Annabelle drummed her fingers on the worn steering wheel. “So what do we do?”
Stone studied the Capitol dome in the distance. “You play poker?”
“I don’t like to gamble,” she answered with a straight face.
“Well, Caleb’s their full house. So we need at least that or better to be able to play this hand. And I know where to get the cards we need.” However, Stone knew that his plan would test the limits of friendship to the max. Yet he had no choice. He punched in the number, which he knew by heart.
“Alex, this is Oliver. I need your help. Badly.”
Alex Ford sat forward in his chair at the Secret Service’s Washington Field Office.
“What’s going on, Oliver?”
“It’s a long story, but you need to hear it all.”
When Stone finished, Ford sat back and let out a long breath. “Damn.”
“Can you help us?”
“I’ll do my best.”
“I’ve got a plan.”
“I hope you do. It sounds like we don’t have much time to pull this together.”
Albert Trent left Capitol Hill that evening and drove home. Leaving Route 7, he followed the meandering back roads to his isolated neighborhood. He slowed as he approached the last turn before his driveway. A pickup truck had run off the road and hit something. An ambulance and a utility truck were there along with a police car. A uniformed cop was standing in the middle of the road. Trent drove cautiously ahead until the policeman stepped forward with his hand up. Trent rolled down his window and the cop leaned in.
“I’m going to have to ask you to turn around, sir. That truck skidded off the road and hit an aboveground natural gas pressure regulator and caused a major surge in the pipes. Damn lucky he didn’t blow himself and the neighborhood sky-high.”
“But I live right around the bend. And I don’t have gas in my house.”
“Okay, I’ll need to see some ID with your address on it.”
Trent dug into his jacket pocket and handed the officer his driver’s license. The cop hit it with his flashlight and then handed it back.
“All right, Mr. Trent.”
“How soon will they fix it?”
“That’s a question for the gas company. Oh, one more thing.”
He reached his other hand in the window and sprayed something from a small canister directly into Trent’s face. The man coughed once and slumped over in his seat.
On cue, out of the ambulance stepped Stone, Milton and Reuben. With the cop’s help Reuben lifted Trent out of the car and into another car that pulled forward, Annabelle at the wheel. Alex Ford emerged from the ambulance and handed Stone a leather canvas knapsack. “You need me to show you how to use it again?”
Stone shook his head. “I’ve got it. Alex, I know this is a stretch for you, and I really appreciate it. I didn’t know where else to turn.”
“Oliver, we’ll get Caleb back. And if this is the spy ring that people have been whispering about and we can bust it, you guys all deserve medals. When you get the call, let us know the details. I’ve got multiagency support on this. Just so you know, I didn’t have to beg for volunteers on this one because a lot of guys are itching to nail these bastards.”
Stone climbed into the car with the others.
“And now we play the hand,” Annabelle said.
“Now we play the hand,” Stone affirmed.
CHAPTER 63
THE CALL CAME AT PRECISELY ten o’clock. Stone and the rest of the group were in a downtown hotel suite. The man on the other end started to dictate the time and place to meet, but Stone cut him off.
“We’re not going to do that. We have Albert Trent. You want him back, then we’ll do an exchange on our terms.”
“That is not acceptable,” the voice said.
“Fine, then we turn your buddy over to the CIA and they can ‘coax’ the truth out of him, including naming names, and believe me, what I’ve seen of Trent, it won’t take long. You won’t even have time to pack a bag before the FBI knocks down your door.”
“Do you want your friend to die?” the man snapped.
“I’m telling you how they both can live, and you can avoid going to prison for the rest of your life.”
“How do we know this isn’t a trick?”
“How do I know you’re not planning to put a bullet into me when I show up? Simple, we have to trust each other.”
There was a long pause. “Where?”
Stone told him where and when.
“Do you realize what tomorrow will be like down there?”
“That’s why I picked it. We’ll see you at noon. And one more thing: If you harm Caleb, I will kill you personally.” Stone clicked off and turned to the others.
Milton looked fearful but determined. Reuben was examining the contents of the leather pack Alex Ford had given them. Annabelle’s gaze was directly on Stone.
Stone went over to Reuben. “How’s it look?”
He held up two syringes and two bottles of liquid. “Amazing stuff, Oliver. What will they think of next?”
Stone walked into the adjoining room, where an unconscious Albert Trent was strapped to the bed. Stone stood there, fighting a strong impulse to attack the sleeping man who’d caused them all such pain.
A minute later he rejoined the others. “Tomorrow will be a long day, so we need to get some sleep. We’ll run two-hour shifts watching Trent. I’ll take the first one.”
Milton immediately curled up on the couch while Reuben lay down on one of the double beds. Both men were asleep within a few minutes. Stone went back into the other room, sat down in a chair next to Trent and stared at the floor. He jerked when Annabelle pulled up a chair beside his and handed him a cup of coffee she’d made. She was still dressed in jeans and a sweater, but her feet were bare. She curled one long leg under her as she sat down.
He thanked her for the coffee and added, “You should get some sleep.”
“I’m more of a night person, actually.” She glanced at Trent. “So what are the odds of everything going perfectly tomorrow?”
“Zero,” Stone answered. “It’s always zero. Then you do all you can to beat that number, but sometimes it’s out of your hands.”
“You speak from experience, don’t you?”
“What else do you speak from?”
“Bullshit, like most people, but not you.”
He sipped his coffee and stared off. “Alex Ford is a good man. I’d go into battle with him anytime. I have, in fact. We actually have a decent shot at doing this clean.”
“I want to kill that little creep,” she said, watching the unconscious Trent.
Stone nodded and ran his gaze over the man. “He looks like a mouse, a desk jockey, which is exactly what he is, to most people. Wouldn’t hurt a fly. He just gets other people to do it for him, and this cruelty has no limit because he doesn’t have to see it or dirty his hands. Because of people like him, our country has been put at great risk.”
“All for money?”
“I’ve known some to claim it was about a cause, about following their beliefs, even about the excitement, but it’s always really about the money.”
She eyed him curiously. “You’ve known other traitors?”
He glanced sideways at her. “Why do you find any of this interesting?”
“I find you interesting.” When he remained silent, she said, “We were talking about other traitors?”
He shrugged. “I’ve known more of them than I cared to. But I didn’t know them for long.” He rose and went over to the window. “In fact, most of them I only saw for a few seconds before they died,” he added barely in a whisper.
“Is that what you were? The assassin of American traitors?” Stone’s shoulders tensed and she added hurriedly, “I’m sorry, John, I shouldn’t have said that.”
He turned to face her. “I guess I failed to mention that John Carr is dead. So why don’t you make it ‘Oliver’ from now on?” He sat back down with
out looking at her. “I really think you need to get some sleep.”
As she rose to leave, she glanced back. Stone sat rigid in the chair seemingly staring at Albert Trent, but Annabelle didn’t believe the man was looking at the handcuffed spy. His thoughts were probably far in the past, perhaps recollecting how to give a bad man a quick death.
Not that far away Roger Seagraves was marshaling his own team, trying to anticipate every move the other side would make. He hadn’t been back to his house because he’d suspected something had happened to Trent. He and his partner had implemented a system whereby each would call the other by a certain time in the evening if everything was okay. He obviously hadn’t gotten that call. Their capturing Trent complicated matters but didn’t make things insurmountable. He had to assume that Oliver Stone and the others had gone to the authorities by now, so there were several levels of opposition he would have to bust through to get Trent clear, if the man hadn’t already ratted him out. However, rather than fearing tomorrow, Seagraves was looking forward to it. It was such times that the man lived for. And it was only the best man that would survive. And Seagraves was certain he would be that man tomorrow. Just as certain as he was that Oliver Stone and his friends would be dead.
CHAPTER 64
THE NEXT DAY BROKE CLEAR AND warm. Stone and the others left the hotel, transporting Trent in a large trunk that they loaded into a van. Inside the van, Stone squatted over Albert Trent and gave him an injection in the arm using one of the syringes. He waited ten minutes and then injected Trent with the other syringe. A minute later the man’s eyes fluttered open. As he came to, Trent looked wildly around and tried to sit up.
Stone pressed a hand against his chest and then took a knife out of a sheath on his belt. Holding the blade in front of Trent’s quivering face, he slid it between the man’s skin and the gag, severing the cloth.
Trent said in a shaky voice, “What are you doing? I’m a federal employee. You could go to jail for this.”
“Save it, Trent. We know everything. And if you don’t do anything stupid, we’re going to give you up for Caleb Shaw in a nice, easy exchange. But if you don’t cooperate, I’ll kill you myself, or would you rather spend the rest of your life in prison for treason?”
“I have no idea—”
Stone held the blade up. “That’s not what I meant by being cooperative. We have the book and the code and the evidence that you set up Bradley to be killed. And we know about Jonathan DeHaven and Cornelius Behan. And you almost added me and her to your bag, but we decided it wasn’t our time to go.” He inclined his head in Annabelle’s direction.
She said, smiling, “If you’re going to have thugs jump people at your house and then try and murder them, you shouldn’t stand in a spot where the mirror captures your reflection, Al. And if it were up to me, I’d slit your throat and toss your body in a landfill. That’s where you’re supposed to deposit garbage, right?”
Stone unlocked the handcuffs around the man’s hands and feet. “We’re doing a one-to-one exchange. We get Caleb, you go free.”
“How can I be sure of that?”
“The same way Caleb can be, you just have to trust. Now get up!”
Trent rose on shaky legs and looked at the others arrayed around him in the back of the van. “Are you the only ones who know? If you’ve called in the police—”
“Just shut up,” Stone snapped. “And I hope you have your fake passport and plane tickets ready.”
Reuben opened the van doors and they all stepped out, with Trent in the middle.
“My God,” Trent said, “what the hell is going on here?” He was looking at a sea of people.
Stone said, “Don’t you read the papers? It’s the National Book Festival on the Mall.”
“And a march against poverty,” Milton added.
“Two hundred thousand people total,” Reuben chimed in. “What a great day in the capital city. Reading books and fighting for the poor.” He gave Trent a poke in the side. “Let’s get going, ass-wipe, we don’t want to be late.”
The National Mall stretched for nearly two miles, bracketed on the west by the Lincoln Memorial and on the east by the Capitol and encircled by vast museums and imposing government buildings.
The National Book Festival, an annual event, had grown to over 100,000 attendees. Circus-size tents had been erected on the Mall emblazoned with banners reading Fiction, History, Children’s Literature, Thrillers and Poetry, among others. In these tents writers, illustrators, storytellers and others held large crowds enraptured with their readings and anecdotes.
On Constitution Avenue the March Against Poverty was ramping up, with its destination the Capitol. After that, many of the marchers would join in the book festival, which was free and open to the public.
Stone had carefully planned the exchange point with input from Alex Ford. It was near the Smithsonian Castle on Jefferson Street. With thousands of people around, it would be nearly impossible for a shooter to get off a clean shot even at a distance. In his knapsack Stone carried the one device that would allow him to complete this mission the right way, for once he had Caleb back safely, Stone had no intention of allowing Albert Trent and his fellow spies to escape.
Reuben said, “Up ahead, two o’clock, by the bike rack.”
Stone nodded, and his gaze caught Caleb standing on a small grass plot partially encircled by a waist-high hedge, with a large and elaborate fountain beyond that. It offered some privacy and a buffer from the throngs of people. Behind Caleb were two men with hoods pulled up and wearing dark sunglasses. Stone was sure they were armed, but he also knew that federal snipers were stationed on the roof of the castle, their beads no doubt already drawn on the men. Yet they would only fire if necessary. He also knew that Alex Ford was around helping to coordinate the operation.
Stone eyed Caleb, trying to get his attention, but there were so many people around, it was difficult. Caleb looked panicked, which was normal, but Stone detected something else in his friend’s eyes that he didn’t like: hopelessness.
And that’s when Stone saw the thing around Caleb’s neck.
“My God!” he muttered. “Reuben, do you see it?”
The big man looked stricken. “Those bastards!”
Stone turned to Milton and Annabelle, who were following behind. “Stay back!”
“What?” Annabelle said.
“But, Oliver,” Milton protested.
“Just do it!” Stone snapped.
The two stopped. Annabelle looked particularly stung by Stone’s order, and Milton seemed paralyzed. Reuben, Stone and Trent moved on until they came face-to-face with Caleb and his captors.
Caleb moaned over the sound of the fountain in the background and pointed to what looked like a dog collar around his neck. “Oliver?”
“I know, Caleb, I know.” He pointed to the device and said to the hooded men, “Take that off him. Now!”
Both men shook their heads. One held up a small black box with two buttons sprouting from it. “Only when we’re safely away.”
“You think I’m letting you walk away leaving a bomb locked on my friend’s neck?”
“As soon as we’re away, we’ll deactivate it,” the man said.
“And I’m just supposed to trust you?”
“That’s right.”
“Then you’re not leaving, and if you detonate the bomb, we all die.”
“It’s not a bomb,” the same man said. He held up the black box. “I push the red button, enough toxin to kill an elephant goes right into him. He’ll be dead before I let go of the button. I push the black button, the system is disengaged and you can take the collar off without releasing the poison. Don’t try to take the control from me forcibly. And if a sniper shoots, my reflex will involuntarily push the button.” He let his finger hover over the red button as he smiled at Stone’s obvious dilemma.
“You enjoying this, asshole?” Reuben spat out.
The man kept his gaze on Stone. “We’re assumin
g you’ve got cops everywhere just waiting to take us once your friend here is safe. So excuse us for taking obvious precautions.”
Stone said, “And what’s to prevent you from triggering it once you’re gone? And don’t give me the trust answer again. It’ll make me upset.”
“My orders were not to kill him unless our escape was blocked. If you let us go, he lives.”
“What exact point do you need to get to before you deactivate the poison?”
“Not very far away at all. In three minutes we’ll be gone. But if we wait too long, I push the red button.”
Stone gazed at Caleb, then at the furious Reuben and back at Caleb. “Caleb, listen to me. We have to trust them.”
“Oh, God, Oliver. Please help me.” Caleb didn’t appear willing to trust anyone.
“I will, Caleb, I will.” In desperation Stone said, “How many loaded darts do you have in that damn thing?”
“What?” The man looked startled.
“How many!”
“Two. One on the left and one on the right.”
Stone turned and gave his knapsack to Reuben and whispered. “If we die, don’t let us die in vain.”
Reuben took the knapsack and nodded, his face pale, but his manner rock-steady.
Stone turned back around and held up his left hand. “Let me slide my hand under the collar so the left dart will hit me instead of my friend.”
The man now looked totally flustered. “But then you’ll both die.”
“That’s right. We’ll both die together!”
Caleb stopped shaking and stared directly at Stone. “Oliver, you can’t do that.”
“Caleb, shut up.” Stone looked at the man. “Tell me where to put my hand.”
“I don’t know if this—”
“Tell me!” Stone shouted.
The man pointed to a spot, and Stone squeezed his hand in the narrow space, his skin now resting against Caleb’s.
“Okay,” Stone said. “When will I know it’s been disarmed?”
“When the red light on the side there turns green,” the man said, pointing to a small crimson glass bubble on the collar. “Then you can undo the clasp and it comes right off. But if you try to force it off before, it automatically engages.”
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