Pandora's grave

The CIA agent ducked his head to slip inside, observing the pistol in Najeri’s left hand. It wasn’t a mistake-the Arab was ambidextrous.

“So, what brings you to my humble establishment?”

“The usual.”

Najeri laughed. “My outposts have assured me you are alone. This is good-I would have considered it a personal affront had you deceived me. You need a weapon?”

“Two of them.”

“Good, good. Right this way.” The gun dealer hesitated, then waved him forward. “After you.”

11:40 A.M. Tehran Time

The Alborz Mountains

“Yes, sir. I understand, sir.” Thomas looked out over the mountains, struggling to digest the words of the DCS.

“We’re still looking for another work-around,” Kranemeyer continued. “But until then, it’s on you.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“I know you will, Parker. You’ve been one of our best men.”

Past tense. The words hit Thomas with the impact of a rifle bullet. His vision seemed to cloud suddenly, as though he moved in a trance. He heard Kranemeyer’s final words of good-bye, heard himself respond with a numbed, “Yes, sir.”

The phone clicked off, severing the connection. He turned, handing the phone back to Azad Badir.

His feet seemed to move of their own will, carrying him across the mountain path to a ledge overlooking the valley. The valley of death.

His death.

Thomas had faced death before, but it had never filled him with this unspeakable, crawling horror. It was one thing to face a man with a gun in your hand, even odds of survival. But the plague…

10:32 A.M. Local Time

Ashqelon, Israel

Leaving Beer-sheba, Tex turned south along the highway. The deal with Najeri had gone well, despite the money it had taken. A Belgian-made FN-FAL rifle was disassembled in the trunk of the car, along with a hundred rounds of 7.62mm NATO.

The other half of the purchase was strapped to the Texan’s ankle: a short-barreled.357 Magnum. Some might have considered a semiautomatic a better choice, but he had always been partial to wheelguns. In any case, it was a back-up gun.

If things went well, the guns and car would wind up in the Red Sea following successful termination of the op.

On the other hand, if things went poorly, the eight thousand dollars he had paid Najeri would be money well spent. Preparation. The name of the game.

Tex sighed and checked his GPS. A hundred kilometers to Eilat…

5:30 A.M. Eastern Time

The Oval Office

Washington, D.C.

“What do you hope to gain from this meeting with the Israelis?” President Hancock asked, lifting his eyes from the dossier in front of him. Directors David Lay and Lawrence Bell sat before him, in chairs facing the Resolute desk.

“A more exact understanding of the situation,” the DCIA replied without hesitation. “I have had a long professional relationship with General Shoham-trust me when I say he would not call for this meeting if he did not believe it would be mutually advantageous.”

“Or advantageous to his government,” Hancock countered. “It has been my experience that the Israelis act exclusively in their own interests, as often as not.”

The remark brought a look of disbelief to Lay’s face. “That, of course, is the spy business, Mr. President. There is no free lunch.”

“The meeting goes down in Eilat?” the President continued, ignoring the tacit reproof in Lay’s reply.

“Yes.”

“Who did we send?”

The DCIA stiffened in his chair. “With all due respect, Mr. President, I must refrain from answering the question. You don’t have need-to-know on that aspect of the operation.”

Hancock shot a look of irritation at Lawrence Bell, but didn’t follow up on the question. After an awkward pause, the National Intelligence Director turned to Lay.

“Keep your men on a tight leash, David. Anything they pass on to the Israelis-I want it run through my office first. Do we have an understanding on this?”

“Of course.”

“I believe that concludes my portion of the briefing,” Lay announced twenty minutes later, closing his briefing folder.

Hancock nodded. “Thank you, director. The Secret Service will see you out.”

Director Bell looked up from his papers as the door closed behind Lay. “You foresee problems, Mr. President?”

It took Hancock a moment to respond. “If Israel gets word of the Iranian biological capability, yes. You know how things have been for the last two years, Lawrence. Ever since Prime Minister Shamir’s election.”

Bell nodded. “The mood has been rebellious, to say the least. Expanding Israeli settlements, reoccupying the Gaza strip, sending troops into Lebanon twice,” he continued, ticking them off on his fingers. “Of course, then again, his party swept into power on the heels of the Hamas ambush that took out a half-dozen mid-level Israeli diplomats in the West Bank. He was elected as a hard-liner, and he’s lived up to his campaign promises. And who can blame him?”

“I can,” Hancock said quietly. So quietly, in fact, that Bell wasn’t sure he had heard correctly.

“Excuse me, Mr. President?”