The Ring Man turned to the other occupant of the room. "Are you familiar with the situation with this mysterious American?"
Ariel nodded. "Ponte briefed me."
"What would you do now?"
The Israeli leaned forward in his seat. "We must seize the initiative. I would take the woman now. Find out where the man is from her. If you wait, you leave the initiative up to the opponent. That is unacceptable in war. This man has killed quite a few of our people. Who knows what he is up to at this very minute. There is a purpose to his actions but we don't know what that purpose is. Maybe it has something to do with the American soldier we hold prisoner here."
Ring Man agreed. "I like your reasoning. I do not like letting this American lead us in a foolish chase." He turned to Ponte. "Get the woman and bring her here. From her we will find out where her man is and then get him too."
Ponte nodded weakly and stood up, dismissed. As he headed for the door he was stopped by Ring Man's cold voice. "This is your last chance, my friend. Do not fail."
Alegre looked up as two distant booms rattled the windows of his office. A few minutes later the door swung open and Montez strode in. "What was that?"
Montez sighed. "Two bombs went off at the Supreme Court building. We're not sure yet how many were killed. It is bad, my President."
Alegre closed his eyes and said a brief prayer for the dead and wounded. "Bring in additional troops."
"My President, we have already brought in three battalions. They cannot guard everything and be everywhere. There is suspicion that some of the troops have been planting the bombs. The commander of the army just called and said he could not afford to remove any more troops from fighting the rebels."
Alegre stood up. "I must go and see what has happened. I must make my presence known to the people and give them confidence that we will win this war."
Montez put out a hand and grabbed his old friend. "You will die if you leave here. That is what they are waiting for. You must stay inside. This is the only place you are safe."
Alegre threw the hand off angrily. "Am I prisoner in my own home? In my own country? The president is unable to leave his palace because he will be killed if he does?"
"I am sorry, my friend. That is the way things are unless something happens soon in our favor."
Riley watched the car roll down the driveway and pass through the gates of the grounds. He tracked it through the scope to where it pulled onto the main road and headed toward downtown Bogota. He wondered who was in the car and where they were going.
He checked his watch. Another four hours until he started down the hill to meet up with Westland.
Hanks slammed his desktop. "What the hell is she doing?" Strom shook his head. The news that Westland was a loose cannon running around Colombia wasn't going over very well.
The director fumed. "She's finished. You get on the horn and tell Jameson to reel her in."
Strom protested weakly. "But she's handling Riley." "Correction. She was handling Riley. I want her ass up here tonight. Jameson can take over."
Strom didn't want to, but he felt he needed to point things out. "I'm not sure Riley will still do the mission if we yank Westland."
Hanks considered that for a few moments as he let his temper cool. "All right. She stays until it's over. But I want Jameson with her from here on out. Call him and tell him to get his ass over to where she is and stay with her. He's not to let her out of his sight."
Westland stirred in her sleep. She cracked open her eyes as she tried to focus on what had awakened her. There it was again. Someone trying the doorknob. Westland's eyes flew wide open as she rolled off the bed, pulling the Beretta out from underneath the pillow as she went. Her heart was pounding as she centered the sights on the door.
She released the safety and curled her finger around the trigger, applying pressure. She tried to slow her rapid breathing. The lock turned and the door started to swing open. She was halfway through the five pounds of pressure needed to fire the gun when she recognized the figure in the door.
Jameson stopped in surprise at the sight of the muzzle aimed at his forehead. "Whoa! I'm one of the good guys."
Westland stood up, putting the pistol down on the bed. "Jesus Christ. Don't you believe in knocking? How the hell did you open that lock?"
Jameson dangled a key from his hand. "I made the arrangements, remember? Don't you think I'd have an extra key?" He shut the door behind him, strolled over to the balcony doors, and peered out. Then he turned back to the room. He winked at her. "You and Riley pretty cozy here?"
Westland was still frazzled from the near shooting and in no mood for his intimations. "What the hell do you want?"
Jameson was enjoying himself. "You are screwing up big time, girl. Your little escapade at the embassy has pissed off some very important people. The only reason you're not getting on a plane back to the States is because they're not sure Riley would still do the job without you and your, uh, shall we say assets? But from here on out I've been ordered to baby-sit you." He grinned. "Kind of a ménage à trois, eh?"
He was still grinning as the door burst open. Jameson's reactions were slow but his presence was enough to distract the men coming in. They hadn't expected anyone other than the woman.
Westland dove for the floor, putting the bed between herself and the intruders. As she hit the ground she remembered that the Beretta was still lying on top of the bed. Near the window, Jameson was belatedly reaching for his gun, inconveniently located in a holster in the small of his back. He was still reaching as the first man through the door blew the agent out the balcony doors and over the railing with a sustained burst from his Ingram MAC-10.
Westland slid underneath the bed. Looking to her right she saw the legs of three men enter the room. One of them called to her. "Come out, little lady. You left your gun on the bed. We just want to talk to you."
The man who had blown away Jameson kneeled down and peered under the bed. His eyes opened wide momentarily as he saw the black hole of the muzzle of the Colt Python pointing right at his forehead. Westland's round blew off the top half of his head.
The other two men stared in surprise. That gave Westland the time to roll back out from under the bed on the far side. The two men angrily emptied their magazines into the bed, sending feathers flying. As soon as she heard the clicks of their bolts sliding forward onto an empty chamber, Kate rose up to a kneeling position. The two sicarios stared slack jawed at this apparition of death.
She fired one round through each man's forehead.
Linders nodded as he spoke into the phone. "Yes, that's right. I verify the orders General Pike showed you. He's working on direct vocal orders from the chairman."
"What about the comm link?"
"Didn't Pike give you one?"
"No."
"I guess I'll have the normal setup prepped here, then. I'll have the comm channel opened up starting at 0600 tomorrow morning. Will that give you plenty of time for your checks?"
"It ought to. Who's the verifier?"
Linders frowned. "I imagine it's the chairman. Didn't Pike give you that?"
"He said it was operating according to something he called the Hammer strikes."
Linders paused in thought. "All right. I guess they'll be picking you up over at Belvoir then for the comm link. I was wondering why he hadn't given you that. Is Pike still around down there?"