by Roland Smith
“We need to find them,” Norton said.
“If you see the Leopard,” Ziv said, “do not approach her. She will let us know if she needs our help.”
The power came back on.
Boone, Charlie, and Pat blinked to adjust to the sudden light. When they opened them Ziv was gone.
The Library
We didn’t find Chef Conrad. He found us.
He was hiding in a small alcove inside the secret passage, and we walked right by him. He stepped out behind us, holding a butcher knife in one hand and P.K. with the other hand.
“Hey, guys,” P.K. said with a goofy grin, seemingly unaware that a terrorist chef was holding him at knifepoint. “Me and Cheesy are exploring.”
“You okay, P.K.?” I asked, hoping Angela knew how to disarm a chef wielding a butcher knife with tae kwon do.
“I feel great!” P.K. said.
“You drugged him,” Angela said.
“That’s right,” Chef Conrad said. “And I will kill him if you two don’t do as I say.”
“What do you want us to do?” Angela said.
“Go back the way you came. I’ll be right behind you with P.K.”
We turned around and started back down the passage with
Angela in the lead. When we got to the panel, Chef Conrad told us to stop.
“Step on the pressure plate.”
Angela stepped on it and the panel slid open. The lights were back on.
We walked through the opening. P.K. was a little unsteady. His usually bright and alert green eyes were dull and unfocused.
“We will walk to the Library together,” Conrad said. “If we happen to come across anyone and you raise an alarm, I will kill your friend. No one will be able to stop me in time. And if you think I fear for my life, you are wrong. I will gladly die after killing this boy.”
P.K. actually laughed. Apparently, he hadn’t heard the same thing we’d just heard.
We started down the hallway to the Library.
No one was there, which was a relief. If a Secret Service agent saw the four of us walking down the hallway, we wouldn’t have to raise an alarm. The agent would be alarmed and ask us what we were doing.
We stepped into the Library, and Chef Conrad closed the door behind us. It was a beautiful room with floor-to-ceiling cases filled with books. Angela calmly focused on Chef Conrad. I’d seen the look before outside the hospital emergency room in Philadelphia, just before she took out Eben Lavi and the woman he was with. The difference was that Eben didn’t have a knife in his hand or a hostage.
“Don’t do it, Angela,” I said.
She frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“You know what I’m talking about. Trust me. Don’t do it.”
“Do what?” Chef Conrad asked.
“Angela is a black belt in tae kwon do.”
“Are you crazy, Q?” Angela shouted.
I knew something she didn’t know. The Library was missing something, but I couldn’t tell her what it was in front of Chef Conrad.
“Keep your voice down,” Conrad said.
“What now?” I asked.
“You two sit.”
We sat next to each other on a small sofa. I could feel the heat of Angela’s anger coming off her body.
One of the bookcases to our left swung open. The first person through was a dusty Wayne Arbuckle. He was followed by Bethany and Mrs. Arbuckle.
I put my hand on Angela’s knee and squeezed as hard as I could. This got her attention off Mrs. Arbuckle, who was in fact her mother.
“What are they doing here?” Malak said to Conrad. “This wasn’t part of the plan.”
“Hi, Bethany,” P.K. said happily.
“Hi, Willingham,” Bethany said with the same goofy grin on her face that he had.
“They stumbled across me,” Conrad said. “I thought we might take them with us. Their parents are two of the most famous people on earth right now. Twice the impact. If you don’t want to take them, we can kill them right here.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” Malak said. “Give me your knife.”
Conrad handed it to her. Malak turned to Arbuckle. “What do you think?”
“It won’t be easy getting out of here with four hostages,” he answered.
“I agree.”
Malak hit Arbuckle in the throat with her fist, then kicked him in the knee.
Conrad pushed P.K. to the side and lunged for Malak, but Angela was off the sofa like a bullet, using a vicious combination of hand and foot blows. He crumpled to the ground and was out for the count in less than five seconds.
“You’ve been practicing,” Malak said.
“A little,” Angela said.
“A lot.” Malak crossed the room and gave her a hug and a kiss on her forehead. “This will be over soon. I need to go.” She looked at me. “Do you have the note?”
“Right here.”
“You need to get to J.R. right away. Have Norton or Callaghan tell him what’s going on and pass him the note. The agents won’t let Boone within fifty feet of the president. I need five minutes. You might want to tie these guys up before you leave here. We can’t have them wandering around the White House.”
She pointed to Angela’s pack. “You wouldn’t happen to have any rope in there?”
“No,” Angela said. “But Q has a pocketful of tricks. We’ll tie them up.”
Malak took Bethany by the hand and led her to a bookcase on the opposite side of the room. She pulled out a book and pushed something behind it. The case swung open.
“Whoa, another secret passage,” P.K. said.
Malak looked at Angela. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” Angela said.
“Bye, P.K.,” Bethany said.
“Bye, sis,” P.K. said. “Have fun.”
Malak and Bethany stepped through the opening, and the bookcase closed behind them.
I reached into a pocket and pulled out a few lengths of cord that I used for magic tricks. I tossed one to Angela.
“You knew she was coming down here,” Angela said.
“Not exactly. She said that we would find Arbuckle dead or unconscious in the Library. He wasn’t here, so I figure she’d make a deposit before she left.”
“Is he dead?”
I went over and took a look at him. “No, but he’s going to have a sore throat when he wakes up.”
Debriefing
The concert had resumed and was still going on, but Angela and I were two floors above, sitting in the Solarium with Boone and a very angry, very distraught J. R. Culpepper. He was holding Malak’s crumpled note in his hand. Norton and Callaghan had gone down to the Library to get Arbuckle and Conrad out of the White House before anyone discovered them. P.K. was in his bed, sound asleep.
“Do we have any idea where Bethany is?” J.R. asked.
“Not yet,” Boone said. “But we’ll find her. We had the drone up in the air over the area. Callaghan and Norton are taking Arbuckle and Conrad out the same way Malak took Bethany. When they exit we’ll be able to back the surveillance footage up and zero in on her. She had to have a car waiting.”
J.R. shook his head and held the note up. “I’m not sure I can go through with this, Boone. It might be time to call in the cavalry.”
“It’s your daughter,” Boone said. “Your call.”
“What do you think?”
“I think she’s safe with Malak.”
“Malak used Bethany!” J.R. said angrily. “They drugged two of my children!” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
Boone let him settle down, then said, “You have terrorists working in the White House. They could have easily killed P.K. and Bethany. Malak saved them both with some help from Angela and Q.”
“What am I going to tell the media?”
“Tell them that Bethany had a nervous collapse and has been taken to an undisclosed location to recover. Malak’s right. If anyone finds out that Bethany’s been kidnapped
from the White House, the ghost cell wins. If they can get in here, they can get in anywhere.”
“I want the SOS team on this full time until Bethany’s back,” J.R. said.
“That could be a bit of a problem,” Boone said. “I promised Malak that I would protect Angela and Q and Roger and Blaze. I can’t do that if I’m not with them.”
J.R. thought about this for a minute. “You have security on Roger and Blaze?”
“Yeah. Marie and Art, their personal assistants, work for me. But it’s hard for two people to guard four people.”
J.R. looked at me and Angela. “Then let’s split them up. I’ll tell Roger and Blaze that I need them to spend another night here and do a joint press conference with me about the victim fund. I’ll have them flown on Air Force One to their next concert. You, Angela, and Q will leave by motor coach tonight. But of course you won’t be going to the next concert. You’re going to find Bethany.”
Boone looked at us. “You think your parents will go for that?”
Angela nodded. “We can talk them into it.”
J.R.’s cell phone buzzed. He looked at the screen and then looked at me. “Is this a joke?”
“What are you talking about?”
“It says I have a text message from you.”
I patted my pockets, then remembered. “I left my phone down in the East Room.”
“You didn’t put my private number in your contacts, did you?”
“Of course not,” I said. “It’s on the back of my watch.”
J.R. hit a button and read the text. “ ‘Bethany is safe. I’ll be in touch. Malak.’ ”
“She took my phone,” I said.
Boone pulled his BlackBerry out and hit the tracking icon.
“She’s on I-95, headed south,” he said.
J.R. nodded. “Get her back, Boone.”