Iris Johansen - Dead Aim

"Don't try to give me a guilt trip. All I want is to be left alone."

"So did all those people at Arapahoe Junction."

"It wasn't his fault."

Alex wasn't getting anywhere. Try to find a hole in the armor. "I can understand how you'd want to be left alone. You're a scientist, aren't you? You study dolphins?"

"Yes."

"I have a friend, Sarah, who has a search-and-rescue dog. Monty's wonderful. Sometimes I think I like him better than I do most people. Maybe you feel like that too."

"Is that supposed to soften me up?" She was silent a moment. "If you want to talk to me any more, it won't be on the telephone. Come to the island."

"It's difficult for us to travel, as you can imagine. It may be impossible." "Then forget it. It's difficult for me too. I don't care about your problems. I care about Phil. And I need to see your face." "How the heck do you expect us to get there? We can't move about freely."

"Come to the island." She hung up.

"She wants us to come to her," Alex told Morgan. "And I think it might be worth the trip. She wouldn't say whether Lontana was there, but she was very defensive. Can we manage to get to her without getting caught?"

"It's risky."

"I know it's risky. Do you think I'm an idiot? Can we do it?" He thought about it. "With Galen and Logan pulling out all the stops, we have a good chance they can smuggle us down there. But we'd still be a hell of a lot safer right here."

"And we'll be safe right up to the time when they blow up another dam and kill more people. Get us there. If she knows anything at all that can help, then it's worth going." She moistened her lips. "Do you remember what you told me about having a feeling when Runne was near? Well, that's the way I feel about Z-2 or Z-3 or whatever: It's going to happen. And it's going to happen soon."

"You're preaching to the converted. I was just giving you the possible consequences." He added, "And wondering if maybe I shouldn't go down there alone. You could go to Galen and Elena and-"

"No."

He sighed. "That's what I thought. I'll call Galen."

The White House

"You're not eating." Andreas smiled at Chelsea across the candlelit table. "Fred's going to be upset and blame me. He always thinks it's my fault if you don't have an appetite."

"That doesn't surprise me. Why shouldn't that be your fault too?" He slowly put down his fork and leaned back in the chair.

"Would you like to explain that remark?" "Not particularly." She took a sip of her wine. "I have to have my own secrets. Why should we share confidences? After all, we've only been married a decade or so." She was glittering, barbed, and he'd better be very careful. "Would you like me to tell you exactly how long we've been married? I know it down to the minute." He stared her directly in the eye. "Because every minute has been a treasure." She finally tore her gaze away. "Damn you. Why do you have to be so goddamn sincere? It's not fair."

"You're angry with me. May I ask why?"

"I didn't think it would be like this when you ran for the presidency. I knew it would be tough and I was willing to go for the long haul. But I didn't know everyone in the country would believe you were some kind of god." She waved a hand. "Andreas points his finger and lightning flashes. He touches a child and hunger vanishes."

"What are you saying?"

"What do you think?" Her eyes shone with unshed tears.

"I'm scared to death. Since September eleventh you mean too much to too many people. That's why Matanza is so determined to kill you. They can strike a blow at the entire country by murdering you."

"Cordoba's only threatened, Chelsea. I've been threatened before." "But he's getting closer. If he wasn't getting closer, then you wouldn't have sicced Nancy Shepard on me."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Don't you dare be evasive. You know very well that you told her to ask me to kick off the National Foundation for Abused Children's fund-raiser in Pittsburgh. Did you think I wouldn't guess?"

"No, but I hoped you'd pretend you didn't." "Why?"

"Because it would have made it easier for both of us." "I'm not going anywhere. I told her to get someone else." He shook his head. "You're going to Pittsburgh."

"I'm not leaving you."

"You'll go." He smiled. "Because if you don't, I'll tell Nancy Shepard that I'll kick off the drive. I'll travel to every large city in the Northeast. I'll speak at convention centers and whistle stops. I'll shake hands and go to-"

"No!"

"Make your choice. You or me." "You're safe here."

"Nowhere is perfectly safe, Chelsea."

"Okay, I know that. Why do you think I didn't argue when you sent the children away? But you're much safer here. Keller can control the security as long as you don't leave your ordinary stamping grounds."

"You or me."

"Damn you." She drew a long shaky breath. "Me." "You'll do a wonderful job, my love."

"Yes, I will." Her voice was uneven. "And don't you dare let them kill you and make you a martyr while I'm gone. You know I look ghastly in black."

The huge net was stretched from shore to shore across the entire opening of the inlet and four feet above the surface of the water.

"So what do we do now?" Alex murmured. "Cut the net?"

Morgan shook his head. "We wait." He cut the motor of the speedboat. "You called and left a message we were coming. It's her move."

"We may be out here awhile." Her gaze fastened on the small stone-and-wood house hugging the shore. Christ, this was a beautiful place. Jewel-blue water, green mountains, and tropical breezes swaying the trees. It was like something from a travel brochure. "I don't see any sign of stirring. Maybe we should try shouting or making- There's someone." A woman had appeared from around the back of the house and was heading for the pier. Or Alex guessed she was a woman. She wore khaki shorts and a T-shirt, and her feet were bare. She was small and delicately built, with the shining fair hair usually seen in small children. But there was nothing fragile or childlike about the way she jumped into the motorboat at the pier and took off. She breathed competence, forcefulness, and vitality as she gunned the boat toward them.

She stopped fifteen yards on the other side of the net and studied them.

She was stunning, Alex realized, and no child. She was probably in her mid-twenties. Huge dark eyes and features that combined delicacy and boldness to form an extraordinary face. The boldness was definitely on the ascent in the cool glance she was giving Alex. "Alex Graham?"

Alex nodded.

"You don't look like the picture they have of you on CNN." "God, I hope not. You're Melis Nemid?"

The woman nodded.

"Then how do you know what I look like on CNN? I thought you told me you never watched the news."

"I don't. But I had to make sure you were who you said you were."

"Are you satisfied?"

"That you're Alex Graham and that you're up to your ass in trouble? Yes." Her gaze narrowed on Morgan. "But you may be in bad company."

Alex shook her head. "I'd be in a hell of a lot more trouble if he hadn't been around. You can trust him."

"Ah, trust at last," Morgan murmured.

"I don't trust either of you." Melis Nemid was silent a moment and then shrugged. "But I don't have much choice." She started the boat and came slowly toward the net, skimming beside it until she reached a spot a few yards from where Alex and Morgan waited. She bent over the side of the boat, and a moment later a ten-foot-wide section of wire net fell to the surface. "Start your motor and then cut it when you reach the net and coast over," she called.

Morgan obeyed, and the moment they were on the other side of the net Melis Nemid rehooked it and drew the rope that lifted it to its former height. Then she was turning the boat and speeding back toward the shore.