Biowar

72

Dean watched the Mossad agent watch Lia as she got off the bus and retrieved her luggage. Both Dean and the Art Room had checked around for a trail team but found no one. According to Telach, Lia’s supposed status as a tourist of dubious background shouldn’t attract all that much attention from Mossad, since the Israeli secret service had all of the important arms networks in Syria pretty well figured out; even Deep Black had trouble getting things in and out of the country without the Israelis knowing about it.

Trouble being a relative term.

But if that was the case, what was up with Yacoub?

“She’s getting into the taxi,” Dean told Rockman. “Yacoub’s behind her,” he added. “Getting his own cab.”

“Yeah, we see it. All right. You’re at the same hotel. She’s Five-fourteen; you’re Three-twelve. Already preregistered. Give her five minutes, then go on.”

“You don’t want me to trail them?”

“The hotel’s only a mile away. She won’t get lost,” said the runner. “If you burn your cover we’re going to have to start from scratch. Let her go on.”

Dean waited three minutes before telling his driver to go along to the hotel. Even so, it appeared that Lia beat them by a considerable margin; she’d checked in and was upstairs before Dean got to the front desk.

The desk clerk’s English was passable, and after handing over his credit card, Dean found himself being led by a bellhop to the elevator.

“Charlie — where’s Yacoub?” asked Rockman in the elevator.

“Don’t know.”

The bellhop turned and gave Dean a puzzled glance. He smiled.

“Something’s up.”

Dean reached across and pressed the elevator button for the fifth floor even though the bellhop had already pressed 3.

“Go on to your room,” said Rockman. “We’ll give you more instructions.”

The door opened on 3. Dean reached into his pocket and took out some of the Canadian money he was carrying, stuffing it into the bellhop’s hand.

“Go,” Dean told him. “I’ll be along. Go.” He reached to hit the DOOR CLOSED button.

“Charlie, what are you doing?” asked Rockman. “Go into your room. Stick with the program.”

By the time the elevator opened, Dean had taken out the small Sig pistol he’d been given as a personal weapon. He ran down the hallway toward Lia’s room, rapped twice on the wooden door — then used his leg to kick it open. He dived to the floor, rolling around the empty room.

“She’s not here,” said Dean.

“No kidding,” said Rockman.

“Where is she?” asked Dean, jumping up.

“Look, Charlie, this is a complicated situation. We don’t have time to explain everything to you,” said Telach.

“Screw yourself, Marie,” he said, running back into the hall.