The Project 02 - The Lance

the big wall mirrors. She told herself that anyone who decided to mess with her would be making a big mistake. She told herself she was invulnerable.
    She almost believed it.

CHAPTER NINE

    Carter got out of his bloody clothes. His back was turning colors from where he'd hit the pavement. The disc injuries he'd gotten in the Himalayas sent warning shocks up his spine. He stepped into the shower and turned up the hot, trying to keep the stitches on his leg out of the stream.
    He thought about Selena, how different they were from each other. It was hard to see how people as different as they were had come together. Take family, for instance.
    His family was a mess, a textbook example of dysfunction. His father was an alcoholic bully. His sister was neurotic and angry and married to a total asshole. His mother had been a doormat for his father and now she had Alzheimer's. He'd never had much money and he'd worked his way through school.
    Selena had been raised by a loving, wealthy uncle. She'd gone to the best private schools and when her uncle died he'd left her more money than anyone could ever spend. His death had brought her to the Project. Education, money, background, Carter and Selena might as well be from different planets.
    Carter got out of the shower and dried off. He set the alarm and lay down. He fell asleep .
    He dreamed the dream.

    He's coming in over the ridge again, the rotors echoing from the valley walls, beating out a rhythm of death. The village is like it always is, a shitty, dust-blown cluster of flat-roofed buildings, baking in relentless heat, surrounded by sharp, brown hills. A wide, dirt street runs down the middle.
    His team drops from the chopper and hits the street running, M4 up by his cheek, his Marines behind him. On the right, houses. On the left, more houses and the market. It's just a chaotic mix of ramshackle bins and hanging cloth walls. Clouds of flies swarm around dead things hanging in the butcher’s stall.
    They make their way past the market . He keeps away from the walls, so a round fired won't burrow down a wall and right into him. He hears a baby crying. The street is deserted.
    A dozen bearded figures rise up on the rooftops like ducks popping up in a carnival shooting gallery and begin firing AKs. The market stalls disintegrate in a firestorm of splinters and plaster and rock exploding from the sides of the buildings.
    He ducks into a narrow doorway. A child runs toward him, screaming about Allah. Carter hesitates, a second too long. The boy cocks his arm back and throws a grenade as Nick shoots him. The M4 kicks back, one, two, three.
    The first round strikes the boy's chest, the second his throat, the third his face. The child's head disappears in a red fountain of blood and bone. The grenade drifts through the air in slow motion...everything goes white...

    He woke, heart pounding, drenched in sweat.
    Ghosts. Impressions from the past, his very own personal time machine.
    He waited for dawn.

CHAPTER TEN

    T he Visitor looked out over the lights of Jerusalem.
    A cell phone rang, one of several he kept for these calls.
    " Yes."
    " We have a problem."
    The caller spoke in German, with a slight American accent. The voice was husky, a rasp of cigarettes or whiskey. He might have been in the next block or across the Atlantic. There was no way to tell.
    " Yes?"
    " Our business strategy requires modification. A representative of a rival consortium based in America has arrived. He intends to interfere with our negotiations. Perhaps you could resolve this with him?"
    " His name?"
    "Carter ."
    " You wish me to visit him?"
    " Yes, please do. I am sure you can make a satisfactory arrangement. Your usual consulting fee will be doubled for this assignment."
    " Where is he staying?"
    " At the King David Citadel Hotel. He is one of their best negotiators."
    A pause.
    The Visitor asked, "Is the meeting still on schedule?"
    " It is. Continue supervising the arrangements. An update has been sent to you. Negotiate with our competition."
    " I understand."
    The call ended. The Visitor placed the phone on the floor and crushed it with his heel.
    It was an unexpected assignment, but it shouldn't take long. The Visitor went to his laptop. He opened a program that had never been certified by Microsoft or anyone else and tapped into the reservations computer at the King David Citadel. He noted Carter's room number and the fact that he was in the hotel.
    He tapped another key and brought up an