Target

by Cindy Dees

  “We’re going to need a statement from you, ma’am.”

  Diana turned to the policeman and laughed. “You, and the FBI, and the Secret Service, and every television network in creation. No problem.”

  She started as her cell phone rang again and fumbled for it in her pocket with frozen fingers. She pulled it out hastily and flipped open the phone.

  A male voice spoke urgently in her ear without preamble. “Diana? Are you all right?”

  “Gabe? Is that you? Are you okay?”

  Gabe’s rich voice replied urgently, “I’m fine. Are you all right? Tell me you weren’t hurt in that blast.”

  “No, no, I’m fine. I just got knocked down. No injuries. And you? You didn’t get hurt at all?”

  He laughed, sounding vastly relieved. “I was sitting in an armored car. It didn’t mess up a single hair on my head. I think the only injuries I sustained were when a three-hundred-pound Secret Service agent landed on top of me and wouldn’t get off me for about a week.”

  Diana laughed aloud in her relief. “He was just doing his job.”

  Gabe groused lightly, “Well, it wasn’t nearly as much fun as having you plastered all over me.”

  Diana blinked, startled. She replied soberly, “Well, I’m just glad you’re safe.”

  He replied equally seriously, “And I’m glad that you’re safe. I’ve had the White House operator trying to call your cell phone for the last half hour, and when you didn’t answer, I was really worried.”

  “Uh, well, I was a little busy. I just chased down the guy who lobbed the satchel charge at you. With the help of a dozen D.C. police officers, we just arrested him.”

  “I’ll tell Owen.”

  She heard Gabe’s voice faintly over the open phone line as he told his security chief the news. She heard exclamations in the background from several people.

  Gabe came back on the line. “Owen wants to talk to you. Right away. He wants to know everything you know about what just happened and who did it.”

  That was understandable. “I’m with the Metro police right now. They want me to go down to the station and make a full statement to them. I expect it’ll take a couple of hours.”

  She waited while Gabe relayed that information to Owen Haas.

  Gabe came on the line again. “Owen doesn’t want to wait that long. I’ve still got to get inaugurated today, and he wants a complete threat assessment ASAP so he can take whatever precautions are necessary.” Murmured voices in the background interrupted him, and then he said, “Owen will take care of it. He’s going to call the cops and explain to them that they’re going to have to wait for their statement.”

  “I’m at Owen’s disposal. I’ll do whatever I can to help protect you.”

  Gabe answered quietly, “Thanks. I wish I had more friends like you.”

  Abashed, she changed the subject. “Is Wolfe there with you?”

  “Lord, no. In a crisis like this, they separate us so at least one of us will survive whatever attack comes.”

  Of course. She asked, “So how am I supposed to link up with Owen to brief him?”

  “Just a sec.” Gabe went off-line again and came back. “He says to have the police drive you to your home. Owen will have one of his guys pick you up there in two hours. He’s got some security arrangements to finish up for…later, and then he’ll have time to talk.”

  “Does he know where I live?” she asked in surprise.

  Gabe answered dryly, “If he doesn’t, he will soon.”

  She laughed. “Big Brother’s watching me, huh?”

  Gabe laughed back. “Something like that. These Secret Service guys have nutty access to information when it pertains to a threat against the Presidency.”

  Gee, sort of like Oracle.

  “Speaking of information, Owen says he wants to know if you had anything to do with a set of pictures he was faxed a few minutes ago of a bunch of guys.”

  “What sort of pictures?” she asked cautiously.

  “He says they’re computer printouts of fourteen guys, all in the twenty-five to forty or so age range. Some of the pictures look like they came off driver’s licenses. One is marked as a student ID. A couple are immigration photos.”

  The sheaf of pictures she’d dropped in front of the Chaosium Café. Her hacker buddies had come through for her. They’d figured out who Owen Haas was and sent the pictures to him.

  “That’s the Q-group cell, or most of it I think, that attacked you today.”

  Gabe swore quietly and relayed the information to Owen, but came back on the line quickly. “Owen says he’ll have a guy at your house in one hour. Can you be there that soon?”

  She looked at the policemen milling around her. “The trick is going to be getting the cops I’m with now to release me.”

  Gabe retorted, “Owen will take care of that. You just be home in an hour.”

  She replied lightly, “For you Gabe, I’ll move Heaven and Earth to be there.”

  Silence greeted that remark. Oops. Had she overstepped her bounds? Her and her irreverent mouth. “I’m sorry. That was a joke. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, sir. I’ll be ready in an hour.”

  Gabe retorted quickly, “You didn’t make me uncomfortable. And for God’s sake, please don’t start calling me sir. I like Gabe a whole lot better coming from you. And Diana?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m looking forward to seeing you again.”

  Well, okay then. It was her turn to stammer and stutter into a loaded silence. Finally, she managed to choke out, “I’d better get going if I’m going to be home in time to meet Owen’s man.”

  She hung up reluctantly and stared at the phone for a moment after its glowing face went dark. She shook herself out of her reverie and looked up at the nearest police officer. “Who’s in charge around here?”

  The cop pointed to a man in a suit and she strode over to the detective in charge. “Hi, my name’s Diana Lockworth. I wanted to give you a heads-up that within the next couple minutes, a Secret Service agent named Owen Haas is going to get in touch with you or your superiors. He’s in charge of Gabe Monihan’s security detail, and he needs to speak to me right away. I realize you guys need a complete statement from me, but Haas is going to pull rank and declare some sort of Presidential Security necessity to talk to me first.”

  The detective sighed in resignation. “I probably should’ve expected that. But I’ve got to have a statement out of you in the next twenty-four hours so I can charge Albadian. If Monihan’s people screw that up…” He scowled in frustration and didn’t finish the remark.

  She felt sorry for the guy. He was just trying to do his job and handle this case perfectly so there’d be no chance of Albadian slipping through the justice system’s fingers. She asked, “Would a tape-recorded statement from me work for you guys?”

  “As a preliminary statement, yeah, it would.”

  “How about this, then?” she proposed. “You guys can give me a ride back to my house where I’m supposed to meet Haas’s men, and I’ll tape a verbal statement in the car on the way there.”

  The detective nodded. “That would work. Hey, Frankie!”

  Another policeman walked up to them. “Yeah?”

  “This lady’s going to need a ride to her house, and I need you to go with her and take a taped statement from her en route.”

  The cop frowned at the highly irregular procedure.

  The detective’s cell phone rang, and he pulled it out. He glanced up at Diana. “Right on cue. It’s the Chief of Police.”

  She listened to the detective’s end of the short call, and sure enough, he was given orders to delay interviewing her and get her home right away. Good thing she’d given him the heads-up and an alternative plan. He didn’t waste any time arguing with his boss and probably earned brownie points when he mentioned he planned to get a taped statement from her in the car en route. In a matter of seconds, Frankie had scared up a pocket Dictaphone and led her toward
one of the clustered police cars blocking the street.

  She passed by a squad car and glanced at it. She jumped as Albadian glared out at her. Through the glass, he mouthed, “You’ll die, bitch.”

  She nodded back at him grimly. She might at that. But not today.

  4:00 P.M.

  T he police got Diana across town in record time, but it was a breeze with the streets so deserted. Everyone was no doubt plastered to their TV sets or flat-out hiding from further possible terrorist attacks. Some brave new world it was turning out to be. She made a brief statement into the tape recorder her police escort shoved under her nose. She started her narrative at the point of seeing Albadian moving through the crowd with a backpack and thinking it looked suspicious. She might eventually tell the police how she recognized Albadian and how she knew to look for him in the first place, but first she needed to talk to Owen Haas and Delphi, and let them determine how much got released to whom about this threat to the President-elect.

  When she got home, she had about a half hour before Owen’s man was due to arrive. Thank goodness. She couldn’t wait to get this awful black dye out of her hair. She jumped into the shower and turned the temperature up as high as she could stand it. As she thawed out, she edged the temperature up higher and higher until her skin turned pink and her bathroom filled with thick steam. Although she could stay in there happily for an hour, duty called. Three vigorous shampoos later, she stepped out of the shower, blond once more.

  She dried off, blow-dried her hair quickly and dressed in a tailored wool pantsuit and matching turtleneck. The pale blue fabric had a touch of Lycra in it and followed the contours of her body closely. It was one of her favorite outfits. It was fully classy enough to see the President-elect of the United States in, but it was still comfortable, and just sexy enough to give a girl confidence. She put on a touch of makeup for good measure. She might not get to see Gabe when she talked to Owen this afternoon, but she wasn’t taking any chances. She was going to look her best for once.

  Five minutes early, a knock sounded on her front door. The Secret Service must subscribe to the same definition of what constituted being on time as the Army did. If you weren’t five minutes early, you were late. She opened the door. And started in surprise. She’d expected a burly, serious Secret Service agent in a conservative suit, but instead her older sister stood there, looking better than any woman had a right to in a long, red coat.

  Diana gaped. “What are you doing here?” she finally managed to say.

  “Well, gee, you don’t have to sound so thrilled to see me!” Josie exclaimed. “The family’s been frantic about you. When Gramps’ car got to the Pentagon and you were already gone, he got all worried about you. Then that bomb went off downtown, and the phone lines are all jammed, and you didn’t answer your phone-let’s just say Mom and Dad are panicked. They sent me over here to check on you.”

  She’d been gone when her grandfather’s car had reached the Pentagon? Then who…? “I didn’t know you were in town,” Diana mumbled, stepping back from the door to let her sister inside before Josie ran her over and forced her way in.

  “Diego had a couple meetings at the Pentagon and I had some shopping to take care of, so I took a couple of days’ leave and came with him. Mom wanted to visit Gramps so she tagged along. They’ve got some…catching up…to do.”

  Now there was a delicate word for it. Her mother and grandfather had a huge rift to heal between them. He’d never been able to accept Zoe Lockworth’s clinical depression and had railed at her irresponsibility for wallowing in it for years. Now that the antidote had been found, Joseph Lockworth had some serious crow to eat with his daughter-in-law, and she had some serious forgiving to do.

  Fortunately, she and Josie had already worked out most of their differences. When she’d flown out to California to help Josie, and got shot in the process, it had gone a long way toward reminding them what was most important among families. She just wished she could’ve helped Josie complete clearing their mother’s name. Heck, she just wished she could do something noteworthy all by herself for once without Josie coming to the rescue.

  Diana commented lightly to her sister, “As you can see, I’m just fine. You can report back to the clan that I’m alive and well.”

  “Thank God,” Josie replied fervently. “What a mess. Did you see it on TV? What do you think happened?”

  Diana bit her lip and said nothing. Hopefully, Sis would interpret her noncommittal shrug as ignorance.

  Josie barged into the living room, shedding her coat as she went. “We need to talk.”

  Oh, Lord. Not now. The Secret Service guy would be here any second. Diana said with thin patience, “Look, Sis. I’m expecting someone in just a few minutes. Can’t this wait?”

  Josie plunked down on the sofa and crossed her elegant legs. “You can’t keep running away from Mom forever. You’re going to have to talk to her sometime.”

  “I have talked to her. We’re fine. She’s better and I’m glad.”

  Josie rolled her eyes.

  Damn. She never was any good at BSing her older sister. Josie had always been smarter, wiser, more in control in family situations.

  “Diana, when are you going to stop running away from everything that’s the slightest bit difficult in your life? You’ve got to grow up and be responsible sometime.”

  Right. As if she wasn’t being responsible by busting her butt and putting her neck on the line to save the next President’s life. That’s why she’d been chosen for Oracle and was one of the leading conspiracy theorists in the country. Because she was so freaking irresponsible. Thing was, it was all so secret she couldn’t tell anyone, not even her well-meaning family, about it.

  “When are you going to get off my back and let me be my own person?” Diana sighed.

  Josie’s perfectly plucked eyebrows arched. “I’m not on your back and you know it. And when haven’t you been your own person? You’ve always done exactly what you wanted to.”

  How wrong Josie was. Most of her adolescence had been shaped by doing the exact opposite of her older sister. It had never been about rebellion. It had always been about struggling to come out from behind her sister’s giant shadow. The true rebellion came later. When the strictures of an Army career started to grate on her.

  “Tell me something, Jo. Do you ever get tired of the Air Force? Tired of all the rules and regulations and people telling you what to do all the time?”

  Her sister frowned. “No, not particularly. Why do you ask?”

  Diana remembered that flashback of her life on the Mall, the shocking realization that she rebelled within the Army because she was still angry over what the Establishment had cost her-the love of a mother, a unified family living under one roof, a normal childhood.

  Diana answered belatedly, “I was thinking about everything that’s happened to the two of us, and I wondered why you came out of it so calm about what happened to Mom while I…well…while I didn’t.”

  “What ever gave you the idea I was calm about Mom’s problems?” Josie exclaimed.

  Diana stared. “You mean you weren’t okay with it all?”

  Josie snorted. “I was terrified. And furious, and frustrated and a hundred other things. But I couldn’t change it and neither could Mom. So I accepted it.”

  And maybe that’s where the two of them were so different. Josie could accept the inevitable, while she’d fight against it until she bloodied herself trying to change it. Which category did Gabe fall into? He had Josie’s refinement, her controlled elegance, her ability to fit in and play by the rules. But he was also a politician. The mother of all politicians, in fact, to have run for his country’s highest office. Surely somewhere beneath that polished exterior, he secretly wanted to change the world or else he wouldn’t have chosen to pursue that particular job.

  “What’s going on with you, Die Hard?” Josie asked.

  Diana smiled at the old nickname from their Athena Academy days. She used to hate t
he name. But this past year had seen a lot of healing between the sisters. Now she used it proudly as a computer handle. She opened her mouth to reply when a knock at the front door saved her from having to skirt the truth. Which was just as well. Josie was so sharp, she’d know for certain something big was going down.

  Diana stood up to answer the door. Over her shoulder she said, “That’s the guy I was expecting.”

  “Great!” Josie said brightly. “I can’t wait to meet your latest-uh…”

  It was a long-standing source of friction between her and her family that Diana managed to dredge up the scum of the earth on a routine basis, and then proceeded to date it. She grinned to herself. This should be fun. Wait till Josie got a load of a Secret Service agent. Please let this guy be built like a linebacker and have one of those severe crew cuts so many of them seemed to favor.

  He was and he did. Grinning to herself, Diana opened the front door wider so her sister could get a good look at him.

  “There you are! Come on in,” Diana said to the agent warmly, as if she’d known this guy a long time. “I’ve just got to go grab my coat. I’ll be back in a second. This is my sister, Josie. Don’t let her interrogate you.”

  The agent threw her a surprised look, but nodded stolidly.

  Diana broke into a wide grin as she stepped around the corner and heard her sister’s startled voice murmuring a polite greeting. Served Josie right for meddling in her private life. Of course, if Josie found out she had a crush on the soon-to-be President of the United States, her sister would have a stroke. It would almost be worth spilling the beans to good ole Jo just to see it.

  Diana grabbed a cream-colored cashmere dress coat from the back of her closet. It had been an extravagant gift from her mother last Christmas, but she hadn’t worn it yet. When Josie had pressed her on why she never wore the gorgeous designer piece, she’d claimed it didn’t fit her fashion style. But, as Diana tore off the tags and slipped her arms into its sleeves for the first time, she admitted it had probably been more about avoiding what the coat represented-a peace offering from her mother. Today she was just thankful she had something this nice to wear for Gabe.