State of Siege

TWENTY-SIX

Secretary-General Chatterjee stopped when she heard the muffled gunshot. It was followed by shrill cries, and then a few moments later there was a second gunshot, closer to the corridor than the first. Almost immediately after that, the door of the Security Council chamber opened. Ambassador Contini was thrown out, and the door was quickly shut.

Colonel Mott ran over to the body at once, his footsteps breaking the utter stillness of the corridor. He was followed by the emergency medical crew. The delegate’s well-dressed body was lying on its side, Contini’s dark face toward them. His expression was relaxed, his eyes shut, his lips slightly parted. The man didn’t look dead, not the way Ambassador Johanson had. Then the blood started to pool beneath his soft cheek.

Mott squatted beside the body. He looked behind the head. There was a single wound, just like before.

As the medical team placed the body on a stretcher, Chatterjee walked toward the doors of the Security Council chamber. She looked away from the body as she passed. Mott rose and intercepted her.

“Ma’am, there’s nothing you can gain by going in there now,” he said. “At least wait until we have the video.”

“Wait!” Chatterjee said. “I’ve already waited too long!”

Just then, one of the security force personnel came from the Economic and Social Council chamber. Lieutenant David Mailman was assigned to a makeshift, two-person reconnaissance team. He and his partner had pulled a fifteen-year-old Remote Infinity Eavesdropping Device out of storage. Designed to work over a telephone line, they rigged it to pick up voices through the headphones of the translating units at each seat in the Security Council chamber. Since the range was only twenty-five feet, they had to work from the adjoining room. They were situated in the small corridor that led to the second-floor media center and was common to both the Trusteeship Council and Security Council chambers.

“Sir,” Lieutenant Mailman said to the colonel, “we think someone just tried to get out of the Security Council. We saw the doorknob twist and heard that latch jiggle right before the first shot.”

“Was it a warning shot?” Mott asked.

“We don’t believe so,” Mailman replied. “Whoever was back there moaned after the report.” The lieutenant looked down. “It — it didn’t sound like a man, sir. It was a very soft voice.”

“One of the children,” Chatterjee said with horror.

“We don’t know that,” Mott said. “Is there anything else, lieutenant?”

“No, sir,” Mailman said.

The officer left. The colonel balled his fists, then looked at his watch. He was waiting for word about the video surveillance. Secure phones had been requested from the U.S. State Department Diplomatic Security forces; until they arrived, all communications had to be done person-to-person. Chatterjee had never seen a man look so helpless.

The secretary-general was still facing the door. Ambassador Contini’s death hadn’t hit her like the first one did, and that disturbed her. Or maybe her reaction had been blunted by the news Lieutenant Mailman brought.

A child may have been shot—

Chatterjee started toward the door.

Mott gently grabbed her arm. “Please don’t do this. Not yet.”

The secretary-general stopped.

“I know that there’s nothing I can do from the outside,” she said. “If it becomes necessary to take action, you won’t need me here. But inside, I may be able to make a difference.”

The colonel looked at the secretary-general for a long moment, then released her arm.

“You see?” she said with a soft smile. “Diplomacy. I didn’t have to pull my arm away.”

Mott seemed unconvinced as he watched her go.