“I need a good hotel.”
“Not a problem. Holiday Inn?”
“That’ll do.”
Karr saw Dabir looking at the voucher in his hand. The hotel he’d been given a voucher for was the Minerva, located several miles from the Holiday Inn.
“Holiday Inn comin’ up. So what’s goin’ on in there? Heard they lost their power.”
“I don’t know.”
“Really puttin’ you out. Kind of a rip-off, huh?” said Karr, glancing back. “Did they at least offer to put you up or buy dinner?”
“They canceled our flights and told us to come back tomorrow.”
“Where ya goin’?” asked Karr. He jerked his head around. Dabir’s face, tired, seemed pale.
“To the hotel?”
“No, I mean flyin’. Maybe I could drive you.”
“No, thank you.”
“You’re the boss. Holiday Inn’s our next stop.”
Karr pulled around Route 300, driving toward the hotel and humming the
“Uh-oh,” said Karr as he pulled into the driveway. “Home-coming week.”
“What does that mean?” asked Dabir, digging into his wallet to pay him.
“It’s a college thing. Graduates come back. The hotel may be booked. Want me to wait?”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“No problem for me. The night is dead. You want change?”
“Keep it.” said Dabir, getting out.
“Good tipper,” Karr told Rockman as he pulled ahead.
“He’s at the desk. Not too happy.”
Karr put the taxi in gear and drove to the end of the driveway. As Dabir came through the front door, he pulled out, then pretended to spot him, and veered back into the lot through the other entrance, narrowly missing a pickup truck.
“Problem?” he asked Dabir, rolling down the window.
“Take me to the Minerva.”
“You got an address on that?”
“You never heard of it?”
“It’s near the river somewhere. I can find it, but, uh, if you have the address it’ll kind of save a little time, you know? Most people come here.”
Dabir gave him the voucher.
“Be there in two shakes,” said Karr, handing the slip back.
CHAPTER 152
Dabir got out of the taxi and walked into the hotel, trying not to let fatigue lower his guard. The clerk at the Holiday Inn had been a snotty kid, full of American arrogance toward strangers, taking glee in predicting that he would not find a hotel with a free room until next Monday. That behavior would never be tolerated in Europe, thought Dabir, let alone in an Arab country, where guests were to be treated with honor and respect.
He would remember the kid when he coordinated his first attack here. It would inspire him.
“Oh, there you are,” said one of the passengers from the plane, passing him in the lobby. It was the Asian- American woman named Li. “We wondered what had happened to you.”
“I decided to see if a friend was home,” lied Dabir. “But he wasn’t.”
“Oh, too bad. Well, listen. There’s a restaurant up the street. Some of us are checking it out.”
“No, thank you.”
“There’s no room service,” she added. “But they do have a little coffee shop around the back through that door. You can take the steps. See you on the plane in the morning.”
Dabir presented his voucher to the clerk, who immediately punched it into his computer and retrieved a key for him.
“You can leave your bag, sir,” added the man. “We’ll bring it right up to you.”
“No, that’s all right.” said Dabir, who was nonetheless pleased to see that at least some employees here had manners. “Thank you, though.”
“Elevator right there. I’m sorry that you were inconvenienced at the airport. It’s really unusual.”
The room was good sized. The desk clerk’s polite manner had mollified Dabir somewhat and he found himself actually regretting that he hadn’t gone to dinner.
The woman was attractive. It might have been enjoyable to spend a few hours with her.
Dangerous, though. It would mean lowering his guard, something he must not, could not do. Besides, she was an American, a nonbeliever who, at heart, was his enemy.
Dabir decided he was feeling hungry rather than lonely, and after washing up went to find the hotel cafe she had mentioned. The stairs were at the end of the hall; he pushed open the door, took a step, then felt himself falling backwards. The back of his head seemed to pop, and everything went black.
CHAPTER 153
“Heavier than he looks,” grunted Tommy Karr as he hauled Dabir over his shoulder. “How we lookin’, Rockman?”
“Coast is clear. I thought you were going to wait until he’d eaten?”
“I sees my chances and I takes ’em, boss,” said Karr, still talking like the cab driver he’d pretended to be. He slid open the door and hustled into the hallway.
The door to room 213 opened and Hernes Jackson’s face appeared.
“Here we go, Ambassador,” said Karr, striding into the room. “One patient, prepped and ready to go under the knife.”
Sweat rolled down Dr. Ramil’s fingers as well as his brow. His first thought was that Dabir was dead. He felt for a pulse at the neck.
It wouldn’t be a great loss if he were dead, Ramil thought. But the thump beneath his fingers was strong and steady.
“Did you give him the drugs?” Ramil asked Karr.
“Popped him on the head, poked him with the tack,” said Karr. The “tack” was a hypodermic needle designed to be concealed in a fist. It looked like a rubber ball with a metal snout and needle.
“Is there a problem, doctor?” asked Jackson.
Ramil looked across the bed at him. “No, I–I just want to make sure we’re ready.”
“Looks gone to me,” said Karr.
Ramil turned around to the second bed and opened the two attache cases. He pulled on the gloves, aware that he was breathing deeply.
Ramil looked at the knife, then went to Dabir. The new device was designed to be inserted at the back of the skull. Its design made it harder to detect, and it had a range nearly twice that of the one he had implanted in Asad.
The knife felt heavy in his hand. Ramil looked across the room at Jackson, who stared back at him.
