Tom Clancy's op-center_ acts of war - Tom Clancy [99]
American Deputy Chief of Mission Eugenie Morris had been the overnight house guest of charismatic Turkish automobile magnate Izak Bora. Because the U.S. consulate in Istanbul was secondary to the embassy in Ankara, commercial as well as political interests were dealt with here in a less formal, less bureaucratic manner. The forty-seven-year-old diplomat had gone to a dinner party at Mr. Bora's yali with American business representatives, and had stayed until all the other guests had left. Then she had dismissed her driver and a second car carrying two members of the Diplomatic Security Agency. These men literally rode shotgun for any official who went out on government or private business. DSA agents were authorized to use appropriate force to protect their charges. And because they were attached to an embassy or consulate, they were immune from prosecution for their actions.
When the two cars returned at seven a.m. the following morning, Eugenie was waiting inside the foyer of the yali with Mr. Bora. A liveried butler opened the door for them and then followed, carrying the guest's overnight bag. One DSA agent waited outside the low iron gates of the mansion as the portly businessman walked her along the short, stone path. The other agents sat behind the wheel with the motor running. Behind the mansion, the Bosphorus sparkled whitely in the early morning sunlight. The leaves of the trees and the petals of the flowers in the garden also shone brightly.
Eugenie stopped when her host did. He waved his hands at a hornet which seemed intent on nesting in his hooked nose. The DSA agent stood with his wrists crossed in front of him. His hands were inside his dark sports jacket, ready to draw his.38 if necessary. In the car, behind the nearly opaque bullet-proof windows, his companion had a sawed-off shotgun and an Uzi at his disposal.
Mr. Bora ducked in an ungainly fashion, then watched with triumph as the hornet flew off toward the water. Eugenie applauded his maneuver, and they continued toward the gate.
A motorcycle hummed in the distance. The DSA agent standing by the fence half turned to keep an eye on it as it approached. There was a boy sitting tall in the seat, wearing a black leather jacket and a white helmet. There was a canvas messenger's bag slung around his neck with the tops of envelopes sticking out. The DSA agent looked for telltale bulges under his jacket and in his pocket. The fact that the jacket was tightly zippered made it unlikely that he'd be reaching inside for a weapon. The agent kept an eye on the bag. The cyclist continued on past the cars without slowing.
As the agent looked back toward the compound, something fell from the thick canopy of leaves. Both Eugenie and Mr. Bora stopped to look at it as it clunked on the stones at their feet.
The DSA agent tried and failed to open the gate as he looked at the top of the tree. "Get back!" he shouted as the hand grenade exploded.
Before the couple could move, a gray-white cloud erupted on the walk. At once, the boom of the grenade was followed by the dull thucks and metal clangs of shrapnel as it struck tree, iron, and flesh. The DSA agent fell away from the gate; his chest shattered. Eugenie and Mr. Bora went down as though they'd been cut down by a scythe. Both writhed on the walk where they fell.
A moment after the explosion, the driver of the state car shifted it forward. He rammed through the open gate with his steel-reinforced fender, then pulled up beside the fallen Deputy Chief of Mission. Behind him came the DSA car. The driver swung it around sideways and emerged with a shotgun. Protected by the car, he stood and fired into the treetops. His