The Successor (25 page)

“Absolutely.”

“Will the troops follow him?”

It was the naval officer’s turn to lean back in his chair. He smiled. “Well, now, that’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it?” His smile faded. “Look, it seems like Delgado’s
the
man inside the FAR. As best the CIA and the DIA can tell, the Ochoa thing is still big for those guys and Delgado’s played his cards well. There’ve been other situations like Ochoa’s, too. Other senior FAR officers who have been hauled away in the middle of the night by the D-VI and never heard from again, and that’s got the military brass down there convinced they’ve got to act. The incidents haven’t been publicized. Even the Cuban contingent in South Florida doesn’t know the extent of it all. Apparently, the D-VI is run by El Jefe’s son-in-law, and supposedly he’s more paranoid than anybody. And getting worse every day. But it’s convinced Delgado and the men beneath him that they have to act.”

“God help Delgado if the D-VI suspects anything.”

The officer pointed at the older man. “
That’s
what everybody’s freaking out about. Delgado’s the key. If the D-VI suspects anything and throws him in jail or kills him, the whole thing falls apart. He’s the linchpin. And, of course, there are all kinds of rumors suddenly running around D-ring that there’s a rat somewhere in the Secret Six.”

“When did those rumors start?”

“The CIA’s circling up with Delgado at some dairy ranch outside Havana tonight. At the last meeting he told them there might be a problem.”

“Damn!”

“Yeah, exactly. We’re so close, but, like I said, if Delgado goes down, the whole thing disintegrates.”

“The doctor’s a key, too.”

“Yeah, he is,” the officer agreed. “He won’t have much of a role after everything goes ballistic, but right now he’s very important.”

Dorsey winced. If the Cuba thing didn’t happen, they wouldn’t have anything to hang President Wood with. If none of the senior Cuban officials were assassinated by U.S. Special Forces during the coup, they wouldn’t be able to bring the president up on impeachment charges. The law was clear. There had to be proof of an assassination, and there had to be credible evidence that the president had ordered it. If they had both pieces, they had an airtight case. It was a law the last Democratic administration before Wood’s had engineered. They were going to kill the liberals with their own sword. It was perfect irony, Dorsey thought to himself.

“Do you have a copy of the order?” the older man asked.

Almost timidly, Dorsey observed. As if he were afraid of the intense disappointment the wrong answer would bring.

The officer smiled proudly, reached into his pocket, pulled out several pieces of folded paper, and handed them over. “Yep.” He inhaled deeply. “I almost got nailed in the copy room with the file, too. It was touch and go for a few seconds.”

Dorsey watched the older man unfold the piece of paper, watched it shake in his hand as if it were blowing in the wind as he read. It was as if he’d discovered the Ark of the Covenant, it was so important. Suddenly they had half of what they needed. Now they had to get Christian Gillette to Cuba so he could give the president the green light. Then it was just a matter of a videotape.

“YOU OKAY?
”

Allison looked up. She’d been putting a deal file away in her desk—as usual she and Sherry were working late. It was almost nine thirty and she was meeting Christian at the Plaza hotel at ten for a drink in the Oak Bar. She couldn’t wait. He’d come into her office this morning and asked her on the date, even told her he missed her. She’d been tempted to play hard to get, but she’d been too excited. It seemed as if he really wanted to have time alone with her. He’d made a point of telling her it would be just the two of them.

“What do mean?”

“You seem a little on edge,” Sherry answered.

Allison slid the drawer shut. “I guess I’m still trying to come to grips with Jim’s suicide.” Christian had told her about it and been very up-front about the note the police had found in Marshall’s apartment blaming him for the death leap. He’d been subdued, obviously feeling responsible. “It’s horrible.”

“Yeah. I heard Jim wrote a note blaming Christian.”

“How did you hear that?”

“Things get around.”

Allison slipped the desk key into the drawer lock and turned. The key was strung to a long cord hanging from her neck. Her elevator swipe card was hanging from the cord, too.

“Is that a new card?” Sherry asked, pointing toward Allison’s neck. The swipe cards were bright white when they were first issued, but they faded over time. “Looks like it was just washed or something. You leave it in your clothes and run it through the washing machine or something?”

“No, you’re right, it’s new.”

“You lose your old one?”

“Yup,” Allison answered curtly. “But I’m keeping this one around my neck so I shouldn’t have that problem again.”

Sherry twirled her hair while she watched Allison pack her briefcase. “You want to get a drink?”

“Can’t. I’m meeting Christian in a few minutes.” She liked telling Sherry that. It was wrong to feel that way, but ever since Sherry had lied to her about Christian asking her if she wanted a ride home, there’d been this unacknowledged tension between them. Allison hadn’t confronted Sherry with Christian’s story, but she could tell Sherry sensed that she and Christian had spoken about it. “Maybe tomorrow night.”

“Yeah, maybe. Hey, has Christian told you about his new flame?”

Allison had been about to stand up, but she sank back into the chair. “Huh?” She tried to make it seem as if the comment hadn’t floored her, but she knew she’d given away her emotions right away. Sherry had a triumphant look on her face. Clearly she’d seen the reaction.

“He’s seeing this girl who’s like half his age.”

Allison’s heart began to pound. Was Sherry lying again, or was this real information? She didn’t want to ask, but she had to. “How do you know?”

“I was going home one night last week, and I saw them coming out of an Italian restaurant on the Upper West Side. Let me tell you, this girl is
gorgeous.
” Sherry rolled her eyes. “And
young.
Like maybe still in college.”

Allison stood up, promising herself she wouldn’t ask Christian about it tonight. Which was going to be tough, especially after a drink or two. “Thanks for the good news.”

“Sorry,” Sherry said, standing up, too, heading for the door, “I didn’t mean to upset you. I figured you’d want to know.”

Sherry was right about that. But the info could have been delivered a little more tactfully.

“Oh, by the way,” Sherry called from the doorway, “congratulations on being named vice chairman of Everest. That’s great.”

Alison watched her leave, then glanced down at the new swipe card hanging from her neck. So strange. She and Sherry had been good friends a couple of days ago, now suddenly it seemed as if they were intense rivals. As if somehow Sherry thought Christian might be interested in her. Allison picked up her purse and headed for the door. A few minutes ago, she wouldn’t have thought Christian could ever be interested in a girl as young as Sherry. Now she wasn’t sure. Maybe Sherry was just making all that up about Christian and a young girl coming out of that Italian restaurant on the Upper West Side. But then Christian had helped that guy start the place. How would Sherry know that? Allison moaned as she headed toward the Everest lobby. She needed a drink. A stiff one.

“YOU KNOW WHAT
I find amazing?” Dorsey asked, gazing through the one-way glass into the now empty room. The naval officer was gone and both of the older men were sitting with him. “The Democrats are going to shoot themselves in the foot with their own gun.”

“How’s that?” asked the man who’d been in the room with the officer.

“They were the ones who put through the legislation prohibiting a president from ordering or approving, even
knowing about,
assassinations of foreign citizens,” Dorsey explained. “Civilians at any time and military people if war hasn’t been officially declared. It was a footnote in that big immigration bill a while back. I was fighting like mad
not
to have it in there, but no one would listen to me. Now we’re going to nail Wood with it.”

“It’s an impeachable offense under the Constitution at this point,” confirmed the man who’d been in the room with Dorsey. “There’s nothing Wood will be able to do once we’ve got the evidence.”

“But will a
copy
of the order be enough to prove his involvement?” Dorsey asked, nodding at the folded piece of paper in the man’s shirt pocket.

“It’ll be plenty enough for the House and the Senate to call for an investigation. The Republicans will scream bloody murder when the signature is confirmed as Wood’s. They’ll demand an investigation. Not you, of course. You’ll stay out of everything, let the younger Turks on our side of the aisle do the dirty work. When they question the witnesses from the Pentagon, that’ll put the finishing touches on it. The vice president will take over after the impeachment vote, but we all know he doesn’t have a chance against you. You’ll win the next election in a landslide.”

“I don’t understand why President Wood would do that,” Dorsey said, shaking his head. “I don’t understand why he’d sign that thing. He can’t be that ignorant. His advisers must have told him what he was doing, what he could be getting himself into.” He caught the two older men looking at each other. “What? What is it?”

“Several of his senior military advisers told him they had to have the assassination order if they were going to win in Cuba,” one of the men explained. “If they were really going to get the job done with no chance of the Communist people coming back into power. Men who are loyal to us told President Wood that. They told him they couldn’t move the project forward without it, but they also told him there was an out. They told him that the definition of
civilian
was gray. That if anything ever came out, they’d swear that the Cubans on the list were really military people, regime members, FAR regulars masquerading as civilian ministers. And they swore there wouldn’t be any evidence of U.S. Special Forces being involved in any assassinations. Which,
of course,
there will be. Plenty of tapes clearly showing our guys carrying out the president’s assassination order. Our forces summarily executing people on this list,” he said, holding up one of the pieces of paper. “Rangers and SEALs doing what their president has told them to do.” He smiled. “Really at our direction, of course.”

“The president’s been trying to get closer to the Pentagon ever since he got into office,” the other man added. “The military was clear with him right up front. A couple of the Joint Chiefs told him in private they weren’t happy about him being in the Oval Office based on his inner-city campaign speeches. The crap about how he’d make sure no social program ever took a backseat to a weapon. They told him in no uncertain terms a few days after the inauguration they were worried about him trying to make cuts in the defense budget and moving those savings over to social programs. Wood took all that to heart. He wanted to be close to the military. He understood that no matter what country you’re talking about, even the United States, ultimately you need the full backing of the military.” The man smiled evilly. “He took direction from what happened to Jack and Bobby Kennedy. They gave the Pentagon the finger and look where they ended up.” He laughed coldly. “Oh, yeah, Wood was ripe for this. Besides, he thinks he’s doing the right thing by liberating Cuba. Not only for the Cuban people, but also the U.S. He’s worried about China putting missiles on the ground.”

“He
is
doing the right thing,” Dorsey murmured. “China is a threat.”

“Maybe, but this is how politics is played, Senator. You know that as well as anyone.”

Dorsey did know that. All too well.

“Let’s talk about Victoria Graham,” the other one spoke up.

“What about her?” Dorsey asked, suddenly suspicious.

“Does she have someone watching Christian Gillette? You weren’t sure she had followed through the last time we spoke.”

“She says she does.”

“Who is it?”

Dorsey shrugged. “I don’t know,” he admitted, watching the intense irritation zip across both men’s faces. They needed as many moles as possible, especially with Dex Kelly buffering everything over at the White House. “I really don’t. She wouldn’t tell me. But you guys are getting your information on him. You have that other person watching him.” He raised one eyebrow. “Well, you
did
have him watching Christian.”

“It doesn’t matter what or who we have,” one of the men said. “We need to know who Victoria Graham is working with and you need to find that out for us.”

Dorsey glared at them. “You want Gillette so badly?”

They glared back for a few moments. Finally, the one who had interviewed the naval officer spoke up. “Christian Gillette has a lot to answer for. A
hell
of a lot.”

Dorsey nodded, his harsh expression weakening. He could understand why they hated the guy. They’d spent their careers protecting the United States, taking huge personal risks and earning a lot less than they would have in the private sector as senior executives for one of the big defense companies. They were supposed to have earned all that lost opportunity back with the nanotechnology deal, supposed to have gotten penny warrants before the IPO. After they’d lifted the technology out of the government and hid it in a private company. But Gillette had gotten in the way, totally derailed that huge potential payback by figuring out what was going on.
And
they blamed him for the death of their friend Sam Hewitt, the former CEO of U.S. Oil.

“Let me get this all straight,” Dorsey said respectfully. He’d never asked for a full accounting before tonight, but if he was going to commit to this fully, he wanted to know everything. “The guys in D-ring at the Pentagon are the planners, right?”

The two men glanced at each other, then folded their arms across their chests.