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this wife of his youth, though he had no comfort of his own. "Tell me
everything is going to be okay,"
she said, her voice cracking in midsentence.
"I wish I could, darling," he replied. "I wish I could."
* * *
Bennett couldn't believe what he was hearing.
But as livid as he was, something inside him told him not to show it, to keep
her talking, to see where this all was leading.
"The attacks on the U.S. the other day they were your idea?" he asked,
fighting to keep his voice steady, not to make her defensive. "No," she
insisted, "they weren't."
"What do you mean?" Bennett asked. "I thought you just said "
But she cut him off. "I met with Tariq in Rome in early February," Rajiv
explained. "I
had left Peter. I had left Langley. I was ready to help him build the
intelligence network he and Al-Hassani needed to control all of North Africa,
the Middle East, Central Asia, and its oil. But the first thing he asked me to
do was help him kill the president."
"Why didn't you say no?"
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"I didn't want to."
"What do you mean?" Bennett asked, incredulous.
"I knew he was right."
"Who?"
"Tariq."
"About killing MacPherson."
"Yes."
"What for?"
"It was the only way," Rajiv said.
"To do what?"
"To humble the world's only superpower," Rajiv insisted. "To show the American
people and the world that she wasn't all-knowing, all-powerful, that she had
weaknesses too, vulnerabilities."
She paused for a moment and stared at the pistol in her hands. "Tariq said all
he needed from me was intelligence how the president moved, how he was
protected, where might be the best place to strike. He said he'd wire me $5
million, and the next day it was there. I knew I couldn't plan an operation
like that from Rome, and he didn't want me anywhere near Babylon. He didn't
want his fingerprints on this thing. So I came here."
"To Yodok?" Bennett asked.
"Well, to Pyongyang, and eventually to a terror training camp a few kilometers
from here."
"But why North Korea?"
"Why not? It's the safest place in the world," Rajiv said. "There are hardly
any foreigners here. The CIA doesn't have any assets on the ground here.
Satellites can't track
me if they don't know I'm here. And who would have expected me to come here?
It was the perfect place to hide."
"Perfect," Bennett asked, "or only?"
Rajiv shrugged. "What's the difference?"
9:43 A.M.-CAMP 15, NORTH KOREA
Rajiv stared at the ceiling for several minutes.
Then she continued her story. Her words were coming fast now, as if she wanted
to get her confession over with as quickly as possible.
"As soon as I arrived, I began building a team," she explained. "I recruited
agents from the Legion and DPRK special forces. We mapped out a plan. I paid
everyone in cash. It was all going fine. But I swear to you, Jonathan, it
wasn't until the last minute that I heard that Tariq and the North Koreans had
decided to go nuclear. Apparently Tariq had concluded that he could not only
kill MacPherson, he could eliminate the U.S. as a current or future threat to
any of the plans he and Al-Hassani were brewing."
"So why did the North Koreans agree?" Bennett asked.
"Because they're psychopaths," Rajiv said. "The leadership in Pyongyang
figured if they worked with Tariq to decapitate the U.S., they could clear the
way to seize the rest of the peninsula, and then Japan."
Bennett felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Something icy was
moving in this room again. He wanted out.
But Rajiv wasn't done. "You have to know, Jonathan, about the alliance that is
being created behind Washington's back."
"Iraq and North Korea?"
"No, that's just the tip of the iceberg," Rajiv insisted. "Babylon is flush
with petrodollars, and they're using them to buy allies. It's not just North
Korea. It's China. It's
India. It's Pakistan. It's Venezuela. It's the E.U. It's Lucente."
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Bennett winced. "Salvador Lucente."
"Bought and paid for by Al-Hassani."
"You sure it's not the other way around?" Bennett asked.
Rajiv shook her head. A cloud seemed to be coming over her at the very mention
of
Lucente's name.
Bennett wasn't so sure she was right about the secretary-general. Lucente had
his own ambitions, he knew all too well. He might be placating Al-Hassani now,
but that could all change in the blink of an eye. Still, for now, none of that
was relevant.
"So," he asked, "why did you call me?"
Tears began to streak down Rajiv's cheeks. "I told you, Jonathan, I didn't
know who else to talk to," she admitted, wiping her eyes but unable to stop
crying. "As soon as I
learned what was about to happen, I was horrified. But I was in no position to
stop it. I never imagined Tariq and the North Koreans would go nuclear. It was
never what I wanted.
You have to believe me."
"How can I?" Bennett asked. "You've just admitted to masterminding the
assassination of the president of the United States."
"But not with nuclear weapons," Rajiv insisted, the tears coming harder now.
"I
wanted to humble America, not annihilate her. I wanted to bring about some
kind of balance, not tip the scales completely."
Bennett sat silently for several minutes, watching Rajiv cry, weighing the
implications of what she had said, what she had done, and wondering what might
happen next. But the truth was, he had no idea what had been set into motion,
or how little time either of them had.
"What have I done?"
Rajiv sobbed.
"I have killed my husband. I have killed my best friend. I have brought about
such shame . . ."
She could not finish the sentence. After another moment, she tried to compose
herself, but it was a losing battle. She got up, dusted herself off, and
walked over to
Bennett. He stood as she approached. The closer she got, the more frail she
looked, and she was shaking now, shaking and pale. Bennett almost felt sorry
for her.
She was holding the 9 mm in one hand. With her other, she reached into her
pocket and pulled out a flash drive. She handed it to Bennett. "Here," she
said, almost in a whisper. "I want you to have this."
"What is it?" Bennett asked, taking the drive.
"Everything," she said, wiping her eyes again. "Names. Dates. Locations.
Amounts.
Plans. Digital photos of documents. Bank records. SWIFT codes. The entire
conspiracy. I
wish it were more. I'm sorry it's too late. But . . ."
Her voice trailed off. Her eyes were glassy, her pupils dilated. "You believe
in heaven, don't you, Jonathan?"
Bennett nodded, surprised by the question.
"Do you think Erin is there?" Rajiv asked.
"I know she is, Indira," Bennett replied.
"When you get there, when you see her, please tell her I'm sorry, will you?"
Rajiv said, the tears coming again, and harder now. "For everything."
"You can tell her yourself when it's time," Bennett said, suddenly wondering
if Rajiv was open to hearing the gospel.
But she shook her head and looked away. "No," she said, though it was almost
to herself. "It's too late for me now."
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