He had Jeffery bring out a second bottle of Château d’Yquem. This one was a delicious yet much less expensive ’66. Some partook, some did not.
Twenty minutes later, society members began to thank him and melt away into the night.
Once they were gone, the woman next to him reached out and put her hand on his arm.
“What a glorious evening, Pierre,” she said.
Damien smiled in response. Linda Landon had been working for the Federal Government for over forty years and had seen it all. She was his lynchpin in everything that was about to happen.
Reaching into her shoulder bag, she pulled out a small box. “I brought you something.”
“Linda, you shouldn’t have gotten me a gift.”
“No, no,” she stated, looking down and shaking her head, “it’s just a small token.”
Damien lifted the lid. Inside was a pair of silver cuff links.
“Gordian Knots,” she explained. “I thought you would appreciate them.”
He did indeed. It was one of his favorite ancient myths. The knot was meant to symbolize an impossible problem solved with bold, outside-the-box thinking.
In the story, a man named Gordius celebrates becoming king by dedicating his chariot to Zeus and tying it to a pole with an impossible to unravel Gordian knot. An oracle predicts that a man will come and untie it, and that man will go on to become king of all Asia. Like the legend of the sword in the stone, many tried and failed to untie the knot. Then Alexander the Great visited the city.
He searched and searched for the loose ends of the knot so he could set to work. When he couldn’t find them, he pulled out his sword and sliced right through it. Alexander then went on to conquer Asia.
“They are very handsome,” he said. “Thank you.”
“I’m glad you like them,” Landon replied. “Now, I think you and I should talk about the—”
Damien held his finger up, suggesting she pause, as Jeffery entered the dining room to see if there was anything else they needed.
“Perhaps another coffee?” she said.
“Make it two,” Damien stated. “We will take them in the library.”
Jeffery nodded and walked back to the kitchen.
Damien stood and motioned his guest into the large main hall. It was hung with magnificent oil paintings in thick, gilded frames. They depicted bucolic scenes of hunting, fishing, and farm life. Landon could only imagine how much they had cost.
Beyond the grand staircase was an elegant paneled door. Damien paused just long enough to turn the handle and then step back so his guest could enter.
Landon barely made it two steps inside before coming to an abrupt stop. Curled up on a couch in front of the fireplace, reading, was an attractive young woman in jeans and a rather tight sweater.
“Helena,” Damien said, taken off guard. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to find a book,” she replied, laying aside the leather-bound copy of Edward Pollard’s The Lost Cause and standing.
She walked over and extended her hand to Damien’s guest. “My name is Helena. Helena Pestova.”
“Pleased to meet you,” the older woman replied coldly. “I’m Linda.”
Helena waited, but the woman didn’t give her last name.
Damien had not intended for the two to meet. In fact, he had not intended for Helena to meet any of the society members. The dinner was a boring philanthropic obligation, he had explained. No spouses. No significant others.
Helena had appeared to take it in stride, but entering the main house and establishing herself in the library communicated another message. She wanted his attention, and she would get it soon enough, plenty of it, but he needed to finish his business with Landon first.
“We have some business items to finish up,” he said to her. “I’ll find you afterward. Okay?”
“Okay,” Helena replied as she picked up her book and cell phone, then walked over and kissed him on the cheek.
At the library door, she turned to the other woman and said, “It was nice meeting you.”
Landon shot her a bitchy smile. “You too, dear.”
As Helena exited, Jeffery entered with a tray and set up the coffee service on a small table near the fireplace.
Landon took a seat on the couch, removed her computer from her shoulder bag, and powered it up. Damien sat down at his antique desk.
“Will you be needing anything else?” Jeffery asked.
Damien looked everything over and replied, “I think we’re fine. Thank you, Jeffery.”
Clearing away the tray, Jeffery opened the door and stepped out into the hallway.
As he did, Damien noticed that Helena had left her cell phone charger behind. She always seemed to be forgetting it. She would forget her gorgeous head if it wasn’t attached. She was always leaving that stupid charger somewhere.
He thought about having Jeffery unplug it and take it to her, but decided against it. The less that was said about her in front of Landon, the better.
Though married, Landon carried a torch for Damien. He knew it and had thoroughly manipulated it. Her loyalty to him was beyond question. It was also about to be put to the ultimate test.
Removing his laptop, he set it upon his desk and depressed the power button. Next to it, he placed the encrypted cell phone he had programmed for her.
With a smile, he said, “Let’s get to work.”
CHAPTER 28
Harvath had made the call to scrap the Bunia airport altogether. It was too dangerous. They were better off taking their chances on the road south to Goma.
The Hotel Ihusi on Lake Kivu near the Rwanda border crossing was the perfect place for them to hole up while they waited for their jet to arrive. It was filled with mercenaries, smugglers, hookers, NGO workers, and all sorts of other characters. It reminded Harvath of the cantina scene in Star Wars. The best part was that everyone minded their own business. If you didn’t want to be social, no one bothered you.
It had taken Harvath all the cash he had left to organize their departure. But complicating matters was the fact that Decker had flat-out refused to cooperate.
She not only wouldn’t help with Harvath’s plan, but she also wanted to return to the Matumaini Clinic and begin to rebuild it. That, though, was absolutely out of the question. It was too dangerous. In addition to it being a crime scene, there was no telling if Hendrik’s men, or the FRPI rebels for that matter, might show up there.
In only a handful of days, Harvath had blazed a trail the width of a twenty-lane highway through that part of Congo. It had pissed off a lot of people. The fallout was going to be intense.
Leaving the country as soon as possible was the right thing to do. He had tried to convince Decker of it too, but she wouldn’t listen. Finally, he had to get Beaman on the sat phone to straighten her out.
Beaman made it perfectly clear that the Matumaini Clinic was off-limits. He suggested she come back to the United States until things cooled down. She refused and informed him that she intended to return to Kinshasa even though the CARE clinic there was still on hold. There was nothing Beaman could do to persuade her, and he told Harvath to let her go.
Harvath had no trouble letting her go, but he had no intention of doing it in Bunia. She could catch a plane to Kinshasa from Goma. It would be safer there.
Needless to say, Decker dug her heels in. She wanted to know where Harvath had been and why he had left her at the hotel for two days with Leonce and his son. He didn’t owe her an explanation, but he gave her one anyway.