Dead Heat by Joel C. Rosenberg

Author:Joel C. Rosenberg
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2010-03-06T03:00:00+00:00

10:51 A.M.-A REFUGEE CAMP IN NORTHERN JORDAN

Bennett had no time to argue.

He needed to be at the airport in Amman by noon, and it was already rapidly approaching eleven. But Dr. Kwamee didn't like the situation one bit.

"I'm telling you as plainly as I can, Mr. Bennett," he insisted. "I don't think it's wise to move your wife yet. I understand you have an urgent appointment overseas. That's fine. Go on without her. But don't put her life in jeopardy. I'll take care of Miss Erin for a few more days—no more than a week. When she's ready, I promise, I'll send her to you by medevac, wherever you are. In the meantime, I will personally see to it that she is safe and well cared for. You have my word."

Bennett wouldn't hear of it. He wasn't going to leave Erin behind. Transporting her now was a risk, he knew, but he had no choice. Erin was still sleeping. He didn't want to wake her or tell her what was happening. Not yet. It would devastate her, and she needed all the rest she could get. So he was moving forward by faith, if not by sight.

"Erin's coming with me," he said firmly, worried he was about to lose his patience. "With all due respect, Dr. Kwamee—and I appreciate all you've done for her, and for me; I really do—I'm not asking for your permission. I'm asking for your help."

"I understand," the doctor said. "I just think it's a terrible risk."

"I fully understand the risk."

"I don't think you do," the doctor replied.

"Nevertheless," Bennett said, his impatience growing, "I need to move quickly."

Bennett stared into the doctor's eyes, and the man finally relented.

"You need to get her to Amman?" Dr. Kwamee asked.

"Right."

"And you'll have transportation waiting for you there?"

"Yes," Bennett said. "It's all being taken care of."

"Will there be a doctor on board that flight?"

"Absolutely," Bennett replied. "I've explained her situation to my contacts. I've been assured they're making all the arrangements."

"You realize we have no helicopters here at the camp right now." Bennett nodded.

"We'll have to drive her by ambulance," Dr. Kwamee explained.

"Of course."

"It's about eighty kilometers—almost fifty miles—and, as you know, the roads are very bad. They were bad before all this destruction. They're much worse now."

"I understand," Bennett said. "Now please, we need to move fast."

There was no way he was going to tell this man what he was really up to, not even a man who had saved his wife's life. But the plan that was now in motion had very specific time elements built in, and Bennett knew there was no time to spare.

The NSA had, in fact, been able to trace the satphone call to an office building in the center of Bangkok. U.S. special forces were being sent to the Thai capital at that very moment to raid the office building and hunt down the caller and his cronies. To buy time, the secretary of defense had personally authorized a wire transfer of $25 million into the account of Bennett's mystery caller.

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