“One thing, Kirk,” Kathleen said. “Are you sure that Salman and Khalil are the same man? Because I am. It was his eyes.”
That was another question McGarvey had wrestled with since Monaco. Half the time he was sure they were one and the same, but the other half he just couldn’t be sure. One thing was certain, he thought; ten minutes alone with the prince and he would find out.
“I think so,” he told his wife. He turned back to his daughter again. “Where do Otto and I meet?”
“Right here, at the fifteenth fairway shelter.” It was across the creek, next to the maintenance barn and access road. Liz looked at her watch. “He should be getting there in the next twenty minutes.”
“It’ll give me time to change,” McGarvey said. “In the meantime I want you two to stick it out here. Anything comes your way, call for backup. But I think you’ll be okay. It’s me he wants now.”
“What if someone calls for you?” Kathleen asked.
McGarvey grinned viciously. “Tell them I’m in the shower.”
FIFTY-THREE
Kathleen McGarvey was fifty and pregnant, in her mind a sublimely ridiculous combination, but she was not an invalid. Her husband was off trying to find a key to lure Prince Salman into the open so he could be taken down, and she had an idea that she knew where to find it.
Kirk was only one man. That was Karen Shaw’s take. And she was correct. Despite his abilities, despite his heart, he was one lone man against an organization that had brought down the World Trade Center towers. On top of that he did not have the active support of his own government.
After Kirk left to meet Otto, Kathleen had changed into a pale cream pants suit with a plain white blouse, brushed her hair, and put on some makeup. She was just finishing when Liz came to the bedroom door.
“You look nice, Mom, but what are you doing?” Liz said.
Kathleen put on a pair of small, gold hoop earrings as she watched her daughter’s reflection in the dresser mirror. Elizabeth would be the toughest hurdle “Getting ready to go out.”
“No,” Liz blurted.
Kathleen turned to face her daughter with a look of mild amusement. “What did you say?”
“Dad wants us to stay put,” Liz answered. She looked determined.
“Your father is out laying his life on the line. Once again. Your husband is helping with security. The FBI, the police, the National Guard are all out doing their duty, trying to stop the monsters.Yet you and I are simply going to sit here and do nothing?” Kathleen shook her head. “I don’t think so, sweetheart.” She smiled. “Is that what you want to do?”
“I think we should stay here,” Liz replied, with a little less certainty.
“We’re either going to be a part of the problem or a part of the solution. And I do not want to be in the former category.” What she wanted to do was right; she was convinced of it. “You weren’t on the cruise ship. You didn’t witness what those monsters are capable of doing. I did.” She got her purse and went to her daughter.
“Goddammit, Mother.”
Kathleen brushed a strand of hair off her daughter’s forehead. “Don’t swear, please; it’s ugly. I simply want you to take a drive with me into Georgetown. I want to have a quick peek at something, and we’ll come right back.”
“At what?” Liz asked, crossly.
“Get a jacket or something to cover up your gun, and I’ll tell you on the way,” Kathleen said. She gave her daughter a peck on the cheek, then brushed past her. “We’ll take my car. I’ll drive and you can ride shotgun.”
If the truth be told, Elizabeth much preferred doing something to sitting around the house guarding her mother from an attack that probably wasn’t going to happen.
In any event, providing any real security against a determined attack at the house would be impossible to do alone. One gun was simply not enough of a deterrent.
The car was a smoked silver Mercedes 560SL, which Kathleen drove fast and impatiently. “We’re going to take a quick look at Darby Yarnell’s old house,” she said.
“He’s dead,” Elizabeth said. “Somebody else owns it.” She had seen the entire file a couple of years ago when she had gone looking into her father’s past. But the business of her mother having an affair had not been included. She’d learned of it for the first time two days ago, and her gut still hadn’t recovered from knowing that her mother was not perfect after all.
They headed out of Chevy Chase on Connecticut Avenue, crossing over to Wisconsin Avenue atTenley Circle, traffic almost back to normal despite the bin Laden threat.
“Do you know who owns it?” Kathleen asked, glancing at her daughter. “The Saudi government,” she said without waiting for a reply. “It’s a think tank.”
Elizabeth had not known that part. There was no reason for her to have gone looking. But it made sense, especially if Khalil was a Saudi. And all of a sudden it dawned on her what her mother was attempting to do, and her blood ran cold.
“Turn around now, Mother,” she said. “We’re going back home.”
“No,” Kathleen said. They were passing the U.S. Naval Observatory grounds on their left. The vice president lived there, and a pair of National Guard Armored Personnel Carriers were parked on the main driveway. Directly across the avenue were the embassies of Fiji and three other small countries.
“I’m serious. We are not going to Yarnell’s old house, because I know what you want to do, and I’m not going to let you.”
Kathleen was unfazed. “If you know that much, then you know why I have to do this for your father. Khalil might not come to the house after me, but if he sees me parked outside his front door, he might try something. The second anything starts to happen, we’ll get out of there and let your father know.”
“That’s my point,” Elizabeth said, frantically. This was sheer madness. “What am I supposed to do if they come out guns blazing?”
“They wouldn’t do that in the middle of Georgetown in the middle of a sunny morning.”
“Well, if they do, you could get us both killed,” Elizabeth shouted. “All three of us,” she added, bitterly, knowing whatever she could say was going to do no good.
“Somebody has to stop him before it’s too late,” Kathleen said. “At least we have to try.”
Khalil was in the second-floor operations center, where a detailed street map of Chevy Chase was displayed on a wide-screen computer monitor, while on another, photographs of Kathleen McGarvey scrolled down the screen. With him were the four security officers who al-Kaseem had assigned to him for the kidnapping. At this moment their driver was parked in a garage around the block in a Comcast Cable truck that they would take to the McGarvey house. They would neutralize whatever security was in place and grab Kathleen McGarvey.
Key to the operation would be making sure that Kirk McGarvey wasn’t home. Khalil did not want to go up against the man again, not without the leverage that holding the man’s wife hostage would give him. They were working on the surveillance operation to do just that.
There could be no mistakes because McGarvey would move heaven and earth to protect her. He’d already demonstrated that. But if his wife were to be taken to an absolutely secure location, his effectiveness as a player in this little drama would be neutralized.
The revenge would be sweet. Especially after the attacks when Kathleen McGarvey would be returned to her husband. When her body would be returned.