Casing the Colors © Week 27

Casing the Colors © Week 27 • • • CHAPTER 45 • • At seven that morning, when the five million dollars was in Alexei's hands, Kate phoned Dave. "Meet us in the living room," she said. "We're ready to deal." When they arrived, Miguel was waiting without Dave. "We don't need Dave for this," he said, shaking Alexei's hand. "Shall we have coffee?" he asked, motioning toward a tray on the sofa table. "Miguel, we are willing to agree to your terms," Alexei said, "but not with all your conditions." After listening to Alexei's explanation, Miguel said, "I'm not going to argue about a few million dollars, but I won't forget how our relationship started." Alexei handed him a large packet full of US currency. Miguel put the money into his briefcase and closed it with a soft clicking sound. Then he stood up. "I need to be on my way to Monterrey," he said. "I hope you won't mind if I take your wife as far as my plane. For luck," he added. Alexei moved forward, but Miguel held out his hand to stop him. "President Katerinov, we have known one another for many years, not always as friends, but I think you have never been disappointed in depending on my word. That is more than I can say for the members of the Alliance. I will return Katharine to you when I am safely on my plane. I give you my word." "Miguel, if Katharine goes with you, so do I," Alexei said. Your word will feel much better if I'm watching you." The three left the hotel together, with Alexei's security force and several US Marines and intelligence officers following behind them at a discreet distance. Kate sat between Alexei and Miguel as the Russian diplomatic limousine sped away from Geneva toward Cointrin Airport. The limousine circled around the large arrival hall, winding its way toward the private hangar and departure lounge on the other side of the runways. US Marines and Russian bodyguards followed in Miguel's private limousine. Sunlight was breaking through the low gray clouds over the city when the group entered the passenger lounge and asked for tea while they waited for Dave's comandeered plane to go through its warm-up procedures and file a flight plan. Miguel entertained them with stories of his travels to the less romantic parts of South America during the years when his organization was growing and, with it, his own importance and need for personal security. He seemed to enjoy tossing his unsavory past at them. "I have landed on every mountainside in the Andes," he laughed, sipping the tea he had sweetened with three sugar cubes. Alexei held his cup as if warming his hands, his eyes on Miguel and only occasionally glancing outside toward the security force. The Swiss customs official assigned to the private hangar asked for their passports. The Russian who was always with Alexei Katerinov intervened, explaining that the president of Russia and his guests were waiting for their plane. The official, a young man with reddish-blond hair and slight, sloping shoulders above his six-foot frame, straightened noticeably and disappeared into his windowed booth. The Russian slipped away to join the Marines. "What is your assigned departure time?" Alexei asked, drinking his tea so that he could look down at Miguel over the edge of his cup, maximizing his considerable height advantage. "We have an 9 a.m. slot," Miguel replied, "but we're asking for an earlier one." "How will you let us know when you have succeeded with Raqqa?" Alexei continued. "I think the media will let you know all about it long before I can," Miguel replied. "But, I will get a message through to you, or should I say to your wife. As in the past, Katharine will be my contact." "By all means," Alexei nodded, "but, Miguel, we are not a bunch of drug runners waiting on a mountainside in South America." "I don't suppose I could take Katharine with me," Miguel asked, brushing aside Alexei's veiled threat as he reached out to kiss Kate's cheek. Alexei moved between Miguel and Kate. "My wife stays with me, Miguel, and, so do you," he added, quickly seizing Miguel's arm and twisting it behind his back. Miguel's pilot appeared, followed by a US Marine. The Russian backed up Alexei, his hand in his coat pocket, bulging slightly with what could only be a pistol. Within moments they were accelerating along the narrow road behind the airport, the Marine-escorted US and Russian Embassy limousines leading the way. They were back in the hotel in twenty minutes. The Marines led Miguel into the lobby while the Russian stood guard beside the door of the other limousine to protect Alexei and Kate, holding them inside the limousine. Kate reached for Alexei's hand. "Your father and Secretary Stevens and I talked while I was in my plane on the way to Geneva," he said. "We knew we could not let Carlos Miguel get away with a hundred million dollars and enough information to blackmail us forever." "What about Raqqa and the Mexican army?" she asked. "Who's going to stop them without Miguel's help?" "That is General Bennett's problem," Alexei answered pointedly. "He asked for the assignment and he already has most of his troop strength in place. Our job is to get rid of Miguel, quickly and without incident." The Russian opened the limousine door and Alexei put his arm lightly around Kate's shoulder as they strolled through the hotel lobby, looking as if they had been out for an early morning constitutional along the lake front. When Alexei opened the door to their room, Kate was amazed to find her father waiting. He was standing at the windows facing toward them. "Dad, what are you doing here?" she asked, kissing his cheek. "There are things a President cannot do," he replied, "whether he is Russian or American. I guess that's why there's a cavalry." His words were frivolous but his look was somber. "Let's have breakfast," Alexei said. "Ask for some pancakes with bacon and eggs," General Gordon said. "I'm hungry." Over breakfast, while they were drinking their tea, Kate asked, "Will one of you please tell me what is going on?" "We've got a hell of a mess on our hands all along the Rio Grande from Texas to California," her father answered. "Scott is in a holding pattern, trying to keep half of Mexico from entering the United States. He cannot succeed if we don't stop Miguel and Raqqa. So, it seemed damn stupid to let Miguel get away when we have him in our grasp." "Miguel was going to lead us to Raqqa," Kate protested. "What do we do now?" "If we can isolate him in the southwest, we can eliminate him," General Gordon said. "Sooner or later, he'll make a mistake, and without Miguel's money, I'd say sooner." "What the General means, Darling, is that we are going to give up the southwest temporarily in exchange for eliminating Miguel. He's the longer term threat to American security." "Damn right, Alexei," General Gordon said. "Miguel's got independent money, weapons and friends, whereas Raqqa lives off other people. With the Arabs in the Alliance, Raqqa can be effectively sealed off and starved. But, with Miguel, Raqqa could afford to create his own agenda." "We can't just hold Miguel forever," Kate said. "Even Stu Wellford doesn't have that kind of influence with the Swiss government." "We are not going to hold him," her father answered, pushing his chair back to reach for the phone. "We will be in the living room in two minutes," he said into the receiver. "Take Browning and Miguel in now." "Stay here, Kate. There is nothing you can do in there," he said, nodding toward the connecting door. Kate refused to let it lie there, unresolved. "I want to come with you," she said, looking from her father to Alexei. "All right," General Gordon agreed finally, as Alexei nodded his okay, "but promise me you will not interfere." They went through the door and past the service kitchen into the living room. Dave Browning stood up when he saw them. Miguel remained seated, silent and grimly still. "Gentlemen," General Gordon began, his voice emotionless, "I am acting under the authority of an Executive Order issued by the President of the United States, permitting extraordinary military courts to deal with the current domestic rebellion. You have admitted to participating in the rebellion. You, Mr. Browning, as a traitor to your country, and you, Mr. Miguel, as one of the rebellion's two leaders. The gravity of your crimes against the United States poses a great danger while you are alive." Kate held her breath. Dave looked at her, searching for pity, his face ashen. She lowered her eyes to avoid the gaze of the man who was her client and had been her friend. She had no doubt about his treason, but his crimes seemed trivial in relation to the punishment her father had just announced. Miguel laughed cynically and started to move menacingly toward General Gordon. The Russian grabbed him brusquely and held him while a Marine handcuffed him. "Do not be so certain there will be an execution," Miguel hissed, "unless it is your own." General Gordon turned toward the detachment of three Marines. "Captain, you have your orders. You may proceed," he said matter of factly. He moved toward the door, shepherding Kate and Alexei in front of him. Dave called after Kate. "Kid, don't let them kill me. For God sake, don't let them kill me. I'll pay anything, I'll do anything. Just don't let them kill me. Katie, fix it. Don't leave me." In her room, Kate collapsed into a chair and asked her father for a drink. He handed her a scotch and stood close to her while two muffled but unmistakable sounds came from the living room. She closed her eyes and downed the drink. Alexei broke the silence. "I think we had better get to the Russian Consulate. Is everything ready for the marriage announcement?" "Yes," General Gordon replied. "I'll follow you in my car. After the announcement, we will go directly to the airport." "Shall I take Katharine in my car?" Alexei asked. "I think so. And afterward as well. We don't want anyone to begin wondering about the reality of the marriage." Kate listened as the two men talked, but the voices planning her future seemed distorted, coming from another world. Alexei put his hand on her shoulder to bring her back to the present and reminded her of the need to provide happy honeymoon faces for the press in a half hour. Is Dave really dead? Kate kept asking herself, remembering his energy, attacking life to gain things that seemed to be for him insanely easy. For years she had listened to his fantasies, drunk scotch with him and kept him out of South American jails, without ever suspecting him of the hollow core that finally killed him. He was dead, she knew, but why hadn't he made that one critically important confession to her. Why hadn't he said he was hollow. Perhaps then she could have protected him from himself. She shook the painful images from in front of her eyes and stuffed her things into her suitcase while her father and Alexei had a last drink. It was 9 a.m., she noticed, but Dave would never see another 9 a.m. They left the hotel silently, Alexei holding her arm, her father walking beside them, obviously unphased by his patriotic but violent world. Was Alexei's world as violent, she wondered. The media realized immediately why General Gordon and President Katerinov had called a joint news conference. As their limousines drove up to the front of the Russian Consulate, cameras and microphones were massed everywhere in the street. The three smiled and waved and hurried into the building. The world wanted a miracle in those terrible days and Kate Gordon became the girl with the glass slipper. Her father beamed proudly as he announced the marriage of his daughter to the President of Russia. His announcement of the Alliance only added to the fairy tale quality of the marriage. Alexei and Kate became symbols of hope in a world battered by racial, religions, political and economic catastrophes. They looked so smitten with each other that it was hard to be cynical about the marriage that had sealed the Alliance between the old cold war superpower enemies who were now becoming worldwide partners. When the questions about how Kate and Alexei met and why they decided to marry had all been answered with the appropriate kisses and displays of the tiara wedding rings, the pair escaped with General Gordon, leaving the diplomats to answer the more mundane questions about eliminating the threat to America and the world. Kate thought they were going to Moscow, but their flight plan said Rabat. They were on their way to tell the king of Morocco and General Julien about their successes, as Alexei put it. Would the world ever know, she wondered, that her official wedding day had begun with two unannounced but nonetheless sanctioned executions.