The door opened again and Khalil came in. “You have decided to cooperate?”
She looked into his cobra eyes, and the words stuck in her throat. She nodded.
SIXTY-ONE
There was no traffic on the lake road, the sun low behind the mountains to the west, and Liese drove recklessly, on her way into a situation that would not only get her fired, but could also send her to jail or even to her grave. Her eyes were full and her heart ached, but she felt no fear.
This was for Kirk, even though she finally knew that she would never have him.
Prince Salman’s call to the compound had come up on one of the monitors, and Ziegler had recorded it along with Sergeant Hoenecker’s simultaneous translation just as Liese was getting set to head out. She had no idea what it meant that Salman was suddenly leaving Washington. It made no sense if he’d gone there in the first place to confront McGarvey, and if he had kidnapped Kirk’s wife.
But the prince was returning to Switzerland, and before Liese had left the chalet, Hoenecker was on the phone to Gertner, the one man that Liese did not want to speak to.
Her telephone buzzed against her hip. It was Gertner already trying to reach her. She had told no one she was leaving, or where she was going. She had just slipped out of the chalet and driven off.
She let the call roll over to the answering machine in her apartment. They wouldn’t have long to wait before they found out where she had gone, and then the clock would start. It was possible she would not be able to get in, and it was equally possible that seeing what she was up to, Gertner might order a raid on the compound. Not to rescue her, but to arrest her.
Liese wanted to pull over to the side of the road and close her eyes and her mind to the world around her. But that had become impossible on the very first day she had laid eyes on Kirk, and had instantly fallen head over heels in love. Marta had called it a schoolgirl crush, an infatuation, but now more than ten years later she still felt the same. She was miserable.
Taking her pistol out of her purse, she stuck it in the waistband of her jeans and pulled her jacket down so that it was hidden. Any time a weapon was introduced into a situation, there was a danger that someone would get hurt. But she was a professional, and so were the security people at the prince’s compound, which reduced the odds of an accident. The last thing she wanted was to hurt the prince’s wife or his children. He might be a terrorist, but they were innocent.
Do it now, she thought, before Gertner sends someone.
A cool breeze came down from the mountain passes, and the sailing fleet was back on the lake, the spinnakers ballooned out as they raced toward the downwind mark. She caught glimpses of them through the trees as she drove around the bay and then headed back up the private road to the Salman compound at the end of the narrow peninsula jutting out into the lake.
Peaceful. It was the only word Liese could think of. And it stuck in her mind how far away this place was from America, which was facing another 9/11. The Swiss had always been the neutrals. But not this time, she thought.
And for that there would be a scapegoat.
Prince Salman’s compound consisted of the main sprawling chalet with two separate living wings one for the prince and the other for his wife and children. There were several outbuildings, including two garages, living quarters for the security and house staff, a maintenance shed, a boathouse, and a long dock at the foot of the shallow hill.
Most of the year it was only the wife and the staff who were in residence. The children were normally away at boarding school, and the prince himself came home only a few times each year, usually to stay no longer than a week or two.
Except during the major terrorist strikes. Each time he withdrew his children from school and hunkered down with his family for a month or more. They would play on the lake aboard one of several powerboats and sailboats, or go into town to the theater or to dinner. Sometimes they even left the compound to take trips up into the mountain resort towns, just like ordinary tourists.
Not a terrorist and his family Not a monster who the world feared and loathed. Not bin Laden’s number-one lieutenant and killer.
A couple of hundred meters down from the house, which was hidden from view by the trees, the road was blocked by a security gate with a closed-circuit television camera and intercom system. Liese pulled up, took her police wallet with badge and ID card out of her purse, lowered her window, and pushed the intercom button. She held up the open wallet to the camera.
Almost immediately a man’s voice, speaking heavily accented French, came from the grille. “Good afternoon, Officer Fuelm. What is the business of the Swiss police here?”
“I have a message for Mrs. Salman,” Liese said. She could imagine the confusion now among her colleagues across the bay. Hoenecker would be on the phone to Gertner.
“Give me the message. I will make sure that madam receives it.”
“I don’t know who you are, though I’m assuming that you’re one of her security people. But this message is for her alone, and I have been instructed to give it only to her.” The only chance she had of pulling this off in the time Kirk wanted was to get through the gate and up to the house. If this failed, her only other option would be to come back tonight after dark and either breach the perimeter fence, or approach the compound from the water. Kirk would understand.
“That’s quite impossible, Sergeant. The Madam is not at home—”
“She’s not only at home, but her children were recalled from school and are there with her. In addition, her husband, the prince, will very soon be en route from Washington. I must speak with her right now.”
The security staff personnel were all Saudi private contractors, exmilitary or intelligence officers, who understood that their presence on Swiss soil with weapons was strictly illegal. The authorities turned a blind eye to this disregard for Swiss law because of Prince Salman’s political and financial importance, and only so long as there were no incidents. They also understood now, if they didn’t know before, that the comings and goings at the compound were being monitored.
In the past there had been no trouble, and the staff had very probably been ordered to be cooperative. Liese was counting on it. Just as she was counting on them not to make any show of force. Most of the staff would be out of sight.
The speaker grille was silent for several seconds.
“Very well,” the security officer said. “The princess will receive you.”
“I will need to see the children as well,” Liese said. “This is a matter concerning the school.”
There was another brief pause.
“Very well. Do not stop or deviate from the road, s’il vous plaît.”
The electric gate swung inward, and Liese started up the driveway to the house, her gut tied in a knot. This situation had all the earmarks of a disaster in the making. But she had come this far and she would see it through. And considering what Kirk was facing in Washington and what the entire U.S. was staring down the barrel at, this move could work to avert another tremendous disaster.
As the road came out of the woods and the main house came into view, Liese glanced across the bay. LeFevre would be at the spotter scope looking at her face. She tried to will him a message not to let Gertner do anything stupid. All she needed was a few minutes. Once she was in and had control of the situation, there was little any of them could do.
Kirk had promised that he would need only a few hours. It would be up to her to hold out that long, and make sure that no one got hurt.