“I’m not afraid of needles. I live with needles every day. But I don’t want to be put to sleep. I can’t manage my blood sugars. Do you really have to do that? I promise not to make any noise. I’ll lie down in the back of the van and be quiet. You’ll already have me locked up with the handcuffs. Isn’t that good enough? Please!”
He looked at her through the mask’s eyeholes for a long time. His posture softened.
“Not one sound. Not one word unless I tell you to speak. You get out of line one time and you’ll be out like a light. Deal?”
“Yes. Deal.”
“Okay. I’m going to undo the cuff and carry you upstairs and out to the van. Ready?”
“I don’t need you to carry me.”
“Footprints. Remember?”
“Oh, right. Okay.”
He got her into the van and cuffed her to the side railing. “Remember, not a peep.”
The cabin was completely isolated. No one would hear if she screamed, but if she did the deal was off. He’d put her out in a flash.
He went back to the basement, and wiped down the walls and floor where she had been cuffed. Did she think I wouldn’t expect her to contaminate everything within her reach while I was upstairs?
He returned to the van. She had kept their agreement. Not a sound. He wouldn’t sedate her. He stuck to his agreements too. Stuck. Apt choice of words.
* * *
He locked up the cabin for the last time and walked about one hundred meters past the van, beyond where she’d be able to hear him speaking softly into his cell phone, but where he could easily hear her if she started making any noise. Still not a sound.
He called Lancer and arranged the time and location for the drop. He chose a time that would allow him to get there two hours ahead of time and make sure no one was watching. “Like we discussed yesterday, you need to be right on time. I’ll be watching. Understood?”
“Understood.”
He hung up, took one last look at the cabin, walked back to the van, retracing his steps and used some branches to rub out his footprints, climbed in, and drove off. This really was supposed to have been a two-man job. But he’d manage.
He looked at his watch. The drop was set for 11 o’clock. He would be there in about thirty minutes, right around nine.
CHAPTER 105
Sunday, May 11, 8:35 am
REYES ANSWERED HIS CELL. “Tell me something good.”
“We got him.”
He fought back a smile. “Clarify.”
“Satellite picked up and is tracking the van. We can close in any time you say.”
“How far away are you?”
“We have one resource within two minutes of the target. Three tops. It would be preferable if we could bring a few more resources to the party, improve our odds, but their coordinates are further away. We’ve been canvassing a much bigger grid than where he now turns out to be. It would take a good fifteen minutes for additional resources to close and engage.”
“Traffic?”
“Virtually none.”
“Can you tell where he’s headed?”
“On the highway headed toward D.C.”
“Where the traffic will soon become much heavier?”
“Correct.”
“We took Osama bin Laden and his security out with not many more assets.”
“Not quite. And they never saw it coming. This guy’s going to see us approaching.”
Reyes reflected for a moment. “Do it! Take him out. Now! Before he gets any closer to D.C., before there are witnesses.”
“Repeat.”
“You heard me. This is authorized at the highest level. This man is an extreme national threat. Very dangerous. Eliminate and sanitize. Now! Confirm when accomplished.”
“Understood.”
CHAPTER 106
Sunday, May 11, 8:38 am
THOMAS SAW the black SUV with special plates and flashing lights closing on him. Fast. So much for any chance that what Reyes and POTUS were interested in was my best welfare. He only saw one vehicle. They must have thought that was all they needed to take him out. And would also involve fewer witnesses.
He was ready. So were the special wheels and original run flat tires he had installed on the van for just these occasions. They would be disappointed if they tried to shoot out the tires.
If they came after him, he had expected it would be here. The narrow artery was one lane in each direction. Cut through a steep mountain pass, elevations climbing to his immediate right, a several hundred foot embankment to his left, across the one oncoming lane.
He guessed they weren’t planning on taking any prisoners. Didn’t matter. He had no intention of stopping, or being taken alive. He would slow down a bit. At the right moment. They’d have to overtake and pass him on his left. Exactly where he’d mapped it out.
He floored the gas pedal, as if he were going to try to outrun them. The van lurched forward. They sped up in kind. He eased his foot back off the accelerator and they rammed into the rear end of his van. They motioned him to pull over and stop. Yeah. Right.
He accelerated once again, but not full out. This time they rammed the back of the van more violently. The girl began screaming from behind him. Loud.
“Hey, brat, pipe down. Remember our deal. I need to concentrate. You’re not helping.”
He pulled away from them in a burst. They gave chase. Now! Before they had a chance to ram him again, he eased his foot completely off the pedal. As if he were tossing in the towel. They took the bait and attempted to pass him on the left. As they pulled alongside him, they flashed their guns and signaled him to pull over and stop.
He glanced at the girl in his rearview mirror. She was huddled in place thanks to the handcuff holding her to the rail. Not as good as a seatbelt. But close. It would have to do. She couldn’t see what was happening outside, but the look on her face was one of sheer terror.
“Hold on, brat, it’s gonna get a tad rough. Here we go.”
“No!”
He saw the men in the SUV still waving him over to the side of the road, what little side there was. He slowed a little more, stared back at them, took a deep breath, and jammed his steering wheel hard left, simultaneously pumping his foot down on the gas pedal. Without warning, the van collided with the SUV. He knew the other vehicle seriously outweighed his, but the element of surprise gave him a brief advantage. He saw the frozen looks of astonishment on their faces and the muzzles of their blazing guns as the SUV veered to the left, sailing right out over the embankment.
Before the van could follow, Thomas gently coaxed the steering wheel back to the right, managing precariously to keep the van on the highway. He was pretty sure there’d be no survivors in the SUV to call in what had happened, to ask for backup, but he quickly stopped and ran across the road to make sure. He was just in time to see the SUV explode into flames at the bottom of the ravine. There would definitely be no survivors.
Except for the shots they had managed to get off before the SUV went over the precipice, his plan had been flawless. Almost exactly as he had designed it. His high-tech tires were somewhat torn up, but still holding air. They had been well worth the investment. In contrast, he hadn’t held up quite as well; one of those shots had caught him in his left shoulder.
He didn’t know how badly he was hurt or how much time he had. Others would soon be on the way when they couldn’t raise their departed comrades. He opened the rear of the van to check on the girl.
She stared straight into his eyes. “You’re not wearing your mask. And you’re full of blood.”
“I’ll survive. And now you know how good looking I really am. We gotta move. Fast. It’s gonna be bumpy again. Can’t help it.”
Slamming the back door, he jumped in front and took off. At full throttle. He kept it that way until he reached the outskirts of D.C. He didn’t see anyone following him, but he now had to slow down. There was more traffic. He couldn’t afford to draw attention, get pulled over
by any Highway Patrol.
He made it to the drop slightly ahead of his timetable. The bleeding from his shoulder had slowed to a trickle, but he was feeling weaker. He circled the area several times. He didn’t see anyone. He parked, then came around to the rear of the van and opened the door.
She just looked at him. “You really don’t look so good,” she said.
He ignored the comment. “Odd how things turn out, brat. Six days ago I knew you’d be dead by now. I didn’t expect to care. Just part of the job. Sorry. Now, I hate for it to have to end this way.”
Before she could protest, he plunged the syringe into her handcuffed arm. For the last time.
CHAPTER 107
Sunday, May 11, 8:43 am
REYES WAS FRANTIC. He called the number back several times. No answer. He called a backup, providing a sanitized version of what little he knew.
“Not the first time, sir. Won’t be the last. We’ll take care of it. Sit tight.”
Right. Sit tight. What else can I do? Thomas had been his worst nightmare for almost five years.
Or was it POTUS?
* * *
While he’d managed to fully stop the bleeding with some compression bandages he had in the van, Thomas knew he could still lose consciousness at any moment. He had his false CIA identification on him. He might be able to cry national security and talk his way past his shoulder wound. But certainly not the girl’s body.
He stuffed it into the wheeled golf travel bag he’d purchased after his former associate had become unavailable. Big enough to hold two sets of golf bags, it also nicely accommodated one full sized human. Thank God for the wheels. He couldn’t have done what he had to do without them.
He looked around. He still didn’t see any onlookers. With considerable effort, he rolled the travel bag toward the bushes. It was close to a hundred yards off. Every ten yards or so, he had to stop, catch his breath. He was hyperventilating. Probably going into shock. He finally reached the bushes. Dropping to his knees, he clawed at the ground with his hands until he was at least able to fashion a shallow grave. He pushed the bag into the depression and covered it with nearby loose brush. It wasn’t perfect, but would have to do.
He had originally planned to remain in sight. To make sure no one else discovered the mound before Lance arrived. The mound would hopefully suffice until then.
The physical exertion had caused his shoulder to start bleeding again. He didn’t want to pass out and be found next to the girl’s body. Not by Lance. Not by anyone else. Worse, if he didn’t get to where he could remove the bullet and clean and close the wound, he might bleed out. Lose consciousness for good.
He crawled out of the bushes, smudged out his tracks behind him, and stumbled back to the van. He turned and glanced one last moment at the quiet mound. Before he drove off.
CHAPTER 108
Sunday, May 11, 11:00 am
ALMOST TWO HOURS LATER, the man almost tripped over the undisturbed mound. He moved the brush aside, unsure what to expect. He saw the large bag and unzipped it. He couldn’t believe his eyes. He opened the large-sized envelope that accompanied the body and spilled out its contents. He read the note. And grabbed the syringe and injected the girl’s shoulder.
Nothing. He waited. She didn’t move. Had he fucked this up? Ten minutes went by. Then twenty. Nothing. He sat there. Not sure what more to do. Maybe call 911? Finally, a slight gasp. Then a moan. She tried to sit up.
“Take it easy. Give it some time.”
She looked at him and started to weep. Uncontrollably.
“Cassie, you’re okay. It’s all over. You’re safe now. I’ve got you. I won’t let you go.”
He held her body close, as tightly as he dared. He softly stroked the back of her neck, tried to reassure her. He picked her up in his arms and carried her to his car. He wanted to bring the travel bag too, but had to leave it back there under the bushes. He had covered it back up. Not like we’re gonna find any fingerprints on it. Other than mine.
He fastened her seatbelt. Her sobbing gradually lessened. She looked at him. As if confused; afraid to get her hopes up.
He smiled at her gently. “I need to make a call. To let your family know I have you.”
He speed-dialed as they drove off. “I’ve got her.”
“Yes! Well done, Detective,” Brooks said. “How is she?”
“A bit shaky and weak, as you would expect. But she seems okay. At least outwardly. You’ll call her family? We’ll be there in about forty minutes. Please also call Leah for me. And make sure she tells Madison.”
“No one else,” Brooks said. “Not yet. We have some damage control to tend to first. Maybe a few offensive maneuvers as well. Nice job, Detective.”
“I may have done some of the heavy lifting—literally—but this was you all the way, Judge.”
* * *
Lotello thought he overheard Brooks mutter something like “Pshaw” just before the call ended. ‘Pshaw?’ Who talks like that?
CHAPTER 109
Sunday, May 11, 12:15 pm
THE FRONT DOOR of the Webber home flew open as Lotello pulled into the driveway. He’d hardly stopped before Cassie leaped from the car and into her mom’s arms. He reached behind him and grabbed her backpack, climbed out of his car, and, after her mom begrudgingly released her, watched the girl hug each member of her family, first her dad, then her grandfather, and, finally, her grandmother. Even Whitney, the family pup, was in a frenzy. Cassie bent down and swooped him up. “I missed you too, Whit,” she said as she cuddled him in her arms and relished every lick of her face.
It finally occurred to someone that perhaps they should move the party inside before they became a neighborhood spectacle. Webber retrieved the backpack from Lotello. “Thank you so much for bringing Cassie back to us. Please come inside.”
“You go ahead. My wife Leah called to say she and Madison were on the way, but Leah wanted to give you guys a few minutes first. I’ll wait out here until they arrive. Don’t worry about me. Go ahead and enjoy some private reunion time with your daughter.”
* * *
Lotello glanced around and spotted what he was looking for, and parked across the street, two doors down. As he cautiously approached the dark, non-descript vehicle, the driver lowered the window. He remained inside the car.
“Good afternoon,” the man said to Lotello.
“That it is. Nice to see you.”
“You know, you’re supposed to be turning the girl over to me. It’s so hard to get good help these days.”
They shared a laugh, but then quickly dispensed with the levity.
“I have a handful of associates parked throughout the neighborhood,” Lance said. “No one followed you. Kidnappers haven’t called me. Too soon for them to wonder why I haven’t yet acknowledged receipt of the ‘asset.’ My men and I will stick around until we’re sure it’s safe. At least for a couple of days. We won’t let any strangers near the house.”
“Thanks.”
“Not necessary. I have just as much reason as the family to avoid any possible unwanted or unnecessary attention. Including my presence here right now.”
The car window closed.
As Lotello turned back toward the Webber home, Leah and Madison pulled up and parked at the sidewalk. Madison jumped out of the car and dashed to him. “Thanks for this, Dad. You have to fill me in—whatever you can—but that can come later.” Without waiting for him to reply, she raced off and disappeared into the house.
Leah came up and gave him a quiet kiss. “How is she?”
“Hard to know. You’d think she was just returning from a week at summer camp. Unbelievable. No doubt she’s running on adrenaline and the letdown will come. But for now, she’s great. We’ll have to see what tomorrow brings.”
They walked into the house. Lotello and Leah joined the family as they watched the emotional hug fest between the two girls, tears flooding both of their faces in orchestrated unison. Several times, they let go of on
e another, only to grab on again a moment later. Finally, obviously wanting some space of their own, the two of them unobtrusively made their way down the hallway towards Cassie’s room.
Lotello heard Cassie say to Madison, “I’m okay. I think. So much to tell you.”
“I want to hear everything,” Madison responded.
Lotello whispered something to Leah and quietly took his leave. If anyone noticed, they didn’t comment. Brooks was waiting. They had things to discuss.
CHAPTER 110
Sunday, May 11, 1:00 pm
THOMAS WAS HOLED up in the Georgetown safe house. He knew they’d be checking all of the hotels for him. He’d arranged this contingency several months ago, and was confident they’d never find the place.
He’d cleaned the wound. Examining it in the mirror, it wasn’t as bad as he first thought. Stitching it up was another matter. Even with painkillers, that had not been any fun. But he got through it.
Tomorrow was going to be a big day. Would Hirschfeld come through—for all of them? If not, would Thomas retrieve the girl? He was no longer as sure about that as he had been. He wanted to watch the results from the Courtroom, but that was now out of the question. Far too dangerous. And he was still too wobbly. Television would have to do, even if there would be no intimacy. If all went well, he would be able to leave town right after the announcement of the decision. No longer via Dulles—that was for sure—but he had arranged contingencies for that too.
He picked up his cell and called the number. “Lancer Solutions.”
“A.P. here. Status?”
“Asset received. In working order.”
“Tomorrow’s a big day.”
“It is.”
Thomas ended the call. There was nothing more for them to discuss. Now.
CHAPTER 111
Sunday, May 11, 2:00 pm
BROOKS AND LOTELLO walked to the nearby park and sat at one of the few empty tables. It was a nice day; lots of people were enjoying themselves. Barbeques. Chess matches. Horseshoes. Shuffleboard. Even a pickup basketball game.
Brooks-Lotello Collection Page 29