working for the Americans, his own country. And they killed him.”
“Wasn’t there an investigation?” Alex added.
“What did I care for investigations that went nowhere? I didn’t want the truth covered up. I just wanted revenge.” She took Finn’s hand. “We both did.”
Alex said, “Oliver, can’t we just take this evidence to the authorities now?”
“That’s what I was thinking,” Annabelle added.
Stone shook his head. “We don’t know that the CIA and the president at the time didn’t order those assassinations. If they did, others, who are still in the government, may know too.”
“And we go waltzing in with it,” Alex said slowly.
“And are never seen again,” Lesya said. “Look what happened to my poor husband.”
“And making this public now may start World War Three,” Stone said. “With the state of Russia right now and the tarnished global image of the U.S., I doubt the Russians would take kindly to us having killed two of their leaders even if it did lead to the fall of the Soviet Union.”
“So what’s your plan?” Alex asked.
“We have to get to Carter Gray,” he said. “And I think I know how to do it.”
Stone had just started to lay out his plan when Finn’s phone buzzed. He listened, clicked off and looked at the others. His face had gone very pale. “That was Mandy. David didn’t come back from the store.”
Lesya said quietly, “Carter Gray has taken him. As bait.”
Finn stood. “Then it’s over. I’ll trade myself for my son.”
“The only result of that will be both of you will die,” Stone said. “Gray never allows for leaving witnesses if he can help it.”
“I have to get my son back,” Finn snapped.
“We will get him back, Harry. I promise,” Stone said.
“How?” Lesya exclaimed. “How will you do this if Gray has him? You just said the man does not allow for survivors.”
“We need someone else to trade David for other than you and Harry.”
“Who would that be?” Reuben asked.
“Someone Gray can’t afford to lose.”
Lesya said instantly, “Roger Simpson.”
Finn whirled around to stare at Stone. “And I know just how to get the son of a bitch.”
CHAPTER 86
ROGER SIMPSON WAS SITTING at his desk in his office at the Hart Building working when his computer screen went blank. A second later a picture appeared on it.
Simpson gasped. It was the image of Rayfield Solomon materializing across his screen. How can that be?
Typed letters next appeared on the bottom of the screen. “I hope you recognize your old friend.”
“What the?” Simpson said, looking around. “What the hell is this?”
“What the hell is this?” a voice said, sending Simpson nearly out of his chair. It was coming from the wireless unit Finn had hidden there when he’d broken into the senator’s office.
“Who are you? Where are you?” Simpson said fearfully.
“What’s important is that there’s a bomb hidden inside your computer.”
“What!” Simpson exclaimed, half rising from his chair.
“And if you try to leave the room it will detonate.”
Simpson immediately sank back down. “But they swept my office for bombs.”
“Unscrew the back of your computer. There’s a screwdriver in your desk drawer, I checked when I was in here.”
“But I—”
“Do it!”
Hands shaking, Simpson retrieved the screwdriver, undid the back cover and stared at the device Finn had put there.
“It’s designed to use the chemical and electronic components in the CPU to cause a chain reaction and then a big boom. By the way, I can also see everything you’re doing, so if you try to disarm the bomb I’ll blow you up. Understood?”
Simpson slowly nodded.
“Don’t just nod, I want to hear you say it. Do you understand?”
“I understand. For God sakes, I understand.”
“A man will come to your office shortly. You will go with him without resistance. If you try to warn anyone I will detonate the bomb and your whole office disappears. Once out of your office, if you try anything, say anything to anyone to try and get away, your wife is dead. Do you understand that?”
“You have Donna?”
“The former Miss Alabama is doing very well right now. That status could change, depending on your level of cooperation. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Simpson said in a defeated tone.
“Good. Now compose yourself and wait for him to come. I’ll be listening and watching until he does. He’ll explain that he’s taking you to an emergency meeting at Langley to cover a crisis that just came up, one that the chairman of the Intelligence Committee needs to be in on. You will confirm to your staff that this is true. Understood?”
“Yes.”
A few minutes later there was a knock at Simpson’s office door. Shortly after that the pale but composed senator was escorted down the elevator by Stone dressed in a black suit; he was also wearing sunglasses. They got into a car driven by Reuben. As the car pulled away Stone took off his sunglasses and stared at Simpson.
“Hello, Roger, it’s been a long time.”
“Do I know y—?” Simpson’s breath caught in his throat as Stone’s gaze bore into him.
“I guess I haven’t changed as much as I thought,” Stone said. “Actually, I think I did all my aging while working for you and Gray.”
Simpson stammered, “John, please you have to believe me, I had nothing to do with what happened to you or your wife.” He added quickly, “And we took care of Jackie. We loved her very much.”
Stone elbowed the man hard in the ribs. “My daughter’s name was Elizabeth, not Jackie.”
“Gray gave her to us. He didn’t tell us she was your daughter. He only told me the truth recently.”
“So who did order the hit on me?”
“I have my suspicions,” Simpson said.
“Gray?”
Simpson said slowly, “Could have been. He said you wanted to leave Triple Six. He didn’t like that one bit. That’s the truth.”
“Apparently neither did a lot of people. You ordered the hits on Andropov and Chernenko, didn’t you?”
Simpson almost choked on his own breath. “Who told you that?”
“Did you?”
“That’s in the past. But if I did anything of that magnitude, which I’m not admitting that I did, it would have been duly authorized from the highest possible level.”
“I’m sure you covered your ass. I talked to Max Himmerling before he died.”
A tic started at Simpson’s left temple. “Himmerling?”
“Yeah. I’m assuming Gray had him killed because he knew he’d tell me everything. And Max knew where all the skeletons were buried.”
“What all did he tell you?” Simpson asked nervously.
“Everything I needed to know,” Stone said quietly. “Like it was either you or Gray who ordered the hit on me.”
Simpson could barely speak now. “Are you going to kill me?”
“That depends on you, doesn’t it?” Stone put on his sunglasses and sat back. “And how much Carter Gray values your friendship? If he doesn’t take the bait, you’re of no value to me.”
“I could well be the next president of this country!” Simpson snapped.
“Like I said, no value to me at all.”