“Here we go again,” he said kindly. “Sorry, Katie.”
The driver sped off and the man next to him, big and burly, turned to face her, a large gun in hand.
Caesar smiled and said, “Glad to have you with us, Ms. James.”
Katie looked startled, but then something jabbed her in the arm. She looked down at the syringe sticking out of her. And then at Royce who was pushing the plunger all the way down. As the meds hit her bloodstream, Katie slumped over in the seat.
Royce pulled the needle out and nodded at Caesar.
Caesar said, “Bugs?”
Royce expertly searched Katie for surveillance devices and shook his head.
Caesar handed Royce a battery-operated saw, which he used to cut off Katie’s cast. Royce checked it over minutely and shook his head again.
The truck slowed to a stop, Royce got out, and tossed the split cast into a passing garbage truck. He climbed back in. “If the cast is bugged, they’ll be on a jolly nice detour now. Hit it!”
The driver punched the gas and the Suburban shot forward, hung a left, and was gone.
Eight hours later the private plane touched down on a remote airfield in Italy. A truck pulled up next to the aircraft and a box was loaded onto it from the plane. Several men got in the truck and it rolled off. An hour after that it arrived at the Italian seaside, the Mediterranean moodily aglow under a setting sun. A launch carried the box, Caesar, Royce, and several other men out to the Shiloh.
The crew had been given the evening off. Only the captain remained on board, and he was sequestered on the upper bridge. Special visitors of a sensitive nature had been the only explanation given to the man. He didn’t ask for another.
Nicolas Creel was sitting in the ship’s library surrounded by first-edition books he’d purchased over the years, and unlike some collectors he’d actually read them. When the door opened and the box was brought in he didn’t smile. He actually felt as though he would never smile again.
He nodded at Royce. “Good work. I never had any doubts your association would pay off for me.”
“Pleasure, Mr. Creel. MI5 never saw my potential. And certainly never paid me fairly for it.”
Creel looked at Caesar. “Shall we let the illustrious Ms. James join us?”
The big man opened the box and lifted Katie out. She was just coming to. Caesar laid her on a table. The men stood there until she sat up and looked around.
“Welcome, Katie,” Creel said. “I may call you Katie? I feel like I know you so well even though we’ve never even met.”
Katie slipped off the table and dropped into a chair. She rubbed her head and grimaced as she clutched her arm. “Where the hell’s my cast?”
Royce said, “We thought it best to remove it. GPS devices can be embedded in such things.”
“It was just a damn cast, you idiot.” Katie held up her arm where the break in the skin was clearly visible.
“So you say.”
She turned her attention back to Creel. “But I do know you,” she said. “Nicolas Creel. Any journalist worth her salt would know you.”
“I’m flattered. Yet you don’t seem altogether surprised.”
“Once I’d thought out a few things the list of suspects narrowed considerably.” She glanced at Royce. “His involvement I didn’t figure on, though.”
Creel did smile now. “Of course not. But one must always have a safety valve. An inside source. And Mr. Royce shares my view of how the world should be. A view that you have now effectively destroyed. I can’t even imagine how much you’ve cost mankind.”
“What I’ve cost it? By stopping China and Russia from going to war?”
“There was never going to be a war, you fool!” Creel roared. “The cold war was the safest period humanity has ever lived through. My plan would have liberated the world. That’s right, I was a liberator,” he snapped, as Katie stared at him incredulously. “Now you’ve ensured that we will be ruled for eternity by savages who have no regard for human life. They have toppled all balance, crushed all possibility of diplomacy. We are as close to global annihilation as we have ever been, thanks to you, Katie James.” He said her name as though it was the most repellent two words that had ever passed his lips.
“Yeah, I’m sure that has you bummed. But I’m thinking you’re really pissed about losing out on all those weapon dollars.”
“I have enough money, I can assure you. But Theodore Roosevelt had it right. Speak softly and carry a big stick. America’s greatest presidents knew that military power was the key to everything. Everything!”