITOR. BERLINGER STOOD BESIDE HIM. They’d descended to the basement of the ceremonial hall. What had once been a mortuary was now some sort of security center. A bank of eight LCD
