Capitol Betrayal

by William Bernhardt

  He’d had enough experience to know what this was. A hostage scenario.

  Christina was in there. He was certain of it.

  “Mr. Kincaid?”

  Ben turned and saw a tall, strong-looking middle-aged man with sun-baked skin and a turnip of a nose. He was wearing a padded flak jacket. The strap of a holster on his shoulder told Ben he was armed.

  “Mr. Kincaid, I’m Seamus McKay. I’m with the CIA.”

  “I know,” Ben said, taking his hand. “We’ve met. When I was a senator.”

  “That’s right,” McKay said, arching one eyebrow. “I wasn’t sure you would remember.”

  “The president mentioned you earlier today. Spurred my memory. I’m glad you’re involved. Looks like your people have responded quickly.”

  “They’re trained to do just that. Ever since September eleventh. No choice, really. As soon as I notified my people of the target, they set up this containment operation.”

  And that was enough of the pleasantries and small talk. “Is my wife in there?”

  Seamus’s shoulders heaved. “Yes. I’m afraid she is. How did you know?”

  “An educated hunch. Rybicki mentioned Lincoln twice today. He even quoted from the inscription above the statue of Lincoln. ‘In this temple as in the hearts of the people.’ It’s obvious the monument was weighing on his mind. He probably planned on using this as a backup target all along, in the event he couldn’t get the suitcase out of the country. No doubt he sees some vast symbolic reason for the selection-freeing Americans from the slavery of crude oil, or some such insane rationale.”

  “But why take your wife?”

  “That,” Ben said grimly, “was probably done out of revenge.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. We’ve got Rybicki in custody. Caught him leaving the building. The president called in an arrest order. Unfortunately, he had already triggered the countdown on the bomb. With your wife attached to it.”

  “Can you get her out?”

  “No. There’s a problem.”

  “The nuclear suitcase.”

  Seamus nodded grimly. “It’s set to explode in less than nineteen minutes. She’s handcuffed to it, and to the base of the statue.”

  Ben’s lips parted. No. No!

  “Can’t you get her out of there?”

  “They tried without success. Then they were ordered out, along with everyone else. We have a bomb squad on the way. They haven’t arrived yet.”

  “But can’t you cut her loose in the meantime?”

  “No. Rybicki says the cuffs are made of titanium alloy.”

  Ben’s brow creased. “What does that mean?”

  “It means you’re not going to cut through them with a blowtorch. And you’re not going to pick the lock with a paper clip. And to make matters worse, Rybicki says that if we detach her from the laptop control device, the bomb goes off immediately.”

  “And you believe him?”

  “I’m afraid so. I’ve seen this type of trigger mechanism before.”

  “There must be something we can do.”

  “We’ve been in contact with bomb squads across the country, but so far no one knows how to stop it from detonating. Apparently Rybicki rigged it so the countdown could be stopped by typing in a password-presumably as a safeguard in the event of premature detonation or his failure to escape. But no one knows the password.”

  “And Rybicki isn’t talking.”

  “He’s pretty damn stubborn. I tried some serious interrogation techniques.”

  Ben didn’t ask what they were. He didn’t want to know.

  “But he didn’t talk. And I didn’t have enough time with him.”

  “Can’t you just type some stuff in?”

  “We had some people trying that. They did all the obvious ones. Happily, there’s no penalty for a wrong guess. The countdown just continues. We’ve tried all his children’s names, his wife, his dog, his favorite college professor. So far we haven’t hit the right code word.”

  “There must be something you can do.”

  “Yes, but…” Seamus’s voice trailed off. “Not in nineteen minutes.” He glanced at his watch. “Seventeen now.”

  “You have to try!”

  “We’ve already begun emergency evacuation procedures. Happily, the Mall was cleared this morning. But this bomb has a much wider range. Radiation fallout could affect people for miles around.”

  “You have to stop that bomb from exploding!”

  “Believe me, Mr. Kincaid, I’m as frustrated as you. I’ve been chasing this suitcase all day. The good news is, in the process, I managed to stumble onto Colonel Zuko’s satellite control station and booted him out of our computer system.”

  “You’re the reason the missiles didn’t launch!”

  “Well, I had help. But the bad news is, I never found the suitcase. The operative I’ve been chasing since early morning left it at a predetermined location for Rybicki to pick up.”

  Ben looked at the monument. “I want to go in there.”

  “I can’t allow that. Not even for a little while. It’s too dangerous.”

  “I don’t care. That’s my wife in there. I have the right.”

  “I’m sorry, Ben. No. We have interrogation specialists working on Rybicki. Maybe they’ll be successful.”

  Ben clenched his hands into fists. “Can you at least take me in there? So I can hear what’s going on?”

  “That much I can do. Follow me, please.”

  Seamus winced as he took the first step. He inhaled deeply, then started over again, clutching his right side. “Sorry. It’s been a hell of a day. And I still haven’t had much time with the medics.”

  Ben followed as Seamus led him through the cordon and into a makeshift headquarters at the base of the tall marble steps leading to the memorial. The interrogation area was just a concrete barricade and an impressive array of communications equipment. One agent was talking into a telephone. Two were huddled around what appeared to be a blueprint of the memorial and the surrounding areas. A video monitor showed the scene inside-Christina chained to the base of the statue of Lincoln.

  “Christina,” he said breathlessly.

  “I’m sorry,” Seamus said. “If I could do-”

  “Can I talk to her?”

  An African American woman dressed in a jacket like Seamus’s answered. “I’m sorry. Not at this time. We don’t have a communications device down there.”

  Seamus explained. “This is Special Agent Beldon of the FBI. She’s the tactical commander for this operation.”

  Ben shook her hand. “Good to meet you.”

  “We have someone working on Rybicki. We’re optimistic.”

  Ben pursed his lips. “I’ve heard the man rant. I’m not.”

  “Well, give it a chance.”

  Ben glanced at a nearby blackboard. “I see you’re still employing the same four steps for hostile negotiation. Trust, contain, reconcile, resolve.”

  “We’re treating this like a hostage negotiation-even though technically the hostage is not currently within his control. He knows the password that can save her and everyone else in the area, so it amounts to the same thing. You’ve been involved with prior scenarios?”

  “Once or twice. What does Rybicki want? His plan is finished.”

  “He hasn’t made any demands. I think he just wants the bomb to explode. It’s possible he might change his mind, but…”

  She didn’t have to finish the sentence. It was evident that she very much doubted he would. And Ben very much doubted it, too.

  56

  1:26 P.M.

  Ben and Seamus followed as Agent Beldon led him to the area where they were interrogating Rybicki. His eyes narrowed when he spotted Ben.

  “Kincaid. So nice to see you again.”

  Ben didn’t answer. This wasn’t his show. The interrogator, a tall, thin man with a badge that said Smithson, was talking from prepared notes. “Secretary Rybicki, I want to help you. I will consider any
reasonable requests. And I won’t lie to you.”

  Ben realized Smithson was trying to work his way through those key negotiation steps. But Rybicki wouldn’t even let him get to first base: trust.

  “There’s only one person I want to hear from. Kincaid.”

  Smithson kept trying. “Sir, I know what you’ve been going through.”

  “No, you don’t. How dare you say that when you don’t. You couldn’t possibly!” His voice sounded crazed, bizarre. “You don’t know how desperate it is, how close we all are to the end. You can’t know how frustrating it is to have the answer but no one will listen!”

  “Mr. Rybicki,” Smithson continued, “I want to help. I want to give you any reasonable thing you want or need to make sure no one else gets hurt by that bomb.”

  “Tell Kincaid his wife is going to die!”

  “Sir, I know you’re scared, confused. You don’t know what’s going to happen. You need someone you can trust. You can trust me. Make me your hostage. Let Ms. McCall go.”

  “No deal.”

  “Pointless,” Ben muttered to Seamus under his breath. “This is not going to end up well.”

  Beldon’s fists balled up with frustration. “Can someone please explain to me what this guy’s problem is?”

  “I can,” Ben said.

  “Then would you please tell me what I’m supposed to do?”

  “That’s the problem,” Ben said, eyes widening. “There’s nothing we can do. There’s nothing we can give him he wants. And pardon me for saying so, but your approach is not going to work.”

  “Mr. Kincaid, I understand your frustration. But we have to play this by the book.”

  “I don’t care about your book. I want Christina out of there.”

  “We can’t-”

  “And I want Mr. McKay here to take over the interrogation.”

  “Why? So he can torture the secretary of defense?”

  “I won’t use torture,” Seamus said. “Not that it wouldn’t be fun. But it wouldn’t work with this zealot.”

  Ben didn’t care if he did. He didn’t care about anything except getting Christina out of there.

  “Just tell us as much as you can,” Smithson said to Rybicki. He had already blown step two: contain. Presumably he was trying for some hope of reconciliation, step three.

  “I won’t. Why should I?”

  “Sir, innocent lives-”

  “You have ten minutes left!” Rybicki screeched. “Then everyone will see that I was right!”

  “Mr. Rybicki!”

  Smithson continued to argue with the man, but Ben knew it would do no good. He wasn’t going to change Rybicki’s mind. The secretary of defense was way past reason.

  “I can’t stand to watch this. I’m going for some air,” Ben told Seamus. He gave him his cell phone number. “Call me if anything changes.”

  “I will.”

  Ben walked a moment, made sure no one was looking. Then he quietly took one of the FBI flak jackets and slid it on.

  He walked evenly, not too fast, not too slow, toward the monument. Seamus and the others were still watching the interrogation.

  Ben reached the officers restricting access to the monument. “Change of assignment,” Ben said, mustering as much authority as he could manage. “Beldon says she wants to see you immediately.”

  “Now? Who’ll maintain the cordon?”

  “I will. Follow your orders.” The two men shrugged and started toward the interrogation area.

  Ben skittered up the steps to the monument. The farther he got before he was spotted the better.

  “Kincaid!” This was Seamus, about twenty feet below him, just before he made it to the top of the steps. “Freeze! Do not compromise this operation. We will use force if necessary to stop you.”

  “Then you’ll have to shoot me in the back,” Ben muttered. “I’m going in.”

  “Kincaid! I mean it!”

  “I don’t think you do,” Ben said quietly. “At least I hope not.”

  “This is your last warning!”

  Ben closed his eyes, said a quick, silent prayer, and walked into the memorial.

  He was inside.

  57

  1:29 P.M.

  “Damn!” Seamus swore, holstering his gun. “Why didn’t he listen to me?”

  “Couldn’t you have just wounded him?” Beldon asked.

  “I’m not going to shoot a man for wanting to see his wife before-” He stopped short. “How long can he stay in there and still have time to escape the detonation?”

  “We’ve got emergency transport lined up to get everyone out of range, but the last shuttle will leave when there’s five minutes left on the clock. If he stays longer than that, he’s doomed.”

  “He’ll come out. He’s not stupid.”

  “But his wife is in danger. He’s not thinking rationally. I’ve heard he’s a little off.”

  “Why?” Seamus snarled. “Because he cares about his wife? Because he doesn’t want to trust her fate to your incompetent pussyfooting interrogators?”

  “I don’t think it’s necessary for you to engage in-”

  Seamus whirled on her. “I’m really not interested in what you think. I don’t believe you do it often and you’re not very good at it. I want you to give me another crack at Rybicki. It’s what Kincaid wanted.”

  Beldon pushed up on her tiptoes. “I’m running this operation. Not you. And not Kincaid.”

  “And you’re accomplishing nothing. Let me back in there.”

  “My team has been specially trained-”

  “No, he’s right.” It was Smithson this time, standing behind them. He looked exhausted. “I’m not getting anywhere. And we’ve got so little time left. If he can do something, let him.”

  Seamus grabbed Beldon by the shoulders. “At least let me try! What have you got to lose?”

  Beldon pressed her lips together. Several seconds passed before she said, “All right. Go.”

  Ben passed between the tall Doric columns and entered the monument.

  He checked his watch. Not much time left. Not that it mattered.

  His cell phone rang.

  “Ben? Can you hear me?”

  He recognized Seamus’s voice. “I can.”

  “You have to give them at least five minutes to get you out safely.”

  “Got it.”

  “Do you? Do you understand there’s no point in staying longer? It won’t help your wife.”

  “I understand.”

  “I’m going to work on Rybicki. If I get any password ideas, I’ll contact you.”

  “Please do. I’ll stay on the line.”

  At the other end of the cavernous monument, Ben saw her. Her face was red and streaked. It looked as if she had been hit in the face. There was a dark bruise under her right eye. Of course she never would have let Rybicki chain her here without a fight, even if he had Agent Gioia’s gun.

  Ben ran up and wrapped his arms around his wife.

  “Thank God,” he said, hugging her tightly. “I love you so-”

  She pushed him away with her unchained hand. “What the hell are you doing in here, you chowderhead?”

  “I-I came to be with you.”

  “Have you lost your mind? Did they not explain to you that this thing attached to me is a nuclear bomb?”

  “Actually, I knew before they did.”

  “Do you understand why Rybicki is doing this to me?”

  “Yes. It’s, um, kinda my fault.”

  “It is not.”

  “Well, I screwed up his plan A. So now he’s executing plan B. With you in the middle.”

  “Ben, don’t blame yourself. That man is clearly unbalanced. He’s become so obsessed with Middle Eastern politics he can’t think straight. He’s wants to detonate a bomb just to make his point.”

  “I know,” Ben said quietly.

  “And still you came in here? What did you think you could accomplish?”

  “I… didn’t really k
now. And it didn’t really matter.” He paused. “I wanted to be with you.”

  “Well, fine. You’ve seen me. Now march right back out of here.”

  Ben shook his head.

  “When do you have to leave to get away safely?”

  “They need at least five minutes.”

  “Fine.” She glanced at the countdown readout on the laptop. “You can stay till then. You can sing me a song. Tell me some of your inane elephant jokes. But after that you’re leaving. Do you understand?”

  “I understand what you’re saying.”

  “You are so exasperating!”

  “And still you married me.”

  “You caught me at a weak moment.”

  He smiled. “I love you, Christina.”

  “So you came running in here to not save me?”

  “No. I came running in to be with you.”

  “Ben, it’s pointless!”

  He took her hand. “Till death do us part.”

  58

  1:29 P.M.

  Rybicki stared across at Seamus, his jaw jutting. Now that his plan had been exposed, his nervousness seemed to be replaced by self-righteous defiance. “Can’t you see the beauty of it? No. Because people have always been blind to the realities out there. The evil that lurks outside, ready to cut off our head. You indulge yourself with talk about making peace, while ignoring the factors that are causing war over and over again.”

  “Pal, I’ve spent more time in the Middle East than you’ve spent reading about it.”

  “Then you know we have to do something! We’re at their mercy.”

  “Because we need oil?”

  “Yes, damn it, that’s exactly why. That’s the weakest link in our entire national defense. So what is the president doing about it? Nothing. He’s going to stand around collecting accolades for his nice words while the country is destroyed.”

  “So you decided to take matters into your own hands.”

  “What choice did I have? What choice?” He was waving his hands in the air, looking wild-eyed.

  Seamus spoke slowly, trying to fit everything together. “You wanted the colonel to send his missiles into an American neighborhood. So you gave him the computer codes and kept him informed of everything that was happening here-because a Kuraqi attack on American soil would set the stage for retaliation.”