"I'm afraid I agree with you."
She paused. "There's something else I'm looking at."
"Yes?"
"I've received highly reliable intelligence from Israel about the shooter. He was nobody, a gofer in Hezbollah, the sort of person they use for menial tasks. Not very smart. It seems odd to me he would be given an important mission like that."
Rice stopped pacing and looked at her. "Are you saying you think this wasn't a genuine attempt? That the shooter was a patsy?"
If she said yes and she was wrong, she'd lose whatever credibility she had left. It didn't matter what her successes had been in the past. The nature of political realities at this level meant mistakes could not be overlooked. Whatever she told Rice would have consequences, for her and for the Nation.
Elizabeth took a breath. "Yes, sir. I think it's a set up. Someone wants to push Israel into another war and they want Weisner as the new PM. If they'd really wanted to kill him, he'd be dead."
"If it wasn't Hezbollah, who was it?"
"I don't know, yet. I'm working on it."
"Iran is mobilizing."
"Yes, sir. I saw the satellite intel."
"The last war was barely stopped before it went nuclear." Rice paused, considering what he was about to say. "Langley thinks Iran may have a nuke."
Elizabeth was stunned. She had no knowledge of an Iranian nuke. She had seen nothing to indicate Tehran had succeeded in building a weapon.
"How could they have built a bomb?" she said.
"They didn't. CIA thinks they've gotten hold of a Russian warhead built in the 80s. It was designed for an SS-13 missile but could be modified to fit the Shahab 3. That missile could hit Tel Aviv or Haifa."
"Do the Israelis know this?"
"They do not, nor am I going to tell them just yet. It would lead to rash actions on their part."
"You mean a preemptive strike against Iran."
"They are certain to react in that way."
"Sir, that is a disaster. The Mullahs are unstable. If they have a nuke and it looks like Israel is going to drive Hezbollah from Lebanon, they'll use it. Israel would retaliate with their own nukes."
"Exactly. We are currently at DEFCON 3. If Lerner invades Lebanon, I will go to DEFCON 2. If it looks like Iran is getting ready to launch a strike, I will inform the Israelis of what we've learned."
"Sir, I am sure he is serious."
"I don't like the way this is headed. There's too much risk of a nuclear war. I might be able to stop Lerner if I can show him Hezbollah is not behind this attack on Weisner. You say the assassin was a patsy. Prove it, Elizabeth."
"I'll do my best, Mister President."
"Do it quickly, Director. I don't think there's much time left."
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
Phillip Harrison III leaned back in the comfortable chair in his Boston office and worked to control his anger. The damage was done. Getting angry wouldn't help or fix things. Interference by the Project meant changes had to be made. It was annoying to deal with.
First they had eliminated Anderson, a man he'd relied on for years. It was inconvenient to lose such a valuable resource. Harrison had other sources inside Langley, though none were field agents. Good for gathering intelligence, useless for more difficult kinds of work. Anderson had been good at that. The way he'd dispatched that French mob boss and cleaned up afterward was a perfect example.
Then there was the mercenary he'd contracted with, the man who was supposed to handle things in England. He was dead too, along with his men. Another failure, but also a potential source of exposure eliminated.
Harrison was about to interview a replacement, a man named Nigel McKenzie. He came highly praised by Arthur Croft. The arms merchant said he was ruthless and reliable. It was a solid recommendation.
McKenzie had been an officer in British Special Forces before an incident in Iraq had forced him to resign his commission. Now he ran MKTA Security, a company that provided services to a small number of wealthy clients. McKenzie's employees joked that MKTA stood for Must Kill Them All. If you had trouble with unruly locals at your mines in Africa or South America, or needed someone to discourage the people who wanted to steal your oil, you called MKTA. Once they arrived on the scene, problems quickly ceased.
Harrison wasn't sure what had happened at Pembroke. No one had survived to report back. He didn't think the Project had found anything. The Ark was still out there somewhere and they'd keep looking for it. He simply had to follow them until they found it. He decided to hire McKenzie to finish the job the others had failed to accomplish. Harrison didn't like to lose. The Project had blocked him at each step of the way. It had become personal.
His secretary came into the office. "Colonel McKenzie is here, sir."
"Send him in."
McKenzie didn't so much as enter the room as fill it with his presence. He was about five ten, a solid, wide man, with shoulders like a bull. His face was hard and brown and dry from years spent under open skies and tropical suns. He moved with contained violence that smoldered behind blue eyes cold as a glacial lake.
Harrison liked him on sight.
"Please, sit down, Colonel."
McKenzie sat. "Nice office." He looked out at the panoramic view of Boston.
"Care for a drink?" Harrison said.
"After we talk, perhaps. Croft said you had an interesting proposition."
McKenzie's voice was thick with an echo of Scotland.
"Colonel, do you know who I am?"
"Enough. I know you are a wealthy man. I know you are having trouble with some, mm, discreet operatives of your government."
"That is correct. They are members of a small intelligence unit."
"What sort of trouble are they making for you?"
"Arthur said I could trust in your discretion. Is that true, Colonel?"
"Please do not insult my intelligence, Mister Harrison."
"Of course, I apologize. I am seeking an object of some antiquity. These people are also looking for it. They have managed to stay ahead of me so far and have also eliminated several valuable assets of mine."
"Ah."
"To be plain, Colonel, I want them eliminated in turn. And I want that object, if they manage to find it."
"You want me to terminate them?"
"That is correct."
"It will be expensive."
"As you said, I am a wealthy man. As long as you propose a reasonable price, there will be no problem."
"I'll need specifics. Who they are, who they work for, where they live. All that."
Harrison slid a folder across his desk. "All in there."
McKenzie nodded. He appreciated efficiency.
"What is this object?"
"Does it matter?"
McKenzie grinned. "Not really. The fee is two million Euros. Half now, half on completion to your satisfaction. One million Euros as a bonus if I secure this…object for you."
"You have considerable faith in your ability," Harrison said. "You understand, failure is not an option."
McKenzie smiled.
"Agreed," Harrison said.
McKenzie took out a pocket notebook and wrote down an account number from a bank in the Caymans. Harrison took the paper and looked at the name of the bank.
"An excellent choice. They are quite secure."
Harrison had a computer monitor on his desk. He pulled a keyboard out and entered a string of commands. He turned the monitor so McKenzie could see it. Then he pressed send. 1,000,000 Euros was transferred from one account to the other.
"I think I'll have that drink now," McKenzie said.
After the man had left, Harrison thought about the meeting. He considered the money well spent, if it brought results. Now that he'd taken steps to get things back on track he could relax a bit.