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She turned to Mike. “Agent Caine? Agent Savich tells me you wanted to be bait, but the CIA will be using one of their own agents. Do you believe as I do that Matthew Spenser will come to the hospital to try to kill her again?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Mike said. “Given what we heard Vanessa saying on the videotapes, Matthew Spenser felt something for her, at the very least he believed to his soul she was there for him, sharing his goals, sharing his missions. Her betrayal hit him very hard, sent him over the edge enough to kill his best friend, Ian McGuire, and believe he’d killed her. So yes, I believe he’ll come and he’ll see killing her as righteous.
“Also, Vanessa told us Spenser is a news junkie, so if he’s anywhere near a screen, he will see the announcement, and then he will make plans.”
“Her uncle Carl Grace agrees,” Callan said. “Anything else?”
Mike said, “Ma’am, we also believe you need to talk the president into canceling the Yorktown event.”
“Already done. Neither of us will be there. We will announce the cancellation at noon today. The president is not happy about it, but we can’t take any chances with his life, and that is an understatement. And I’d just as soon keep my own hide intact as well. What else, Agent Caine?”
Mike hadn’t expected humor, and smiled. She said, “Ma’am, we don’t know that Zahir Damari was planning to kill you at Yorktown. We don’t even know where he is and that means we have to keep on red alert, as well as you and your protection team. Damari is a consummate professional. As you probably know, we have a photo of him at a diner in Baltimore. He looked nothing like the photo Vanessa managed to send from COE, which means he makes it a habit of altering his looks, which is why we haven’t been able to identify him. He never gives up and from what we’ve heard and read, he always has redundancies built in.”
“So he’s never at a loss,” Callan said, and nodded. “He’d make a good politician. Now, trust me, none of my people are letting down their guard. I was told it was possible he was also here to kill another, still unverified, target. Do you agree, Agent Savich?”
Savich nodded. “Unfortunately, we’re not certain as yet who this other person is. Mossad still doesn’t know?”
“Not yet. Take a guess, Agent Savich.”
“The president of the United States.”
66
PAWN TO H5
Callan tipped her head to the side and nodded slowly. “I agree. As of twenty minutes ago, Mossad had traced money from Iran to accounts Damari is known to use. Is Iran running the show? Mossad believes it’s one of their high-up military, and more than likely they have the active assistance and involvement of Hezbollah.” She said to Nicholas, “Your PM once described the Hezbollah thugs to me as the Nazi SS of Iran.” She paused a moment, then, “Of course, logically, it wouldn’t seem to make sense to want to kill the president, since he is very pro-peace in the region, at almost any cost, and that means incredible concessions to Iran. So why cut off the hand that is eager to feed you?
“But the truth is, as we all know, Hezbollah, as well as ISIS, Al Qaeda, and elements in Iran, would like nothing more than to see the world completely destabilized, a delightful euphemism for destroy every human being that isn’t Shia. What didn’t make sense to me is the fact they have to know they can’t win since we have superior weaponry. They’d be crushed.
“Then I was told about Spenser’s tiny undetectable bombs with a huge payload—witness Bayway—and it all became clear. They believe they can obliterate us without huge casualties on their side. They send their soldiers out far and wide and go. If the payload is as massive as advertised, if the bombs are indeed undetectable, there would be so many casualties, it boggles the mind.
“Now, do you agree with this assessment, Agent Savich?”
“It makes terrifying sense, ma’am, particularly if Zahir got one of the coin bombs to Iran, which I have to believe he did. After all, he was with Spenser for months. I imagine he got one of the coin bombs back to his masters in Iran before it was even tested at Bayway. He’d have had to so they would have time to dismantle it, figure out how to make it, then mass-produce it. Yes, they’re ready and eager. The supposed peace talks were a stall.”
“So it’s all been orchestrated. It’s not a bad plan, all in all, but still, a lot of ifs and maybes. And the keys are the assassinations and the bombs.
“People, trust me, the CIA is on this. Now, tell me how you think Damari will kill the president? Kill me?”
Nicholas said, “Given what Vanessa Grace told us, it’s very possible Spenser and Damari planned a two-pronged attack—Damari killing you and Spenser blowing up the president at Yorktown. Killing both the president and vice president of the United States during Middle East peace talks would send a loud message to the world—the Great Satan is a fool, led around by the nose, and now he’s a dead fool. As you said, ma’am, to destabilize the world is something we know many factions want to happen.
With the tiny bombs—”
Callan nodded. “Yes, it is difficult to take in.
“Now, people, back to Spenser. He’s our key. Please remember our goal is to capture him, and we will trust the CIA to turn Spenser against Damari, find out not only when and where he plans on killing me, but what he eats for breakfast. Does Spenser know Damari has his bombs and what he did with them? Maybe, maybe not. I don’t know.
“Meanwhile, the CIA is concentrating on verifying if indeed Damari delivered the bomb to Iran and if indeed they have figured out how to make them, and indeed have already begun.”
She turned to Nicholas, smiled. “I met your father once, at Ten Downing Street. I remember it was a lovely party. Indeed, I waltzed with him. Please send him my best.”
“I will, ma’am.”
“If all this comes down to the wire, I do hope you live up to your reputation.”
Nicholas merely inclined his head, wondering what she expected him to say. Yes, ma’am, I’ll save the world single-handed? Would ma’am like another happy pill?
Callan said, “Vanessa Grace is safe; she is no longer in residence at George Washington University Hospital. CIA agent Carrie Munson, armed not only with her Glock and red hair, but with a fast and sharp brain, is currently in her room, in her bed.
