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A slight laugh. “You’re a field operative, Liam. Not a director. Don’t puff yourself up like that.”
A pause.
Liam still feels like he’s onstage, making it up as he goes along.
“All right,” Lin says. “I’ll sweeten the offer.”
“I’m listening.”
Lin says, “You come to South Africa, help me free Benjamin, and I’ll tell you how your vice president fell into a coma, and how to safely and quickly revive her.”
Another scribble on the legal pad from the director, but Liam doesn’t have to look at her note.
“Lin, you’ve got yourself a deal,” he says.
CHAPTER 85
DIRECTOR HANNAH ABRAMS feels like she’s on a treadmill that keeps speeding up, and she can’t get off. All she can do is keep upright and make it work, no matter how much the speed dangerously increases.
Listening in, she hears the Chinese intelligence operative say, “Very well. Contact me at this number”—and she recites a series of numerals—“once you’re in-country. We’ll meet and go over how we’re going to get Benjamin Lucas out. Once the three of us are in a safe place, that’s when I’ll tell you about the vice president.”
Abrams captures Liam’s eye, writes a quick question on the pad, and pushes it over.
“Did you and your agency do it?”
Lin says, “No. But we know how it was done, where it was done, and how to make her well. I’ve been on this call too long. Call me when you’re in South Africa.”
Click.
The call is disconnected.
Hannah replaces the phone receiver, as does Liam.
Noa says, “I just caught part of the conversation, but is Liam going to South Africa?”
Hannah says, “It appears so. Not to sound cold and callous but rescuing one operative is too dangerous. But if we can help the vice president, well, it’ll be worth it. Especially if she’s well and in place in the days and weeks ahead.”
“Ma’am,” Noa says. “You’ve said time is of the essence. Even if Liam was to leave right now, it’s at least a twenty- or twenty-one-hour flight to Johannesburg. That’s nearly a day, ma’am.”
“If he flies commercial, you’re right,” she says, reaching for a different phone that has a secure line for sensitive communications. “But he won’t be flying commercial.”
Hannah picks up the receiver from her secure phone bank, strikes a button that rings a prerecorded phone number.
It’s picked up after just one ring.
“Two-eight-three-one.”
“I need to speak to General Pease.”
“He’s unavailable,” the male voice says. “He’s on the flight line.”
“This is CIA Director Hannah Abrams,” she says. “Make him available. Now.”
“Hold one, ma’am.”
The phone line goes quiet.
It’s also quiet in her office.
