The Lance

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Touted as the most exclusive accommodations in Jerusalem, the Royal Suite where Rice was staying was twelve hundred square feet of carpeted luxury. Kings, Premiers and Presidents had all stayed here.

The main room featured a grouping of white brocade chairs placed before a fireplace at one end. Sideboards, tables and elegant side chairs of polished hardwoods were arranged throughout. A windowed terrace swept the length of the entire suite, with a million dollar view of the Old City and its spotlighted battlements. Above the ancient walls, the deep black of the Judean night sky glowed with stars.

The suite had separate reception rooms and a full kitchen. A large bedroom opened off a study furnished with a Chippendale style desk. Paintings in earth tones and grays dotted the walls. The room reeked of privileged elegance and money.

Rice led the way into the study. He took a seat by the desk and gestured Nick to a chair. Calloway stood by the door, hands clasped in front of him. Nick half expected him to put on sunglasses, even though it was nighttime and indoors.

"At ease, Carter, for God's sake. You're making me nervous."

"Yes, sir." Nick made an effort to relax.

Now that they were in the quiet privacy of the President's rooms, Nick could see how tired he was. Rice's eyes were fringed with red and there were deep shadows under them. The President was a man who needed sleep. A line from one of Bob Dylan's songs popped into Nick's mind.

Even the President of the Yew Nited States must sometimes have to go naked.

"John," Rice said to Calloway, "we may have a situation."

"Yes, Mr. President."

"Carter." Rice took a sip of water from a bottle on his desk. "I don't think Director Harker is the kind of person who makes unfounded accusations or gets pulled into conspiracy fantasies. Would you agree?"

"Yes, sir."

"Are you aware of her concerns?"

"Yes, sir. She believes General Dysart may be part of a conspiracy and that there may be a plot to assassinate you."

For an instant Calloway lost his mask of composure. Good, Nick thought. The guy's human after all.

"Mr. President, someone tried to kill me three times today and a deep cover source of ours was murdered before I could talk with him. Someone breached our security. No one was supposed to know I was here, but Dysart found out. Now he's running NSA and he tried to get Harker to call me off. It adds up to a lot of suspicion."

"General Dysart took over General Hood's duties because he's in Walter Reed after suffering a stroke."

"Sir, he'd just completed his annual physical and he was in fine health. How could he have a stroke?"

"We're going to find out. I've directed his medical team to pursue detailed toxicology studies as well as the usual regimens. In any event, Director Harker was adamant that I am in danger. She said she is working on getting evidence Dysart is involved in a conspiracy."

"If something is there Harker will find it, Mr. President."

"As of now, Carter, you are part of my immediate security detail until I leave Israel. I'm sure the Director can take care of herself. I want you close by and I want you armed."

There was only one possible response. "Yes, sir."

Rice glanced at Calloway. "Okay with you, John?"

It wasn't really a request, but it was typical of Rice to include others in decisions he had already made. Calloway was in a tough spot.

"Of course, sir."

"Good. Find a place for him to sleep. Put him up with our people. I want him with us tomorrow on the Temple Mount."

"Yes, sir."

"Mr. President, may I call Director Harker and tell her of our conversation? I also need to contact Shin Bet."

"Use your discretion and get some sleep. You'll need it."

Time to call Harker and Ari and then try to grab a few hours. Maybe he wouldn't dream.