The Lance

CHAPTER TWENTY

Elizabeth wanted the latest NSA information on President Rice's trip. She had full access to the NSA database. The kind of details NSA had on the trip were highly classified, but Elizabeth's clearance was UMBRA, as high as it got. She entered her password.

Except the computer screen displayed a curt message.

She tried again, with the same result. An unpleasant thought occurred to her. She entered a different search, unrelated to the President but still restricted.

She buzzed Stephanie. "Steph, can you come in for a sec?"

Stephanie had on one of her favorite red and black color combinations. A tailored blouse and jacket hid the Glock tucked into the waist of her black skirt. She came into Elizabeth's office.

Stephanie was one of the secrets of Elizabeth's success. If necessary, she could take over the Project. More, there was nothing Stephanie couldn't do with a computer. Elizabeth sometimes thought Steph had binary bits and electrons running through her veins along with her blood.

There was no need to talk about Alpha Red. Stephanie knew the drill.

"Let's have lunch," Elizabeth said. She pointed at the screen with its infuriating message and put a finger on her lips. "We can sit out back in the shade garden."

The back of the Project building sheltered an enclosed garden with high walls and a pleasant, shaded fountain. In good weather it was a favorite spot for lunch and impromptu meetings.

"My pleasure." Stephanie twirled the gold bracelets on her wrist.

Harker shut down her computer. She had Stephanie. That was all she would need.

The two women rode down to the first floor and went out past the security station into the parking lot. They walked in silence to Elizabeth's Audi. Stephanie used a detector to make a sweep. She found a bug near the driver's side door and placed it on the curb.

They headed for the highway.

In a darkened room lined with monitors, the technicians manning the audio surveillance and tracking equipment noticed nothing amiss. They were multi-tasking, monitoring a stream of audio and video transmissions from multiple sources. The locator showed Harker's car parked outside her building. The bug transmitted normal background sounds. The subject had given no sign she knew she was being surveilled. There was no reason to be suspicious.

The GPS readouts indicated the vehicle belonging to Ronnie Peete was parked in Virginia at a well known restaurant. Selena Connor's car was still in the parking lot next to Harker's and she was with Peete anyway. Everything looked good. Just another routine job.

Elizabeth drove toward the city. She told Stephanie of the morning call from the new head of NSA.

"Dysart is the only one who could have blocked my clearance."

"Do you think it's personal?"

"I hardly know him, Steph. He's got no reason to do this." She paused. "He's moved fast. General Hood only went down last night."

Her intuition sent vibes all over her body, raising goose bumps.

"Do you think he had anything to do with that? Dysart?"

"With General Hood's illness? Elizabeth, that's a terrible thought."

"Dysart wants me to pull Nick out right away. A decorated, effective agent in place when the President is in a high risk security situation and Dysart wants him gone. Then he knocks out my classified access. I don't like what I'm thinking."

"You think Dysart is setting something up. Something about the President."

Stephanie shifted in her seat, adjusted the pistol tucked behind her back.

Harker said, "The Middle East is a powder keg. I think someone may want to set it off. If Dysart is part of a conspiracy, he'd try to shut us down before we discovered whatever is being planned. It would explain the surveillance, everything."

Stephanie looked out the window.

Elizabeth thought about Dysart. I hope I'm wrong and this is only some petty vendetta. But what if I'm right? Something must be set to happen in Jerusalem, or why block me? Block the Project? How do I stop something I can't pin down?

She had no answer. There was no one outside of the team she could trust. She'd have to handle it on her own.