4 Rainy Days and Monday by Robert Michael Page B

they know more about us than anyone in history.”
    He turned to her, his grey eyes hard and unyielding.
    “Then our colleagues need to cut their ties to these foreign countries. Security leaks are going to expose us. Our society has been kept a secret for millennia. We have enshrouded ourselves in mystery and money. Just because Andronicus has chosen a poor time to come from the closet, does not mean we cannot go back to the enigma we once were,” he said, his voice flat and accusing.
    He blamed her for her support of Andronicus in his early, more idealistic days. Antiochus could not let it go. He could not forgive his brother that he had slept with Beatrice. Or that she had chosen his brother over him.
    She supposed that this petty jealousy was a perverted indication of what could pass for love. It did not matter to her. It was in concert with her goals, so she encouraged it without directly drawing the words from him. She knew that often with men, the confession of love was the murder of the emotion within them.
    She kept her voice level as she turned away from him and pulled a loose sheet across her shoulders.
    “I agree. You are right. We have to cut off our connections with America immediately. Speaker Rodman will be on his own. Let us hope they do not get to him or suspect who he really is. He is our only hope to stem this tide.” She crossed to a dresser and grabbed a pin to pull her hair up. The stone floor was cool on her bare feet.
    She turned to Antiochus and watched his eyes admire her figure. She put her hands behind her head and allowed the sheet to fall away from her shoulders.
    He caught his breath.
    “Do you think Andronicus suspects our plan?” he asked, his eyes narrowing. She could see his anger softening.
    “If he does, we will have to feed him to the wolves,” she said.
    Antiochus grimaced as if he were haunted by a memory. Beatrice had heard the stories, but Antiochus had not shared the tales of his childhood. Yet. That was for another time.
    “Andronicus is too much like father,” he said, again repeating one of her own accusations. “He will fall upon his sword or he will overstep his abilities. He is too ambitious.”
    “The others do not trust him,” she said.
    Antiochus frowned, his gaze wandering.
    “Rashidi wants him to succeed,” he said, biting his lip.
    “Rashidi is dying. He wants anyone to succeed. He considered Andronicus his son.”
    Antiochus shook his head in disappointment.
    “Why do old men find Andronicus so capable?”
    “Like you said, he is like your father. At least The Scot and the others do not find him as capable.”
    Antiochus cheered up at this.
    He laughed through his nose.
    “Did you see his face? He actually thought he had friends at the table.”
    “And his only friend was Rashidi, whom he disappointed and alienated in his attempt to cover his shame,” she said.
    She took a drink of wine from the bar and allowed the fading light to play across her body. She liked its warm fingers across her skin.
    “Will SARC work?” he asked, patting the thick pillow-top king mattress.
    She put the wine glass aside and sauntered back to the bed, a sly and knowing smile snaking its way across her face.
    “No. But we have to hope that Andronicus believes that it will,” she said.

Chapter Eleven
    Safety in Numbers
    H allie came in as Frank was adjusting his tie in the mirror. He was frowning. She caught him unaware. He saw her movement in his peripheral vision and put on a slim smile that he hoped covered his despair.
    She came up to him and fixed the knot.
    “I made some lasagna for dinner. You want to join us downstairs before you go in?” Hallie said, staring at his tie. She rarely looked him in the eye.
    This was perhaps Frank’s most difficult assignment. His strength as a surrogate family unit for the DOJ and US Marshall’s office Witness Protection Program was that he was able to be both a believable caregiver and a detached professional. He was