She rubbed her arms, then laid down again. She had to rest a little longer to build up enough energy to transform when the time came to escape.
When the clock read 7 a.m., Jenna felt as if she might puke. How was she going to make it to the town house in time to shower, eat something incredibly bland like a bagel, and get back to the White House in time for her regular shift? And even if she did manage that miracle, she wasn’t betting money she’d make it through the day without collapsing. She hadn’t felt this bad since she’d had a virulent case of the flu her senior year in high school.
The sound of a key slipping into the lock made her jump to her feet. She focused all her energy on transforming. Her heart rate accelerated when she didn’t begin to disappear. If it failed her, she was going to get caught. She gave herself a mental slap. Concentrate. She focused hard on her outstretched hands. Gradually, they faded. Then more of her, and more, until she’d been erased from visibility. Literally a second saved her from discovery
An eerie chill swept over Jenna as Patti stuck her head in the closet and stared straight at her. With a shake of her head, Patti returned to the office. The chill racing across Jenna’s skin didn’t go away. She fought it with thoughts of sandy beaches and fresh-baked cookies, but she continued to shiver.
She edged out of the closet and watched as Patti sat down and booted up her computer. Jenna felt like a convicted criminal about to make a jail break.
Though she might hear more of interest, she didn’t stick around for more sleuthing. She slipped out the door, down the hall and past the guards. Thanks to the hour, it only took her a moment to catch the exterior door open and step outside. She nearly fell to the grass to kiss it. Even tinged with exhaust and the beginnings of another humid August day, she’d never smelled fresher air.
She even fancied her headache eased a bit as she made her way back toward her car several blocks away. But as she neared the car and faced the reality of having to find a place to transition in broad daylight, a fresh wave of nausea hit her. She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. When she looked back up, a vehicle parked several spaces behind hers caught her eye. Daniel.
A whiff of coffee drew her attention to a Starbucks across the street. Normally, the scents wafting out every time the door opened would have tempted her. Now, they only served to make her feel worse. Still, she made her way inside and weaved among the patrons to the restroom. She waited until she was the only person in the room, then locked herself in a stall. Finally, she allowed the energy to flow away. She watched as first her fingers, then her forearm, then her upper arm slowly appeared.
Even after she was totally visible, she sat in the stall, not sure she had enough energy left to make herself stand, let along walk out of the building and to her car.
Somewhere she found a reserve of strength to pull herself upright, walk to the sink and splash her face with water. She smoothed her hair, then exited the restroom. The ravenous hunger she usually felt after longer periods of invisibility appeared despite her drained state. After arming herself with a giant cup of extra strong coffee and the plainest bagel Starbucks had to offer, she headed for her car.
Like a red-tailed hawk seeking prey, Daniel spotted her immediately and sped from his parking spot to the curb next to her. He opened the passenger side door. “Get in.”
“What—”
“Just get in.” His command frayed her nerves even more, but she obeyed.
She sank into the passenger seat, and Daniel took off before she’d buckled herself in. He careened through the streets at a speed that made drinking the coffee impossible. “What the hell?”
“I could ask the same thing. How did you manage to get yourself trapped in the White House overnight?”
“How’d you know that?”
“I asked you first. Besides, I didn’t think you were taking a midnight tour of the city.” He sounded angry, as if he would be held accountable for her mistake. Maybe he would. Perhaps his boss was more dangerous than she’d allowed herself to admit.
While trying to keep the coffee from sloshing onto her legs, she recounted the night’s events. The tightness in Daniel’s jaw lessened only slightly as she told him about how she’d spent her time finishing her examination of the files.
“Like I thought. One area to check off.” He almost sounded surprised for some reason. “You need to check out some higher-up offices today.”
“If I manage to check out anything besides the bottom of a toilet bowl.”
Daniel glanced at her. “Are you okay?”
“I feel like something stuck in the tread of my shoe.”
He slowed, but only by a fraction. When they reached her town house, he dropped her off with instructions to take the Metro to work. To avoid suspicion, he planned to move her car to a spot off DuPont Circle. She could ride the Metro there after work.
As she watched him drive away, she very nearly called a cab to the airport. Only the memory of her father’s face behind that recent newspaper stopped her.
CHAPTER SIX
Jenna couldn’t look at her bed if she had any hope of making it back to work in time. She’d like nothing more than to crawl in and sleep for a full twenty-four hours. Instead, she set a land speed record for showers.
Though she’d hoped the shower would help her feel better, she continued to feel worse as the minutes passed. If she were home, she’d call in sick. But she wasn’t home.
With a fresh uniform, hair still damp on the ends and a map of the subway system, she nearly ran out the door. Life-and-death situations didn’t allow for sick days.
She was about to curse Daniel Webster with every blue word she knew for leaving her carless and a good hike from the nearest Metro station when he pulled up in front of her like a taxi summoned by thought. He didn’t have to tell her to get in this time.
“Are you constantly spying on me?”
“Spying is such an ugly word,” he said, sounding mildly offended.
“If the shoe fits.”
He ignored her barb. “How are you feeling?”
“Just peachy.”
“Really? You look like hell.”
“Boy, I bet you get all the girls with lines like that.”
“I reserve my really good stuff for special occasions.”
She would have rolled her eyes, but the way her head hurt, she figured with her luck they’d get stuck.
As they headed for the Metro station, Jenna watched the traffic inching across the Potomac into the District. No way she’d make it in time by car. Still, she wasn’t looking forward to a swaying train ride.
Daniel retreated into silence as they sped up the George Washington Parkway. When he finally parked outside the Metro station, Jenna couldn’t wait to get away from him.
“Wait,” Daniel said.
Jenna left her hand on the door handle but turned toward him with what she hoped was a “Don’t cross me” expression on her face.
“You need to be extra careful today.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t get into any more jams. I fully intend to get more than my eight hours of sleep tonight.”
“This is not a joking matter.”
“Geez, will you lighten up. You’re not the one who feels like crap right now.”
“The president received another letter this morning.”
She’d been about to tell Daniel that if he thought he could do a better job, he was welcome to it, but his revelation stopped her cold. She closed her half-opened mouth, then opened it again to ask, “What did it say?”
“It was attached to a Post clipping about the president’s threat to cut off U.S. aid to corrupt regimes. It said, ‘You need to rethink this if you value your position.’”
“That sounds political. You’re sure it’s not a scare tactic coming from someone in Congress?”
“That’s not how they operate. And there were no congressional staffers at the White House when the note appeared.”
“This morning? He w
as there when I was?”
“So it appears. And that’s not all. The note also said, ‘Your people are getting sloppy.’”
Jenna’s heart rate increased. She’d been in even more danger the night before than she’d realized. “They know about me?”
“Not you specifically. There wasn’t any indication that the letter writer made the connection between you and the mess in Patti’s office.”
“Was it from the same person?”
“We assume so. We can’t compare handwriting because the letters are typed. But it’s on the same White House letterhead, and the person is careful because there are no fingerprints on either letter.”
“It doesn’t seem particularly intelligent to be sending taunting letters when one’s aim is to assassinate the president.”
“You’re a cop. You know there are a lot of crazies out there who enjoy the idea of competing against the cops and winning. It gives them a high.”
“Yes, in situations where they have more freedom of movement and easier access to their targets. But if your goal is to get inside the White House and take out the president, why do you invite more scrutiny?”
“Maybe he wants the president to know he’s being targeted by someone who can get near him, someone who doesn’t like his foreign policy for some reason. Maybe they hope they can scare the president into backing down so they don’t have to take the chance of assassinating him. Whatever his reason, you need to be extra careful. No slip-ups. Don’t do anything that would make you stand out in any way. Blend.”
“Do you think this guy will make the connection between me being the newest staff member and what happened last night?”
Daniel shrugged. “No way to know. Just keep your eyes open.” He nodded toward the stream of commuters making their way into the Metro station. “Now go on before you’re any later than you already are.”
Jenna joined the throng of men in suits and women dressed in skirts and hose with socks and tennis shoes. Though she didn’t look back, she sensed Daniel watching her.
But once on the crowded train, more serious thoughts pressed in on her brain from every side. The need to identify the assassin quickly seemed more urgent than it had only hours before. Whoever it was could pass her every day in the great marble hallways and she wouldn’t know it. She might have the advantage when she was invisible, but she had nothing other than her intuition and intelligence to protect her while she played janitor. If someone inside the White House was daring enough to kill the president within those walls, he’d think nothing of taking her out to get to his goal.
Being a cop made her naturally suspicious of people until she really got to know them, but this morning as the train rocked back and forth and made stomach-lurching stops and starts, she saw an assassin in every face and wondered if she’d ever trust anyone again.
****
Jenna awoke the next morning to sun filtering in through her blinds. Even though the night had seemed to pass in a flash, the hours of rest had done her some good. The headache wasn’t totally gone, but it had faded to a dull shadow of its former self. She was still tired but no more so than the day after a tough shift back home. After a warm shower, her muscles even ached less.
She dressed in her third clean uniform and carried the others downstairs to wash them. The smells of bacon and coffee greeted her when she opened her bedroom door. Had Daniel let himself in? Had she been so exhausted she hadn’t even heard the alarm?
She descended to the bottom of the stairs, catching sight of Daniel’s back in her little kitchen. She stared at the spread laid out on the table. “You cook?”
Daniel looked up from where he was pulling toast from the toaster. “Don’t sound so surprised.”
She wandered over to see the morning’s spread. Bacon, scrambled eggs, toast with strawberry preserves. She lifted the jar of preserves to eye level and turned it. “Homemade? Don’t tell me you can fruit too.”
“Would you believe me if I said yes?”
Jenna shifted her gaze to Daniel. “No.”
He shrugged as if it’d been worth a try. “Actually, my grandmother made those. She lives in the Shenandoah Valley and cans like all the grocery stores are going to disappear tomorrow.”
It was odd, hearing this tidbit about Daniel’s family. The activities they were engaged in seemed so surreal that one could almost believe they didn’t have families or lives outside of their work. The urge to share something of her own family surprised her, but her mother didn’t cook, let alone can fresh fruit. Thoughts of family sobered her.
“You owe me some information.”
Daniel evidently sensed the change in mood because his teasing persona vanished. “Right.” He scooped up the two plates of food and brought them to the table. When he walked back behind the kitchen counter to pour the coffee, his forehead creased as if he were considering what and how much to tell her.
“After your father finished his assignment, he was supposed to make his way to a specific set of coordinates. At the time he was to be extracted, he wasn’t there. The extraction team went back at intervals for a week afterward, each time exposing themselves to additional risk, but he never showed.”
Her mind tried to absorb how casually people at certain levels spoke of assassinations. Assignment. It sounded like homework, not a plan to put a bullet between a man’s eyes. “And?”
“And about a month after that, our agency received an anonymous message that your father had been kidnapped by a terrorist group called X.”
“X?”
“Yes. They’re so secretive that they won’t give themselves a name beyond that, at least not one that we know of.”
“What’s their agenda?”
Daniel returned with the coffee. “They don’t seem to have a religious cause, more just anti-American, anti-West, anti-capitalist.”
“Great,” she said as she sat. “Just what the world needs, another group that thinks we ought to still be living in the Dark Ages.” She took a needed drink of her coffee. “So why did they take my father? Just because he’s American, or were they working for this Katayami?”
“They were never specific. Their few messages over the years have always just been enough to make us want to pull our hair out, never enough to give us a good lead.”
“Do you know where my father is?”
Daniel caught her gaze, and for a moment he looked like a concerned friend rather than someone who’d done the government’s blackmailing. “I’ve said I don’t. I can’t swear those above me haven’t received that information, but they’ve not given it to me.”
“Afraid you might let it spill to me and you’d lose my snooping services?”
“There are precautions on precautions in our line of work.”
They ate a few bites in silence, but though she hadn’t had a decent meal in what seemed like a lifetime, Jenna’s appetite deserted her. “Speaking of groups with mysterious names, when do I get to learn the name of yours?”
“You don’t.”
“That’s rich. I get to risk my life for you, but that’s still not good enough to reveal your identity.”
“There are—”
“I know, precautions.”
They finished their breakfasts without further discussion. Jenna knew no more information about her father or what she’d gotten herself into would be forthcoming until she’d put her neck on the line again.
****
For the next couple of days, Jenna did her best to observe everyone with whom she came into contact without appearing to stare. A too inquisitive janitor would draw unwanted questions and suspicion, things she needed to avoid.
Daniel delivered the laptop, to her surprise. She’d done Web searches on X until her eyes throbbed, all in vain. About the most useful thing the computer had provided for her was some mind-numbing solitaire and her daily e-mail fortune cookie. Unlike the ones she got when she went out to eat Chinese, the relevance of the e-mail fortunes was almost spooky.
�
�Look beyond the eyes to the man inside.”
“Things are not always as they appear.”
“Believe in your talent for it believes in you.”
The amount of activity within the White House increased with the approach of an official state visit from the leader of some country Jenna was fairly sure wasn’t on the world map she owned. It was one of those nations that had a name change with each turnover in leadership, the Democratic Republic of the Middle of Nowhere or something like that.
Despite the pressing need to find the assassin, a task that was admittedly difficult when she had no leads, she found herself pausing sometimes just to watch all the meticulous detail going into the planning. She even glimpsed the first lady discussing place settings and floral arrangements with her staff. The average citizen had no idea the man-hours it took just to welcome a guy to the United States.
She planned to stay late the night of the state dinner, invisible of course, so she could watch the crowd for suspicious activity. No one would expect an assassin to strike inside the White House during such an important event. And from what little she knew about the note writer, it was just the kind of occasion he’d pick.
“Seems a bit excessive, doesn’t it?”
Jenna jumped at the question whispered in her ear. She turned and found herself incredibly close to Kevin, who had a spot of paint on the end of his nose. For some reason, that made her smile.
Out of Sight (Project Athena) Page 7