The Sum of All Fears.pdf - Delta Force

demise of Narmonov. It helps to think like a cop in this business. Who profits –
who has motive, that's the test you apply here. Best person to look at this is
Mary Pat.'
'Call her in?' Goodley asked.
'Day like this?'
***
Qati and Ghosn boarded the flight on the first call, taking their first-class
seats and strapping in. Ten minutes later the aircraft pulled back from the gate
and taxied out to the end of the runway. They'd made a smart move, Ghosn
thought. The flight to Dallas had still not been called. Two minutes after that,
the airliner lifted off and soon turned southeast towards the warmer climes of
Florida.
***
The maid was having a bad day already. Most of the guests had left late and she
was way behind on her schedule. She clucked with disappointment at seeing the
keep-out card on one doorknob, but it was not on the other, connecting room, and
she thought it might be a mistake. The flip side of the card was the green 'Make
Up Room NOW' message, and guests often made that mistake. First she went into
the unmarked one. It was easy. Only one of the beds had been used. She stripped
off the linen and replaced it with the speed that came from doing the same job
more than fifty times per day. Then she checked out the bathroom, replaced the
soiled towels, put a new bar of soap in the holder, and emptied the trashcan
into the bag that hung from her cart. Then she had to make a decision – whether
to make up the other room or not. The card on the knob said no, but if they
didn't want it, why didn't they do the same thing for this room? It was worth a
look at least. If anything obviously important was laid out, she'd stay clear.
The maid looked through the open connecting door and saw two ordinarily
messed-up beds. No clothing was on the floors. In fact, the room was as neat
today as it had been the day before. She stuck her head through the door and
looked back towards the wash area. Nothing remarkable there either. She decided
to clean it, too. The maid got behind her cart and turned it to push through the
door. Again she did the beds, then headed back to –
How had she missed that before? A man's legs. What? She walked forward and –
It took the manager over a minute to calm her down enough to understand what she
was saying. Thank God, he thought, that there were no guests on that side of the
motel now; all were off to see the game. The young man took a deep breath and
walked outside, past the coffee shop and around to the back side of the motel.
The door had closed automatically, but his pass-key fixed that.
'My God,' he said simply. At least he'd been prepared for it. The manager was no
fool. He didn't touch anything, but rather walked into the connecting room and
out that door. The desk phone in his office had all the emergency numbers
printed on a small card. He punched up the second one.
'Police.'
'I want to report a murder,' the manager said, as calmly as he could manage.
***
President Fowler set the fax down on the corner table and shook his head. 'It
really is unbelievable that he'd try something so blatant.'