Robert Ferrigno - Heart of the Assassin

"Son of a bitch." Rakkim sat up. Importing Coca-Cola or anything else from the Belt had been a felony then; even Redbeard might have been charged if caught. "He asked me what I had done with the empty bottle, so he could dispose of it safely. He wasn't angry, he just said he wanted to protect us. We even talked about how good Coca-Cola tasted, how much better it was than Jihad Cola, how everyone drank it when he was a boy." He shook his head. "I tried to tell him that I had taken care of it, but he insisted on seeing the empty bottle. 'The whole household could be in jeopardy, Rikki. You, me, Sarah…we would all be equally guilty. You wouldn't want that to happen, would you?'" Rakkim looked at Sarah. "When I couldn't come up with the empty…he just patted me on the head and walked away. He didn't tell me the interrogation technique actually had a name."

"The affirmation trap. That's what Redbeard called it."

"Redbeard told you this? You were five years old . I was ten."

Sarah ran a finger down his spine, made him shiver. "I was smarter."

"Affirmation trap," said Rakkim. "I'll have to try that."

Sarah squeezed out her hair, water running down her shoulders. "It doesn't work on me."

"I wasn't planning on using it on you."

They were on their way back to the car, clothes still damp, when Sarah spoke again. "You said before that you felt like time was running out. You were right. That's why President Brandt and President Raynaud need to forge some kind of alliance."

"Good luck."

"The true cross can help bridge the gap," insisted Sarah. "People need symbols, Rikki. We're wired for it. Symbols are the most potent and direct language we have."

"Yeah, well, that's your specialty, not mine. Like I said, I'll go to D.C. I'll search for the true cross like some crusader on a mission from the pope. Just ask Spider and Leo if they can narrow the search. I'm not interested in sightseeing."

Sarah shook her head. "I already asked John Moseby to go."

Rakkim stopped. "When?"

"Leo contacted him on a secure link a few days ago. He's already on the way," said Sarah. "I know you think I should have asked you, but John's a finder. You said yourself he was the best. He's also a Christian."

"It's too dangerous."

"He's not going into D.C. Not yet, anyway. I sent him to talk with the wife of the zombie that found the safe room."

"I don't want John going into D.C. by himself, Sarah."

"He won't."

"You don't know Moseby."

Senator Derrick Chambers slept with a night-light on. A small night-light in the shape of a sailboat, just like the one featured in his campaign ads-Chambers upright at the wheel, his sandy hair rippling in the sea breeze as he headed into the dawn. Captain Courageous. Rakkim switched the light off, the room almost completely dark now, except for a thin strand of moonlight that edged between the thick drapes. Plenty of light for Rakkim's Fedayeen eyes to see, but the senator would be blind. Terrible state for a man who needed a night-light.

Chambers sighed, turned over in bed. He was alone and Rakkim was grateful for that. The papers said his wife and children were in Hawaii while he attended to legislative matters, but there were always other possibilities. Not tonight, though.

Rakkim peeled back the hood of his stealth suit. Skintight, the material instantly mimicked any background color or pattern, rendering the wearer nearly invisible. The military used a slower version for night infiltrations, one that absorbed the infrared used by night-vision devices. Industrial spies and saboteurs used gadget-enhanced Chinese versions. Fedayeen assassins used the simplest-type stealth suit-no laser refraction, no sound-dampening capability, no auxiliary-light absorption. Anyone other than an assassin would get himself killed trying to get by with one. Rakkim had found it in a Level 6 security locker at the Fedayeen academy after he killed Darwin. It fit him perfectly.

He moved slowly across the room. Barely stirring the carpet. His heartbeat steady. He hovered over the senator, watching him breathe. He could count the hairs in his eyelashes in the darkness. He slipped out his knife, rested the flat of the blade across the man's lips.

The senator opened his eyes.

"Don't worry," said Rakkim.

The senator's eyes widened in the darkness.

"I'm going to remove the knife, but I want you to keep your voice down. I know the room is wired to alert your bodyguards if the sound level goes over ninety decibels, so we're going to have a nice conversation, you and I, like a couple of civilized gentlemen. Is that okay with you?"

The senator nodded.

Rakkim took the knife away.

"I can't see you," said the senator.

"It's all right, I can see you."

"What…what do you want?"

"Just what I said. A nice little conversation."

"May I sit up?"

"Sure." Rakkim waited until the senator shifted to an upright position, then sat down on the bed facing him. "Is that better?"

"Can I please put on a light?"

"I prefer the darkness."

"Yes, well, some of us don't have the advantage of night-vision goggles." Chambers cocked his head, listening. He was tall and handsome, lightly muscled, his chest waxed smooth in the modern style. "How…how did you get past my bodyguards?"

"That's my job, Senator. I'm good at my job, just as you're good at yours."

"What you're doing is a federal offense. Do you understand that?"

"Having a conversation is a crime? What a world we live in."

"Is it money…is that what you want?"

"You know better than that, Senator. I'm here at the request of a mutual friend."

"A friend?" The senator moistened his lips in the darkness. Squinted. "If a friend sent you, why won't you turn on a light?"

"I've always found that people speak more openly in the dark, and it's very important that we have an honest discussion, Senator." Rakkim saw Chambers's hand stray toward the medallion around his neck. "Please don't do that. If you attempt to summon help, I might have to do something rash." He saw Chambers carefully place his hands back on top of the sheets. "Thank you, Senator."

"I…I take a certain pride in being a rational man," said Chambers. "I'm sure we can come to some kind of accommodation."

"I'm not interested in an accommodation, Senator. I'm simply here to get some answers."

"I don't…I don't understand."

"This is a very…precarious time for all of us." Rakkim watched the senator's erratic breathing, trying to get a read on him. "So much planning has gone into your appointment to secretary of defense-"

"How did you find out about that?"

"Please lower your voice."

"I asked-"

Chambers went silent as the tip of Rakkim's knife lifted his chin. "Are you capable of lowering your voice, Senator?"

"Yes," whispered Chambers, barely moving his lips.

Rakkim watched a single drop of blood run down the blade of his knife in the darkness. "Good." He removed the knife. "I know about your appointment because I work for the man who secured it for you."

Chambers dabbed at his chin with the sheet. "If you work for the president…"

Rakkim laughed softly. "Don't insult me, Senator. You know who I work for."

Chambers shook his head. "I don't…I truly don't."

Rakkim sighed, let the weariness fill the room. "Fine. You're a cautious man, and that's to be commended. Up to a point. As a cautious man you may be interested to know that someone has been looking into the deaths of those two aides of yours."

Chambers looked perplexed. Rakkim still couldn't tell if Chambers was involved with the Old One, or if he was just the good modern that he seemed to be.

"Any idea who might be making those inquiries, Senator?"