Chapter 15

Callie watched the countryside pass in a blur, the TGV, France’s high-speed train racing at over three hundred kilometers an hour. Across from her Hunter was absorbed in the laptop.

“You promised to tell me what the microdot contained,” she reminded him.

He shut the laptop, pushed it aside, leaned back, and looked out the window.

“You’ve heard about the Israeli-Palestinian peace accord?”

“Sure,” Callie nodded. Everyone knew about it; the single biggest achievement in the past fifty years, all due to President Richards. He was going to have a real legacy in the history books.

Hunter continued. “The peace accord would never have happened three years ago. Yosef Sloman, the Prime Minister at the time, was adamantly opposed to any recognition of Palestine and railed against the UN’s acceptance of a Palestinian State. If you remember, he died of natural causes; a heart attack. It made way for his replacement, Ari Levon. Ari’s a moderate. It was with his support and no small amount of persuasion from President Richards that the accord has been reached. It’s due for ratification in five weeks and will finally bring official recognition of Palestine as a State; bring peace”

“I remember all that. What’s it got to do with us?” Callie asked.

“Your father had information, devastating information that could derail the accord. That’s why he was killed.”

“Like what?”

Hunter was silent for a moment, still looking out the window. He turned to look at her, his obsidian eyes hard.

“Your father had definitive proof that Yosef Sloman’s death was an assassination. In fact, it was President Richards direct order, supported by the Secretary of State and implemented by the CIA; a deliberate plan to alter the political landscape in the Middle East.”

Callie’s mouth fell open in shock. “But, isn’t that illegal?”

“I’m not finished. He had documents showing President Richards is involved in an unsanctioned, ongoing covert effort to bring about the fall of the socialist government in Venezuela in favor of a more moderate, American-friendly government. They’re fueling the social unrest and demonstrations.”

“Holy cow!”

Hunter nodded. “The American government was responsible for your father’s death. They’ll stop at nothing to keep their secret. If the public finds out, it will cause wars to erupt and permanently destroy America’s relationship with Israel, destabilizing the entire Middle East. America will never be trusted again. If they can’t recover this information, they’ll kill to keep it safe. That means they’re prepared to kill you, Callie.”

The magnitude of his comments hit her. Her hands shook. There was no way out! Now, even if they returned the information to the government, she knew their secrets. Hunter knew their secrets. Would the President sacrifice the peace accord and admit to illegal assassination to achieve a political goal just to avoid killing her? Not likely!

“We’re dead, aren’t we?” she asked. “They’ll never stop looking for us.”

Hunter’s face grew hard, like flint, eyes flashing dangerously. It scared her. This was a hard, hard man, not the gentle one she’d fallen for.

“You will not die, Callie. I won’t let them get to you. I promise.”

“How? How can you promise that? There’s a whole government on their side and two of us on the other.”

“I have a plan.”

She studied him and believed him. Relief flooded through her. She trusted him. If he said she’d be alright, she believed him. Wait! A shudder shook her.

“What about you? Can you promise me you won’t die?” she asked.

“No. But I’ll do my best,” he responded with a smile.

“That’s not good enough, Lightfoot!”

“I have the greatest motivation in the world to survive.”

“What?”

“You.”

Callie smiled, despite her nervousness. Hunter had a way of getting to her with few words. A flush of love washed through her. “So where are we going?”

“Back to the States.”

Confused, Callie pointed out, “We’re heading south, to the Mediterranean. Isn’t that the wrong way?”

Hunter smiled. “We’re going to Genoa. I hope you don’t suffer from sea sickness.”

“Why?”

“In three days we sail on the Canada Senator from Genoa to Montreal.”

“A cruise will be nice,” Callie commented, her mind picturing all the amenities; restaurants, swimming pools, shops, sports, shows.

“It’s not a passenger cruise liner. It’s a container ship.”

“Oh.” A bit disappointed, she shrugged. “At least we’ll be together.”

“That we will,” Hunter reassured her. The sudden twinkle in his eyes made her heart beat faster.

“How long is the journey?”

“Fourteen days,” he informed her.