Jeffery Deaver - Watchlist

“And the technology that the Group is after?”

“What Sikari developed was based on the old Nazi copper-bracelet theory. But what he created was only partially successful. It wouldn’t operate as a super-generator the way he wanted… Look, I’m a businessman, Colonel Middleton. I make more money off the living than the dead. If something happens to the American secretary of state, it’s not just war in the Indian sub-continent we will need to worry about.”

Harold Middleton wasn’t sure he believed everything the Russian said, but it was true that if the secretary were assassinated the whole world would reel from the repercussions.

If this Archer Sikari were truly moving forward with his father’s plan, then the arrival of the secretary of state would be too irresistible to pass up. One of the goals the secretary had laid out not long after being sworn in was to ease the tensions between India and Pakistan with an emphasis on the troubled region of Kashmir. This was undoubtedly the reason she was traveling to the area.

Middleton said, “We’ve got to contact the State Department immediately.”

“Of course they’ve been notified. But they’re in agreement that the visit should go on. Security is going to be very high-both State Department and my company, BlueWatch. In any case, we have no knowledge that Archer even knows about the visit.”

“Why do you want me to go there?”

“It’s not just me.” The Russian handed Middleton a decoded communiqué from the State Department. He recognized the name of one of the deputy directors. It authorized Middleton and the Volunteers to locate Archer Sikari and coordinate with local authorities to arrest him. A final paragraph added that Tesla, Carson and Chang had been notified and had acknowledged receipt. That meant they were fine.

Middleton noticed the document didn’t say anything about Charley.

“I have to contact my daughter.”

“Encrypted emails only,” Chernayev said. “My compound is constantly scanned for cell and text signals.”

He wrote out a message for Charley. Chernayev gave it to a young man in a BlueWatch uniform. He hurried off to send it.

“Now, will you go to Kashmir?”

“Of course,” Middleton said.

“One of my men will take you to a room where you can get some rest. Arrangements are being worked out now and as soon as everything is ready, you will be on your way.” He held out his hand to Middleton. “I wish you a safe and successful journey.”

Middleton looked at the Scorpion’s hand, then reluctantly reached out and shook it.

As Archer knew he would, Sanam had called him to tell him that they were ready to carry out the plan. Archer had already set in motion the delivery of the explosives through his American subcontractors. Within 36 hours, Sanam’s men had begun placing the charges in the pre-determined locations within the dam.

Archer felt extremely satisfied. The only thing left to be determined was where he was going to be at the time of the big event. The dam was located in a mountainous rural area, but there were plenty of places he could choose where he would be able to see the dam as it crumbled into a useless pile of cement, carrying the secretary of state to her death.

Most of the locations were only reachable by helicopter, but that wasn’t a problem for him. With his father’s fortune now at his disposal, he could purchase a fleet of helicopters if need be.

He could feel the power that was rippling just below his skin. It was an electrical force he could only dream about before. On all those nights when he and Harris shared a room, and after his brother had fallen asleep, Archer had let his mind imagine this very moment-this time when he would be in charge. When he would be the power.

If there was one thing that troubled him, it was Jana. She was his sword and his lover, but he hadn’t heard her voice in over two days, not since before she had forwarded him the photographic proof that Charlotte Middleton was dead.

Too bad for that. He had hoped they would have been able to take Harold Middleton’s daughter alive. But better dead than running free.

Jana sent a text that said she would come to him as soon as she could, but that a member of Harold Middleton’s Volunteers was trailing her, so she would have to take care of that problem first.

He so wanted to call her, but refrained. Their procedure was to avoid voice contact. This had been Archer’s idea. He wanted no one to know what his voice sounded like. Even with the absolute best encryption, there was always a chance that someone somewhere would be able to break it.

Archer’s power would rest in his ability to remain a ghost, feared and unknown.

So until she arrived, he would have to content himself with the anticipation of having her at his side.

Something he was already practiced at doing.

“We have a problem,” Umer whispered to Sanam.

They were sitting in a small restaurant in a village 20 kilometers from the Baglihar dam. The restaurant was really the front room of a dilapidated shack. The rest of the shack served as the home for the family that ran the place.

At the moment, Sanam and Umer were the only customers. The young boy who had been serving them had gone into the back to leave them in peace while they ate.

“What is it?” Sanam asked.

“The remote controls for the detonators.”

“What about them?”

“They don’t work.”

Sanam froze for a moment, startled by his old friend’s words. “They are defective?”

“Not exactly. When we put them inside the dam, there is too much concrete. The signal must not be getting through.”

“But they work otherwise?”

“I had one of the men smuggle a remote back out and I tried it. Outside, it worked fine.”

The idea of eating no longer appealed to Sanam. Everything they had been working toward, the years of infiltration and manual labor, all the pressure he’d put his men under for the last two days, it was all for nothing. And the opportunity they were going to squander, undone by something as simple as a blocked radio signal. How could this have even happened?

“The American,” Umer said, “we shouldn’t have trusted him. He’s given us equipment he should have known would not work.”

Sanam could see murder in his friend’s eyes. “Calm down, Umer. There’s still time. I’ll talk to him and get remotes that will work.”

“And if they are faulty too?”

“We will deal with that if it happens.”

“I don’t like this,” Umer said, his unhappiness still written on his face.

The sound of shuffling feet from the back of the restaurant announced the return of the serving boy. He approached their table to ask if they wanted anything else.

“Nothing more, thank you,” Sanam said.

As soon as the boy had cleared the dishes and returned to the back, Umer said, “I tell you I don’t like this.”

“And I tell you that I understand,” Sanam said. “I am not happy about this either. I will talk to the American and I will see what can be done.”

Middleton’s eyes flew open.

What the hell was that?

He’d been dead asleep, then something pulled him out of it so fast his heart raced. A dream? If it was, it would have been the most intense one he’d had in years. What then?

He reached over to the nightstand and checked his watch.

It was 4:09 a.m.

Middleton knew he should try to go back to sleep. Lying there awake would only drive him crazy. As he started to close his eyes he heard a muffled pop. Then another, and another.

Gunfire. It was coming from the front of the estate.

He pushed himself up instantly knowing there must have been an earlier shot, a shot that would have pulled him out of his sleep.