Part 40 (1/2)

What had changed?

The Rover's position, for one.

Or had someone adjusted its controller, wherever that was?

This was going to take more investigation, and under better conditions than these.

Tomorrow... he'd spend all tomorrow figuring this out. And looking for the box that belonged to that key.

Jack returned to the room, taking the truck with him. He didn't want to leave it in the car overnight. Who knew?

Someone wandering through the lot might spot it and rip it off.

He slipped back into the room as quietly as he could. He could make out Alicia's form under the covers, curled into the fetal position.

What are you hiding from? he wondered.

He felt a mixture of admiration and pity for her-and he knew she'd resent the pity like all h.e.l.l, but still, that was what he felt. Somewhere, somehow, she'd been terribly damaged, and he pitied anyone who'd been scarred so deeply. But she'd waged-was still waging, apparently-a valiant battle against the effects of whatever had been done to her.

Maybe tonight had been too much for her. Maybe he shouldn't have insisted she come along.

But what other options had he had? She'd lived in that house, and he'd needed her help.

Still, he got a cold knot in his stomach when he looked at that fetal lump, curled and coc.o.o.ned so defensively against the world.

How would she be when she awoke tomorrow morning?

Jack flopped back on the other bed and stared at the stained ceiling, wondering about that until sleep claimed him.

Kemel Muhallal sat with shaking hands and trembling insides. He felt as if he were on a jet racing through an endless storm.

He slumped on the couch in his apartment, too disheartened for prayer, too exhausted to drag himself to the bedroom.

For the first time since his arrival in this thrice-cursed land, he harbored doubts about the outcome of his mission. He had expected some difficulty, certainly, in securing the Clayton technology, but never this much. The Clayton woman had enlisted the devil himself as her ally.

When he had noticed her car gone, he had wanted to use the tracer to chase after her, but could not. The bodies... all the bodies had to be removed before the police arrived. He, Baker, and the two surviving members of Baker's team had had to carry them to the van. Then they had had to flee, running like jackals in the night.

A harrowing, humiliating experience.

But it all would have been worth it had he learned if Alicia Clayton and her devil had discovered anything in the house.

And what of the sale of that house? Haffner had sent word to her attorney that her price would be met. No response yet. Would she respond at all after tonight?

If not, the whole process would be set back weeks. And what would that mean for Ghali? Kemel had to get home to help his son.

Kemel tugged at his beard. He was being pulled in so many directions. What was he to do do!

Should he fail to secure the Clayton technology, he then must make sure no one else got it.

Be calm, he told himself for the ten thousandth time since he had stepped through the door.

But how could he be calm when tomorrow morning he might pick up a newspaper and see a headline announcing the Clayton technology to the world?

He shuddered at the repercussions to his homeland, at the thought of the entire Middle East returning to the Saudi Arabia of his father, who had made his own shoes and lived with his fellow bedouin in goat-hair tents or in mud huts cl.u.s.tered around oases, with no electricity, no medication, no medical care. That was Arab life before the 1960s. That was what his own life-and his sons'-would be if he failed in his quest.

He wished he could pa.s.s this burden to someone more used to dealing with these matters, but secrecy was so tantamount to success-they could lose everything if even a whisper of the nature of the technology leaked out-that the leaders of Iswid Nahr had forbidden anyone else, even another member of Iswid Nahr, from being told.

Kemel Muhallal had been present when Thomas Clayton brought Iswid Nahr proof of his father's technology. Why had he felt blessed by Allah that day? It had been a curse. Because he was among the very few who knew the secret, the burden of resolving the matter had fallen upon his shoulders.

Kemel squared those shoulders. He must not despair. He was not yet defeated. He must trust in Allah and believe that Alicia Clayton and her devil had learned nothing.

And on the subject of devils, what was he going to do with his own devil... Baker? Kemel had lost all faith in the man, but the day might be approaching when he would have to make use of his brute nature and crude tactics.

For Kemel knew that if he and Iswid Nahr could not secure the Clayton technology, then he must destroy that technology, and eliminate everyone who knew about it.

WEDNESDAY.

”No,” Alicia said. ”Out of the question. I've got to go to the hospital.”

Are all women so headstrong? Jack wondered as he watched the ferry dock recede through the condensation-fogged gla.s.s. Or just all the ones I happen to know?

He and Alicia sat with their coffees in the pa.s.senger area of the first morning ferry out of Orient Point. The Chevy rested with the other cars below.

”Alicia-”

”Look, I've got patients and-oh, h.e.l.l.”

She yanked open her shoulder bag and fished inside until she came up with a cell phone.

”What's wrong?” Jack said.

”I want to call in.”

He looked out the window as she dialed. The sky was a crisp blue and winter clear, but the Long Island Sound lay gray and choppy around them. He turned back to her when she mentioned ”Hector,” and watched her expression grow grim. She ended the call and squeezed her eyes shut.

”Bad news?” he said.

She kept her eyes closed. ”Hector got shocky last night, then he crashed again. We're losing him.”

”Aw, jeez.” His chest tightened as he remembered that big smile, and so proud of his ”buth cut.” So full of life, and now...

”I should have been there.”

”I can appreciate how you feel,” he said.