Thirty minutes later they were on the road in a new Pontiac Firebird, heading north for Washington, D.C.
In the airport terminal Nicole used a pay phone to call her contact, the former CIA operative. “So what did your friend say?” Matt asked.
“Well, to tell you the truth, he asked me how I was and why I hadn’t called him for two years,” she said. “And he said Uncle Bob retired last year. Then he wanted to know if I was serious about this guy I was bringing around.”
“He’s your father?”
“Yes, he’s my father. You got a problem with that? I told you I trusted him. He’s about the only man I do trust, though my mother certainly doesn’t. They divorced when I was young and she hardly ever let me visit him. Said he was a loner, a womanizer and a drunk. Remind you of anyone?”
“Don’t provoke me, woman. I’m at the wheel of a dangerous vehicle and I know how to use it.”
They lapsed into silence.
“Penny for them,” Nicole said.
Am I ready to tell her about Maha’s death? “Thinking about the death of my brother. Seems I lost faith in the future when it happened. And right now, everything seems confusing in my mind.”
“You’re sober, probably for the first time in years.”
“True.”
“But?”
He glanced at her. “I was just wondering if it’s not too late to make something positive of my life.”
“I have no doubt, Matt.” As she glanced out the window her smile changed to horror.
“Matt, look out!” Nicole screamed as a big green car roared up alongside and swerved into them, jolting the little Firebird. There was a sickening crunch of metal, and then the attacker veered away.
“Shit.” he yelled, seeing the Buick with two familiar male occupants. Hairy Ears and Scarface. “They’re going to ram us again.” He jammed his foot on the accelerator. The rented Firebird shot ahead, but quickly reached the engine’s limit.
“We can’t outrun them,” Nicole yelled. “Matt, what are you doing?”
“Trying to save our lives,” as he watched the black car loom in the rear view mirror. “Come on, assholes, floor it. You can do it. You can catch us.” Both cars were at nearly 100 miles per hour. The Buick pulled alongside. He could clearly see Scarface sneering from the passenger seat. A shotgun appeared as the window rolled down.
“Hold on.” Matt swerved at the Buick, which jerked away. Matt jammed down hard on the breaks, struggling to keep the Firebird in a straight line. The Buick shot past, but a second later braked hard. The heavy vehicle skidded on its mushy suspension. Smoking tires slid on the asphalt. Both cars entered the sharp bend at the same time, the Firebird’s traction holding up. The big top-heavy Buick couldn’t gain a secure grip. The car careened off the road, down into the median strip and up into the other lane. Head on traffic hurtled towards them.
Matt watched as the Buick frantically maneuvered to avoid a head-on collision. It veered off the road, bounced over a concrete shoulder and slammed into an oak tree. There was a loud explosion as the car burst into flames. Matt gunned the Firebird.
Nicole was shaking and pale. “What’s happening? Why are people trying to kill you? How do they know where to find you?”
Matt brought the speed down to sixty. His hands shook on the wheel. The rear view mirror was filled with cars stopped on the highway near the burning wreck.
“They seem to know right where I am. Just who did you really call back there at the airport?”
“I told you, my father. You don’t think I’m somehow connected with all this? That I’m leading them to you?” She hit him repeatedly on the arm. “Stop this God damned car right now. I want out. You’re not only crazy, you’re paranoid. I’m the only friend you’ve got, asshole. Is this how you drive people away? No wonder you’re a drunk and a loner. Now let me out.” Tears blinded her.
“Okay, okay. Look, I’m sorry. But I’ve been kidnapped, given a face transplant, seen an innocent young girl slaughtered before my eyes, and nearly run off the road by two goons. Who am I supposed to trust? Every time I look in the mirror I see a stranger staring back at me. I don’t even trust myself.” He looked over at Nicole. She was huddled against the passenger door, bloodshot eyes staring at him. “Screw it,” he said, watching the highway.
After twenty minutes, Matt tried again. “Look, I’m sorry. You’re right, I don’t have any friends, and from the way things are going, it looks like I’ve got a limited future. Thanks for trying to help me.” Through his new face he managed what he hoped was a sincere smile. “The face may be artificial, but the sincerity isn’t. I mean it. Thank you. And I need you to help me. I’m scared. What do you say?”
She wiped her nose. “Yeah. Well since I’m in this car and I’m still alive we might as well try and find some solution to this mess. But I swear to God if you ever doubt me again I’ll turn you over to the CIA, Mossad, KGB, MI5 and even Osama bin Laden.”
“There’s no KGB anymore.”
“Matt!”
“Okay. Do you know why someone is trying to kill me and how they’ve been able to find me so easily?” Matt kept the Firebird just below the speed limit. “All I can figure out is they think I know something. And I don’t have any idea what it could be. But I’m going to find out. If they’re going to snuff out my life, then I’m going to know what I’m dying for. It must have something to do with a terrorist cell and the suicide attack on the President.”
Nicole stared. “What do you know about that attack?”
“I’ve got no real proof.”
“Tell me everything. Right now.”
Matt slipped the car nimbly around an eighteen wheeler. Where to begin. “The woman suicide bomber, the one they keep showing on the news? Well, I know her. More accurately, I knew her, once.” He explained how Bedouina died in the bombing incident at a Beirut restaurant in April 1969, along with his girlfriend and his roommate. “She died. And yet when I saw the newscast I knew who it was. The same woman. But it couldn’t be. Could it?” Matt’s composure crumbled. He blinked back the tears and concentrated on the traffic. “They were incinerated. Samir, Bedouina and Maha. Gone in an instant.”
Nicole placed her hand on his shoulder. “I don’t know, Matt, but something’s wrong, terribly wrong. It’s like you’re an expendable pawn in a deadly game and its way bigger than both of us.”
Matt put his hand over hers. God I’m scared. And tired. “I can’t do this, Nicole. I’m not a spook and I’m certainly not a hero-I’m just a washed-out doctor and recovering drunk. Look, when we get to Washington I’ll drop you off at your father’s place and then I’m going to the FBI to turn myself in. I’ll be safe there. I’ll tell them everything. They can play hero and stop these bastards.”
“No, Matt. If you go to the FBI, the CIA or even the D.C. police, you’ll be dead within hours. Think about it. How do you think these guys operate so freely inside the United States? They’ve bought somebody high up is my guess. I wouldn’t trust anybody in an official capacity at this moment. And if they get to you they’ll find out about me one way or another. And I’m not ready to depart this planet yet. I don’t have my required two and a half kids, a dog and a cat.”
“But I can’t embroil you in all of this.”
“I’m already in it. I know too much and I’ve seen too much. We live or die together. And my vote is we live.” Nicole smiled. “So you just drive like a normal commuter into Washington and we’ll go see my father. Besides, you and he will probably get along famously.”
Two hours later, Matt parked the Firebird on a side street in Georgetown, a trendy suburb of Washington. Matt locked the leather valise in the trunk. Now what? Nicole stopped at a phone booth in front of a small restaurant. She dialed the number quickly.
“He’s expecting us,” she said emerging from the booth. After a short walk she abruptly cut through someone’s backyard and into an alley. They reached a rotting wooden fence with the gate open. Nicole headed for the back porch of a dilapidated brick row house. She opened the screen door and reached under the sisal mat for the key. Matt was about to ask her father’s name.