Black Harvest (The PROJECT) (27 page)

Selena took a breath. "That's criminal."

"That's war planning. The days of polite warfare are over. If there's a next one it will be total."

"War is a criminal act."

"Yes, Major, it is. So why have you and some of the others in this room prepared so well for it?"

"To defend our nation. From aggressors like Dansinger and Lodge."

Hood nodded. "Exactly. War initiated may be a criminal act, but war in defense of one's nation is an act of patriotism and honor. Unfortunately, soldiers pay the price for their leaders' greed and bad judgement."

Elizabeth brought them back into focus. "We're getting off the track. What do you actually know about this organization? Dansinger's?"

"Not much. There are hints of something but you can't track them down. Financial lines that disappear when you follow them. Political decisions that seem justified but erode freedom everywhere. Economic policies that concentrate wealth in the hands of a few. Cover ups.  Facilities that appear intended for one thing but may be for another. Increased surveillance in every city. Much of it is here in the US, but it seems to be international. I know it's powerful and influential. I know it means us and everyone else no good."

"You are suggesting something along the line of a New World Order conspiracy."

"That's as good a name for it as anything else. I think the Demeter plot was part of a larger plan."

"But you have no proof."

"No."

"If this group exists, I don't think they're going to be very happy with what's happened in the last few days."

"I think you can count on that, Director. We'd all better watch our step."

CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX

Nick, Korov, Lamont and Ronnie sat at a back table in The Point, a bar favored by Special Ops personnel, active and retired. The place was busy. A bottle of vodka sat on the table. Ronnie had a coke in front of him. The others had empty four ounce glasses. Korov poured them full.

"In Russia, this is how we do it." He held up his full glass. "
Na Z
'
drovnya
. To your health." He downed the glass in a single gulp, waited to see if they would follow. Lamont and Nick held their glasses up. Ronnie lifted his coke. He never drank alcohol.

"
Na Z
'drov
nya
. Down the hatch." They drank. Korov filled the glasses again.

"Down the hatch?"

"Another idiom. We have lots of them."

"So do we."

They sipped.

"I return to Moscow tomorrow."

"What did your boss say, when you told him what happened?"

"He was impressed. As am I. We did not believe you would actually remove your CIA Director. The solution was elegant. He is pleased that the plot has been stopped."

"What do his bosses know?"

"That General Vysotsky has acted brilliantly to foil a threat against the Rodina. That the American CIA is in disarray. That one of his agents has successfully engaged with a secretive American intelligence unit and gained their trust."

"That would be you?"

Korov placed his hand over his heart and made a slight bow. He drained his glass. Nick filled it, then his own.

"Yeah, you'll probably get a medal," Lamont said.

"Maybe I have Vysotsky send you one."

They laughed. The bar was filling with men. Most of them had the look.

"This is a good place. If you come to Moscow I will show you a place like this."

"We might not be welcome."

"With me, you will be welcome." He made rings on the table with his wet glass.

"Nick. I hope we are never on, how you say, the opposite side."

"Maybe this will open a crack in the door. Our nations should not be enemies."

"But it is the way of things, is it not? When both countries want the same thing, there is trouble."

"Not if that thing is to our mutual benefit. Like what we did here."

"If Hood is right," Ronnie said, "we could be working together again. Nothing like a common enemy to make new friends."

Two hours later the second bottle was empty. Korov was singing a Spetsnaz marching song and trying to teach Nick and Lamont the words. Ronnie just shook his head. They were attracting attention. A large man walked over to them. He'd been drinking. It was the kind of bar where people drank a lot.

"Who's your Russki friend? He doesn't belong here."

"You don't like my singing? It's a good song."

"I don't like Russkis."

Nick emptied his
glass
. "This Russki earned the right to be here. So why don't you go finish your drink. I'm trying to learn a song."

Two more men walked over behind the first.

"Trouble, Joe?"

"Just someone who needs to leave. You're leaving, aren't you, pal? With your Russki asshole buddy here."

Nick sighed. He stood. Korov swayed a little and stood with him. Lamont stood, his arm still in a sling. Ronnie stood up on his crutches. He held one loose in his right hand.

"You're drunk. Why don't you drop it before you get hurt."

"Oh, how scary," the big man said. "Two cripples, a Russki and an asshole."

He swung. Nick blocked it easily with his left arm and hit him with a hard right twice in the face. He felt cartilage break. The man went backward over a table. His friends came in fast. Korov decked one. Ronnie took out the other with his crutch. Lamont watched. The bar erupted into a brawl.

It took a while to sort out. When it was done, the four of them were on the street. They were told they were no longer welcome at The Point. They were a little worse for wear. Ronnie's shiny new crutch was bent. It made him hobble as he walked.

"I was getting tired of that joint anyway." Lamont's eye was swelling.

"Just like Moscow," Korov said. They walked down the street laughing.

CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN

"What do you think?"

"Wow. This is great."

Selena stood with Nick in the living room of her new condo. Her condo, not theirs. Not yet. She'd had some things shipped from San Francisco. The rest was new. New paintings on the walls, new furniture.

She'd chosen antique rugs with geometric patterns of red and blue and cream. Stylized animals and trees and birds. The kitchen gleamed. A rack of shining pans hung ready over the center island and stove. She'd gone light brown leather for the chairs and couches. A few antiques, flowers. It was comfortable, inviting, a place you could live in and put your feet up. Selena was neat. She wasn't trying for House Beautiful.

"Wait till you see the bedroom."

"Why don't you show me?"

The bedroom was beautiful. A king-size bed with an elaborate headboard, soft pillows, smooth sheets. The Klee hung on the wall over the bed. They undressed. He held her against him. She reached down and took him in her hand. He felt life beating in her chest. Her body was warm. He molded against her, kissed her.

She pushed him down on the bed. She smiled and bent down to kiss him. He ran his hand down the taut curve of her back, over her buttocks. She lowered herself onto him. They made love slowly, taking their time. Afterwards they lay holding each other. She felt his heart pounding, unspoken tension in his body.

"Nice bedroom," he said.

"It's better with you in it."

"Selena..."

She got up and put on a green silk robe.

"I think I know what you're going to say."

She walked out of the room, came back with a bottle of wine and two glasses. She got back in bed. They sat with their backs against the headboard.

"So what am I going to say?"

"You're not ready to live together, are you?"

Nick took a glass from her. "No, I guess not. I've thought about it. A lot. At least when people weren't shooting at us."

"Bad joke."

"Yeah." He drank some wine. "I don't think it's a good idea, that's all."

"Neither do I."

"You don't?" She'd surprised him.

"You still aren't over Megan."

"Megan's gone."

"Not in your head, she isn't."

"I don't compare the two of you, if that's what you mean. I don't do that."

"I know. But she's still in there. I can feel it."

"It's just different with you. I love you, but it's different."

"It should be. It has to be. But you have to choose."

As she said the words she wished she hadn't.

"Choose? Between you and Megan? Selena, Megan's dead."

"Yes. She is. So maybe you need to get over it."

"You don't know a damn thing about Megan."

"I know enough to know she's a ghost between us. I know it would be a mistake to pretend she's not there. I know I love you but I need more back. Until you can do that, I don't see what point there'd be in moving in together."

Selena felt herself getting angry.
Damn it, this isn't how I wanted it to go.

Nick set the wine on the end table and got up. He began putting on his clothes. He put on his shirt, strapped the shoulder rig on. Put on his jacket.

"I'm sorry. I'm working on it."

"Let me know when you've figured it out." Her tone was bitter. She heard the door close behind him.

Damn it! Damn it to hell!

She refused to cry.

CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT

President Rice looked at Harker and steepled his hands together. He had deep shadows under his eyes.

"The Pentagon?"

"Yes, sir. We went back in. Someone has removed all traces of Black Harvest from their computers. The scenario no longer exists. There's no trail, nothing to suggest it was ever contemplated."

"It could be CYA time on their part. Just in case someone made a connection in the press."

"I don't think so, Mr. President. Black Harvest was buried deep. No one outside the Pentagon could have found it. I suspect very few people over there even knew it existed."

"That is a very disturbing thought, Director."

"Yes, sir."

"It's very convenient, Lodge's suicide." Rice watched her.

"Yes, sir."

"That's all?"

She hadn't told him Hood had killed Lodge. Plausible deniability was sometimes more than a convenient phrase, regardless of the opinion of the media. Rice had created the Project to keep him informed, but in this case it really was something he didn't need to know.

"As you said, sir, it's very convenient."

Rice didn't pursue it. She didn't think he ever would.

"What do you think about Hood as the new DCI?"

That surprised her. "I think he would be an excellent choice, sir. He's up to speed on everything. He's well respected at the Agency. He's one of theirs. The transition would be smooth under him."

Elizabeth had briefed Rice on Hood's suspicions of a wider conspiracy crossing international borders. It hadn't made the President's day. She thought it was probably a factor in Rice's consideration of Hood as the next DCI.

"Director, it seems that every time you solve a problem something else turns up."

"Yes, sir, it does seem like that. I have a very good team. When you turn over rocks, things crawl out."