SIXTY FIVE.

    David sat in front of his monitors and sipped a bottle of water.

    Everything was going according to plan. The traffic cameras were all on-line and working properly, his media source had confirmed the Ambassador's appointment at the White House, and the world was watching. Washington D.C. was about to be rocked, and David couldn't have been more pleased with how things were playing out. As he'd predicted, the Israelis had sent their army into Hebron and the international community was busy filing protests. Palestinian suicide bombers were throwing themselves into the breach and making the Israelis pay the price. French Ambassador Joussard was playing his hand perfectly at the UN, and if Omar had been successful in convincing his brother the Crown Prince that now was the time for an embargo, the United States would be boxed in. All that was left to do was raise the level of violence one more notch, and his lifelong dream of a free Palestinian state would be a reality.

    The black limousine came into view on the predetermined screen in the upper left corner. David put the bottle of water down and glanced at the remote firing device sitting in the heavy black case on his right. The bomb was already armed and ready to go. All he needed to do was pop the clear safety cover and press the red button.

    The limousine made a turn and showed up on the next screen.

    David tracked it carefully through the city. It was close to the White House. The explosion would undoubtedly be heard by the President and the Secret Service would go into lockdown mode. David watched with great anticipation as the limousine neared the crucial intersection.

    At this point everything depended on its taking a right turn. David wiped his sweaty palms on his pants and counted the seconds.

    The vehicle began to slow and then just as anticipated it turned onto Virginia Avenue midway between the State Department and the White House. David breathed a brief sigh of relief and looked to the next monitor, his fingers poised above the keyboard, prepared to manipulate the traffic light two intersections away. He could see the parked van now visible on two of the monitors. He entered the proper command and held the traffic light on red for another fifteen seconds.

    The limousine's brake lights came on almost immediately. David popped the plastic cover on the remote firing device and waited. The long black vehicle inched its way into position and then when it was a few feet short David reached over and pressed the red button.