in and out of the country without the Israelis knowing about it.
But if that was the case, what was up with Yacoub?
“She’s getting into the taxi,” Dean told Rockman. “Yacoub’s behind her,” he added. “Getting his own cab.”
“Yeah, we see it. All right. You’re at the same hotel. She’s Five-fourteen; you’re Three-twelve. Already preregistered. Give her five minutes, then go on.”
“You don’t want me to trail them?”
“The hotel’s only a mile away. She won’t get lost,” said the runner. “If you burn your cover we’re going to have to start from scratch. Let her go on.”
Dean waited three minutes before telling his driver to go along to the hotel. Even so, it appeared that Lia beat them by a considerable margin; she’d checked in and was upstairs before Dean got to the front desk.
The desk clerk’s English was passable, and after handing over his credit card, Dean found himself being led by a bellhop to the elevator.
“Charlie — where’s Yacoub?” asked Rockman in the elevator.
“Don’t know.”
The bellhop turned and gave Dean a puzzled glance. He smiled.
“Something’s up.”
Dean reached across and pressed the elevator button for the fifth floor even though the bellhop had already pressed 3.
“Go on to your room,” said Rockman. “We’ll give you more instructions.”
The door opened on 3. Dean reached into his pocket and took out some of the Canadian money he was carrying, stuffing it into the bellhop’s hand.
“Go,” Dean told him. “I’ll be along. Go.” He reached to hit the DOOR CLOSED button.
“Charlie, what are you doing?” asked Rockman. “Go into your room. Stick with the program.”
By the time the elevator opened, Dean had taken out the small Sig pistol he’d been given as a personal weapon. He ran down the hallway toward Lia’s room, rapped twice on the wooden door — then used his leg to kick it open. He dived to the floor, rolling around the empty room.
“She’s not here,” said Dean.
“No kidding,” said Rockman.
“Where is she?” asked Dean, jumping up.
“Look, Charlie, this is a complicated situation. We don’t have time to explain everything to you,” said Telach.
“Screw yourself, Marie,” he said, running back into the hall.
73
Rubens stared at the grid position screen, which showed Lia moving out of the hotel.
“Are we sure of Yacoub Bahir Ben Rahimat’s loyalties?” Rubens asked Telach.
“The only way we can be sure is to ask Mossad.”
Rubens did not want to risk the loss of one of his people. And there were definitely points to be gained in telling a fellow intelligence agency that one of its foreign agents was more foreign than it believed. But inadvertently tipping the Israelis off to the bacteria would have untold consequences. He couldn’t do so without Hadash‘s — and the President’s — direct authorization, and probably consulting with State as well.
If he were Secretary of State, what would his call be?
“Keep a close eye on the situation,” he told Telach. “I’ll talk to the Israelis.”
“Boss?”
Rubens turned and looked up toward Chafetz.
“Yes, Sandy?”
“What are we doing with Tommy? I have him on the helicopter, but you said to wait for your approval. Can he go over the border or not?”
Rubens looked at Telach. “The doctors cleared him?”
“They say he’s no longer contagious. It’s also a pretty good bet that the people up in that village were already exposed, and have some sort of immunity. He wanted to be part of the team going north, but I told him he needed your okay.”
Rubens turned back to look at the map indicating where Lia was being taken. He found following two halves of the operation invigorating — switching from one segment to the other kept his mind fluid.
He’d have to talk to Mossad and make sure about Yacoub Bahir Ben Rahimat. Which meant talking to Hadash. Which would also give him an opportunity to sound Hadash out about Marshall and asking directly about the Secretary of State matter. Hadash was sure to have a considerably more developed perspective than Brown had had — and be much more willing to discuss it. The National Security Advisor might use fewer words and yet prove twice as revealing.
What if he found that Marshall had succeeded in buying off Hadash himself? A Hadash veto — that would truly stop him.
Good God—
The operation to gather the drug had to proceed one way or another. Karr was their best bet at getting the antidote. The villagers would trust him.
“Have Tommy go ahead,” Rubens told Telach. Then he pointed to the map. “Help Mr. Dean trail Lia, but please put a collar on him. You’ll do well to remind him of the line between personal initiative and running amok. It looks from your screen that he’s tearing through the hotel. That won’t make his cover story any more believable.”
74
Karr wrapped his hand around the strap next to the seat in the back of the Sikorsky. He was all alone in the chopper, one of several precautions the doctors had asked him to follow just in case they were wrong about the tests and he was still contagious. The NSA op was supposed to keep several feet from everyone he came in contact with, not touch them, and not let them touch anything he touched. He wore gloves, a special set of rubber boots, and layers of pants and shirts that were supposed to keep his sweat from contaminating anyone.
“How you feeling, Typhoid Mary?” asked Chafetz.
“Just dandy,” he said. “Even had solid food for lunch.”
The helicopter banked so sharply Karr nearly fell out of his seat. A Thai patrol had run north a few minutes before and Puff/1 was flying shotgun just ahead, but the guerrillas had already demonstrated that they were adept at taking down flying objects. It took nearly twenty minutes to weave across the border and reach the village. Karr stared out the window. It was a good thing he was feeling better, though; the zigzag route would have done a number on his stomach otherwise.
He stepped out of the helicopter, steadied himself with a huge breath of air, and started toward the hamlet. He nodded at the Thai military people who’d put down earlier; all of them were wearing surgical masks. Contrary to popular belief, the masks offered little, if any, protection against most infections and were undoubtedly of little value here, where the disease was spread through saliva coming in contact with the skin. It was difficult, however, to argue with the psychological value.
The doctors reasoned that, since Karr had already been here, it was unlikely that he would infect any of the villagers even if they were wrong about him being contagious. Nonetheless, he followed the protocol they had outlined, making sure to stay at least six feet from them. The doctors with the company fanned out, preparing to administer tests to see if anyone had been infected earlier.
