Critical Error (25 page)

“Just like Texas?” asked Lawrence Harkness, sarcastically.

“Maybe. How much did you make out of that again?” asked Lawson. They all knew that Harkness had doubled his wealth following the atrocity in Texas but it didn’t stop Harkness complaining about it. He owned many of the military suppliers who had benefitted from the United States’ reaction to the nuclear detonation.

“It won’t happen again!” Andrew responded firmly and with conviction.

“Best cancel that new yacht you were going to buy!” joked Lawson to Harkness.

“Gentlemen, please,” asked Walter looking at the two billionaires who were constantly at each other’s throats. Walter knew that Lawson had made just as much out of the atrocity as Harkness and probably even more. Lawson’s stock in military supply organizations had shot through the roof.

“What’s even more troubling at the moment is this solar flare nonsense.”

“Sorry?” Andrew was taken totally by surprise. The solar flare had been the subject of a few briefings over the last couple of days but with other things on his mind, he’d avoided them like the plague. Another was scheduled for later that day and included the President so he’d have to attend.

“Jesus, have you not been watching the news?” asked William Hathway who until then had sat quietly.

“Honestly, no. I’ve not had time.”

“They’re suggesting that in about a week from now there will be a massive solar flare. I think it’s like an explosion within the sun which will cause some sort of geomagnetic storm,” informed Hathaway.

Andrew just stared at the four like they were speaking Greek. He had absolutely no idea what all of it meant.

“Basically, they’re talking about grounding every aircraft in the world for between three and five days!” explained Hathaway, the biggest landowner and farmer in America. To ensure top dollar, his produce was flown around the world. Grounded aircraft for three to five days would cost him tens of millions in lost revenue.

“Why the hell would they do that?” asked Andrew, stunned by the revelation and how he had missed the enormity of the problem.

“Some rubbish about magnetic field and proton storms being a risk to engines on a plane. The worry is when, and if, it hits, planes will fall out of the sky as their engines are knocked out.”

“I’m sorry. This is the first I’ve heard of this. What do you want me to do?”

“Stop it!”

“Explosions on the sun?!” asked Andrew incredulously.

“Grounding the planes!” shouted Hathaway angrily before getting up and leading his three horsemen out of the library and the house.

Andrew Russell just stared at the four empty seats. What next, he wondered.

His phone rang. The President wanted him in the Oval Office ten minutes ago.

It had taken the best part of two days but they had made it. A slight detour on the way had increased their number by one. The Senator’s wife, Beth was now safely ensconced with her husband in their master suite. The house, as Agent Clark had commented many times, was spectacular, nestling in the mountains below the Whitefish mountain ski resort, with views across the lake, framed by 7000 foot mountains that bordered Canada and offering the best skiing in Montana, as promised by the Senator. The house itself was vast. The lounge alone could fit Clark’s whole apartment, as could the circular fireplace in its heart.

After the events in Washington, Sam had declared that enough was enough and they had no option but to get out of dodge. The Senator had mentioned the ski lodge, over 2,000 miles away, as a joke but Sam had instantly grabbed the idea, particularly as the Senator had explained that the lodge had been purchased the previous year by the Senator’s wife’s family’s estate. He had assured Sam that there was no way it could be linked to them. Her estate was as tight as the Rockefellers. Once something went into it, it was like it never existed. They had spent a small fortune on alterations and upgrades and hadn’t set foot in it since they had bought it. Sam wanted Charles and the Secretary of Defense safe. He wanted them secured somewhere that he could leave and not worry about them.

They had taken some convincing, particularly their newest recruit, Rebecca. She wanted to contact her HQ and arrange for a safe escort to the Israeli embassy. Sam ruled it out. He couldn’t trust his own government despite having one of its most senior members under his protection, never mind a foreign one. No, they would rely on no-one else but themselves. The first plan of action was to go primitive. Rebecca and the Secretary of Defense’s cell phones were ceremoniously smashed and their SIM cards discarded. They then stripped the Humvees and the eight bodies that scattered the ground of every weapon and piece of ammunition they could find. They threw it all into Sam’s Toyota Camry and took off. If Rebecca’s version of events was correct, nobody else had tracked them, never mind discovered what they were driving. The Camry was as anonymous as any car on the road.

They had driven non-stop, picked up a very surprised Senator’s wife and settled into the lodge just as night was falling.

Clark came back into the lounge and pressed the button that closed the wall of glass that opened onto a terrace that seemed to hover above a lake below.

“Spectacular!”

Sam and Rebecca struggled to hide their smiles at the fiftieth utterance of the word ‘spectacular’ in the previous hour.

“Sorry,” said Clark realizing she was repeating herself. “It’s just…”

“Spectacular,” offered Sam.

“Yes,” smiled Clark., “And I am spectacularly tired so I’ll bid you both good night.” She tipped her head and headed towards her own spectacular room.

“How are you feeling?” asked Rebecca, looking at Sam.

“Tired,” he said yawning.

“That’s not what I meant,” replied Rebecca, throwing a cushion at him.

During the drive, she, as had the Secretary of Defense, had heard everything that had happened. The attempts on the Senator’s life and the murder of Sam’s family and further attempts to stop him. Both Rebecca and the Secretary of Defense had sat dumbfounded as they listened to a story line straight from a spy thriller. None of this stuff happened in real life but here they were. Rebecca had offered little when questioned other than she worked for Mossad and was tasked with tracking down the nuclear bomb that was allegedly making its way to America. She made no mention of having being tasked with assisting with the assassination of the Senator and never would. Whoever had made an assessment that Mossad should be involved had made an error. The Senator was clearly a friend to Israel. She and Ben would have a very frank conversation about that error, although she had managed a quick chat with him during a pee break on the road. A public phone in a ladies’ restroom had offered her the chance to report in and update Ben, particularly on the error in targeting the Senator. Ben had assured her this was an error and her job remained as previously, protect the Secretary and find the bomb.

Sam was silent as he thought of his wife and new born son. These were thoughts that he had managed to blank during the previous two days. A tear ran down his cheek. Rebecca watched a man, who she had come to admire as one of the strongest she had ever met, weep before her and she wept too.

“I too, lost a child,” she said, letting the tears flow freely.

Over the next hour, she told Sam things she had never told another living soul. Her feelings flowed. The loss of her husband, her parents and the impact of losing her son, all came flooding out. She knew how Sam felt and the kindred spirits joined as one as each relived their worst nightmares, both as fresh as though they had just happened.

When it was time to go to bed, neither wanted to be alone and for the first time in almost nine years, Rebecca Cohen snuggled into a man as she fell asleep. Both slept soundly in each other’s arms, kindred spirits healing their pain.

Sam woke up first and looked down at the young woman who lay in his arms. Her beauty was something to behold. Her dark hair cascaded down her bare back. The room was warm and the sheets had slipped off her body. The long t-shirt which had made the bed sharing so innocent when they fell asleep, lay discarded at the bottom of the bed. Sam could not help but notice how perfect her body was. Her translucent olive skin covered a perfect blemish free back and legs and there was no doubt she kept in shape. Her butt was quite frankly, as Clark would have said, spectacular. Realizing rather quickly that it was probably not the time to get aroused, he looked away and focused on Rebecca’s head rather than her body. Her face lay on his right shoulder and a more beautiful face he probably had never seen. Her bone structure was European beauty. He looked away and closed his eyes. Avoiding arousal was failing again. The gentle sway of Rebecca’s body became more succinct as he closed his eyes. Her breasts now bare against his bare chest heaved slightly with each breath she took. Her nipples, distinguishable from the rest of the breast, were pert and pressing into him. He felt the arousal again. He had to get up. This was wrong.

“Hmm, I see you’re awake,” said Rebecca before pressing her lips onto Sam’s.

Sam didn’t know how to respond. He was obviously aroused but it felt wrong. He had just lost his family but the tenderness in Rebecca’s kiss was hard to reject and he accepted. There was no passion in their embrace or their kiss, only tenderness. Before long, Sam was on top of Rebecca and pushing inside her. Again, the wildness of raw sex between two strangers was not there. They moved almost as one, steady and slow, sharing the closeness of the moment and wanting it never to end. Both came as one, Sam exploding into Rebecca and hanging on as she struggled to contend with her own internal explosions. Afterwards, there was no awkwardness. They both held one another as lovers would after years spent in each other’s arms. They shared a bond few would ever understand. They were two souls joined by grief, a grief few would ever have to bear.

“So, what now?” asked the Senator as he walked into Sam’s room, spilling his coffee as he saw the two bodies entwined.

Sam pulled the sheet across Rebecca’s naked body and stood up. “A shower I think,” he said, guiding his brother back out of the bedroom.

“Yes, of course,” he said trying to recover from spilling his coffee.

“Well that certainly killed the moment,” said Rebecca as the door closed and she ducked into the en-suite bathroom, wrapped in the sheet.

Ten minutes later, both arrived in the kitchen and it was apparent that the Senator had failed to mention to the other house guests what he had seen. Sam thanked his brother with a nod and a wink. What happened between brothers stayed between brothers.

“So what’s the plan?” asked the Secretary of Defense

“I want to leave you guys here with Agent Clark while I go and find out who’s behind this and what’s going on.”

“I really should make some calls. I’m sure I can clear this up with the President. I can also have a battalion of special forces here within the hour,” said the Secretary of Defense.

“To do what?”

“Protect us of course!”

“Just like your bodyguards did in Washington?” asked Clark.

“I’m sorry but there is no way we can trust anybody just now, not until we know what’s going on,” confirmed Sam. “I’ll head back to Washington by plane and see what I can get from this Lawson guy. At least that’s one lead we have to go on.”

“What about me?” asked Rebecca.

The Senator looked at Sam knowingly as he waited for Sam to answer.

“Sorry, I hadn’t thought about you. I just assumed you had your own orders.”

“Keep the secretary alive which, if he’s here and under Agent Clark’s protection, seems irrelevant and secondly, track down the bomb. So I suppose I should do that.”

“Fair enough, you can hitch a ride with me to the airport. Couple of hours OK for you?”

Akram ‘Pock-Mark’ looked up briefly as the last tip of Portugal disappeared into the murky horizon. He had dreaded the transition from the relatively calm Mediterranean Sea back to the wildness of the Atlantic Ocean. The swell below him had ensured he had been reacquainted with almost every morsel that had past his lips in the previous two weeks. Another wave hit the boat, quickly followed by a further wave of nausea. He bent over and tried desperately to throw up. However, his stomach had been empty for some time.

“Are you OK, Sir?” asked one of his men from behind.

Quite the stupidest question he had been asked but he was in no position to answer. He could do nothing but wave the idiot away as he continued to wretch. He prayed for Allah to help him overcome the sickness. They had work to do. With everything now in place, it was imperative they not be stopped and searched. The Israelis knew about the weapons and if the Israelis knew, their allies would be alerted. That brought the US into the picture. If the US was involved, the UK would be brought in and if they were in, the Europeans would be warned. In short, once the Israelis knew, they had to assume pretty much every major intelligence and armed forces in the world would be on the look-out for the weapons and either a boat or a plane that could transport the weapon to America.