Nelson Demille - The Lion's Game

"I'm sure of it. This road is dangerous."

"The road is fine. It's the drop-offs on each side that are dangerous."

I was really tired, and I had trouble keeping awake, despite the fact that I was starting to become anxious about the road. I said to Kate, "I own a Jeep Grand Cherokee. I wish I had it now."

"It wouldn't matter if you had a tank. Do you see those drop-offs on either side of us?"

"No. Too much fog." I asked her, "Do you think we should turn around?"

"You can't turn around. You barely have room for the car."

"Right. I'm sure it widens up ahead."

"I'm sure it doesn't." She added, "Kill the headlights. The parking lights should be better."

I switched to the parking lights, which didn't reflect as much off the fog. We pushed on. I was becoming disoriented by the fog, but at least the road remained fairly straight.

Kate called out, "John! Stop!"

I hit the brakes and the car lurched to a halt. "What?" She took a deep breath and said, "You're going off a cliff."

"Really? I don't see it."

She opened the door, got out, and walked ahead of the car, trying to find the road, I guess. I could see her, but just barely, looking very spectral in the fog and parking lights. She walked off into the fog and disappeared, then came back and got into the car. She said, "Keep bearing left, then the road makes a hairpin turn to the right."

"Thanks." I continued on, and caught a glimpse of where the right edge of the blacktop ended and a very steep drop began. I said to Kate, "You have good night vision."

The fog actually got a little thinner as we climbed up the mountain, which was good because the road got a lot worse. I put the headlights back on. The road started to make hairpin turns, but I could see about ten feet in front of me now, and if I kept the speed down, I had time to react. Zig, zag, zig, zag. This really sucked. A city boy shouldn't be out here. I asked her, "Are there wild animals around here?"

"Besides you?"

"Yeah, besides me."

"Maybe bears. I don't know. I never came this far north." She added, "I think there may be mountain lions up here."

"Wow. This place really sucks. Why would the leader of the Free World want to be here?" I answered my own question and said, "Actually, it's better than Washington."

"Concentrate on the road, please."

"What road?"

"There's a road. Stay on it."

"Doing my best."

After another fifteen minutes, Kate said, "You know, I don't think they're going to send us back. They can't send us back. We'll never make it."

"Exactly."

Her cell phone rang, and she answered it, "Mayfield." She listened and said, "He can't come to the phone, Tom. He has both hands on the wheel and his nose against the windshield." She listened again and said, "That's correct. We're heading for the ranch. Okay. Yes, we'll be careful. See you in the morning. Thanks."

She hung up and said to me, "Tom says you're a lunatic."

"We've already established that. What's up?"

"Well, your special rapport with Mr. Khalil has opened the gates for us. Tom says that the Secret Service will let us into the ranch." She added, "They assumed you would drive up at dawn, but Tom will call and tell them we're on the way."

"See that? Present them with a fait accompli, and they find a way to give you permission for something you've already done. But ask for permission, and they'll find a reason to say no."

"Is this in your new manual?"

"It will be."

After another ten minutes, she asked me, "If we'd been turned back, what would you have done? What's Plan B?"

"Plan B would have been to dismount and find this ranch on foot."

"I figured. And then we'd be shot on sight."

"You can't see anyone. Not even with starlight scopes in this fog. I'm good at land navigation. You just walk uphill. Moss grows on the north side of the trees. Water runs downhill. We'd be at the ranch in no time. Over the fence and into the barn or something. No problem."

"What's the point? What do you want to accomplish?"

"I just need to be here. Here is where it's at, and here is where I need to be. It's not that complicated."

"Right. Like at Kennedy Airport."

"Exactly."

"Someday, you're going to be in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Someday I will. But not today."

She didn't reply, but looked out the side window at a rise in the land that towered over the car. She said, "I see what Lisa meant about ambush heaven. No one on this road would stand a chance."

"Hey, even without an ambush, no one on this road would stand a chance."

She rubbed her face with her hands, yawned and said, "Is this what life is going to be like with you?"

"No. There'll be some rough moments."

She laughed, or cried, or something. I thought maybe I should ask her for her gun.

The road straightened out and the incline leveled off. I had the feeling we were near the end of our journey.

A few minutes later, I noticed that up ahead the land flattened and the vegetation thinned. Then I saw a road going off to the right, but I remembered that the motel clerk had said to go to the left. Before I got to the Y in the road, a guy stepped out of the fog and put his hand up. I stopped and put my hand on my Glock, as did Kate.

The guy walked toward us, and I could see he was wearing the standard dark windbreaker with a shield pinned to it, and a baseball cap that said SECRET SERVICE. I lowered my window, and he came up to the driver's side and said, "Please step out of the car, and keep your hands where I can see them."

This was usually my line, and I knew the drill.

Kate and I got out of the car, and the guy said, "I guess I know who you are, but I need to see some identification. Slowly, please." He added, "We are covered."

I showed him my ID, which he examined with a flashlight, then looked at Kate's, then shined the light on the license plate.

Satisfied that we fit the description of a man and a woman in a blue Ford whose names were the same as two Federal agents who were on the way to this location on the most fucked-up road this side of the Himalayas, he said, "Good evening I'm Fred Potter, Secret Service."

Kate replied in the brief second before I could think of something sarcastic. She said, "Good evening. I assume you're expecting us."

"Well," said Fred, "I was expecting you'd be at the bottom of a ravine by now with your wheels spinning. But you made it."

Again, Kate, in a pre-emptive bid to keep my mouth shut, said, "It wasn't that bad. But I wouldn't want to try it downhill tonight."

"No, you wouldn't. And you don't have to. I have orders to escort you to the ranch."

I said, "You mean there's more of this road?"

"Not much more. You want me to drive?"

"No," I replied. "This is an FBI-only car."

"I'll get in the front."

We all got into the car, Kate in the back, Fred in the front. Fred said, "Bear left."

"Bear? Where?"

"I mean… go left. Over there."

So, my silliness indulged, I went to the left, noticing two more guys, with rifles, standing near the road. We were indeed covered.

Fred said, "Keep it about thirty. The road is straight, and we need to go another couple hundred yards up Pennsylvania Avenue before we come to a gate."

" Pennsylvania Avenue? I really got lost."

Fred didn't laugh. He said, "This part of Refugio Road is called Pennsylvania Avenue. Renamed in eighty-one."

"That's neat. So, how are Ron and Nancy?"

"We don't discuss that," Fred informed me.

Fred, I sensed, was not a fun guy.

Within a minute or so, we approached a set of stone pillars between which was a closed iron gate no more than chest high. From either side of the pillars ran a low wire fence. Two men, dressed as Fred was dressed, and carrying rifles, stood behind the pillars. Fred said, "Stop here."