“I took his.” She emptied the chamber, then clicked the safety on in a way that seemed habit before stowing the gun out of sight.
“You just took a fed’s gun?”
“He shouldn’t get to point it at people.”
“No arguments here.”
Killam reversed the car, his mind already working half a dozen steps ahead of them. They were behind and he wasn’t sure they’d catch up in time. But he was going to do his damnedest.
He punched the accelerator, pushing the little sedan to go as a truck cleared the entrance.
His tires squealed as they skidded out, swerved to miss another incoming car and nicked the sidewalk before straightening out.
“Jesus,” Ivy muttered. “What the hell happened?”
If only he knew.
IVY HELD ONTO THE door and kept her feet braced on the floorboard.
“What just happened?” she demanded.
Her heart was racing and with the lack of sleep, too much caffeine mixed with adrenaline, she could taste colors.
“I don’t know,” Piers snapped.
She didn’t take that personally. Everyone got a pass during tense situations like these.
He whipped the car into the parking lot of a train station. “We need to change and get on the train, okay?”
“What about the gun? Keep it or leave it?” she asked.
“Keep it on you, but we need to stash it somewhere soon. We don’t want that on us. Chances are it could be leverage.”
He parked the car then pulled out a package of wipes they’d bought earlier. She snagged one and began wiping things down.
They’d discussed this before. It was a matter of when the feds would catch up to them if they maintained this same course of action. The best thing for them to do was make that trail as hard to follow as possible. She did her part on his side of the car, then got out.
Piers was already hauling their bags out. He pretended to drop hers, knelt and pulled the paper tag off the car revealing a beat up, old license plate. She set her plastic bag down to hide pealing the Baby on Board sticker off. It was easy enough. In its place she slapped a bumper sticker they’d picked up at a gas station to hide the marks the old one would have left.
“Ready?” Piers was already turning toward the station.
“Yeah.”
They strode quickly, merging with other people making the early afternoon trip.
She shed her jacket and he donned a hoodie.
Piers had explained these measures last night before he’d fallen asleep. Small things made a person blend in. Changing a bulky jacket, in her case, made her unrecognizable at a glance for someone looking for the bulk.
Soon enough they were on the train and in a new change of clothes.
Ivy didn’t draw an easy breath until they pulled out of the station.
Would there be cops in DC waiting for them? Or had they escaped?
“What just happened?” she asked.
Piers didn’t look at her. He stared straight ahead and spoke in a soft voice. “The cousins shipped three cars, not five. They got here ahead of schedule and were picked up by someone named Nasar. I’m guessing our fed friends were poking around, asking about us. The office manager never really liked me, but today she was different. That would explain why they were there.”
“Shit. I guess they went straight from Al Hofuf to here? Or were they on our tail the whole time?” And what would that mean for Orion?
“No idea.” Piers finally glanced at his phone. “It’s one. We’ll be in DC in half an hour.”
“What do we do? How certain are we about tomorrow?”
“Not, but it’s our best lead. I’d like to look around the National Mall today. Get a feel for what’s going on tomorrow.”
“After the airport people are going to be looking for us.”
“It’s Halloween.” Piers looked at her and smiled. “Everyone wears a mask.”
Ivy chuckled. “You’re serious?”
“Got a better idea?”
She didn’t, and in the hour it took them to reach DC and find a shop selling adult Halloween costumes, nothing better had come to them. A pair of white hockey masks with red paint splattered on them along with some hats and black hoodies completed their blending in attire.
Ivy would have preferred to go with something a little less ominous given their circumstances, but they were limited to what was still in stock.
Their first road bump came when they got off the subway a few blocks from where tomorrow’s festivities were going to be held and found that it was blocked off to pedestrians due to set-up. Which left them nothing to do except check into a hotel and order pizza.
She stepped into the small, dark room Piers had managed to get them. They were limited to options that took cash and didn’t ask names.
The door shut them into darkness and her sense of smell went into overdrive.
The air was stale. Someone had used a lot of bleach in here recently. Despite the look of the place, she caught that fresh cotton smell. And above it all was that spicy, masculine signature that was all Piers.
The lights flipped on. He pressed a hand to her back, urging her away from the door.
It took an unusual amount of strength for her to walk from the door to the bed and sit down.
What the hell were they doing? How were they going to stop anything?
Piers placed his bag on the two person table up against the wall, then peered out of the small window.
“What’s going to happen?” she asked.
He let go of the curtain and turned to examine her. There was no quick answer. No assuring her everything would be fine.
She appreciated that, even if it was what she wanted to hear.
“We’re going to do our best,” he finally said.
“What does that look like? What does it mean?”
He sat on the edge of the bed with her. “We’ll get some food. Rest. I’d like to look at maps and whatever plans are out there. Maybe something will be obvious?”
“Best-case scenario, someone stops the cousins from whatever they’re planning.” She swallowed. “Worst case...”
Piers covered her hand with his. “You don’t have to think about that.”
She lifted her chin and looked at him. “Why? Do you have a plan?”
“Yes.” No hesitation or explanation. Just, Yes.
“And it includes me?”
“Of course. I did promise you a few weeks in a remote corner of the world.”
That sentiment made her insides warm and she smiled. “Did you ever pick which one?”
“I know a guy who inherited a family farm in the east of France.”
She chuckled. “You could have led with that.”
He wiggled his fingers between hers, linking them. “Could I have convinced you to go there instead?”
“Not a chance.”
“You were very good today.”
“Do I get a treat?”
His gaze narrowed. “Smartass.”
She smiled, and deep down she had to admit that Piers was beginning to treat her more like a partner and not just dead weight. It was nice.
No humor lit his eyes, though. His face only grew harder. “When I saw that guy coming up behind the car...”
Ivy leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I’d seen him already.”
“You had?”
“Yes, but there wasn’t anything for me to do that wouldn’t make me a bigger target. So I leaned the seat back. Used the car as a shield. And waited for an opening.”
He blew out a breath.
He’d really been worried.
She arched a brow. “You do know I spent years in combat situations, right?”
“I wasn’t there then. I’m here now.”
But for how long?
Piers squinted at her. “I think another of your lashes is coming off...”
“More?” She got up and went to the vanity.
Sure enough, she
had another glue on lash trying to fall off.
Piers followed her and braced his arms on the doorway. “Okay, hit me with it. What did they make you do? Eyelashes? Really?”
“Eyelash extensions. Everything from your nose to your collarbone had to be waxed. At the same time they waxed everything from my belly button back. Nails. Toenails. A freaking foot peel that cost like two hundred dollars. They were talking about me needing filler in my lips and cheekbones, too.”
Piers stared at her over her shoulder in the mirror with wide eyes. “I’m sorry I asked.”
Ivy chuckled and turned to face him. “Don’t say I’m not dedicated.”
“Dedicated, hm?” His gaze swept down her body then back up. “How dedicated are you to this two weeks, me and you idea?”
“I could be pretty dedicated.”
“Could you now?” He reached out and hooked his fingers in hers.
Ivy took a step, then another as he backed into the room. “What are you doing?”
“I think I need practice before we head off for two weeks of no crisis.” Piers sat on the bed.
She chuckled. “Practice?”
“You know, snuggling.” He kicked off his shoes and stretched out on the bed.
Who would have guessed that under that hard exterior was this softer side?
Not her.
“Snuggling?” Ivy crawled onto the mattress and let him pull her down next to him.
“That’s it,” Piers muttered.
She closed her eyes and hugged him tight while wishing this was all a very bad dream. But she didn’t wake up in France.
18.
Monday. National Mall. Washington, DC.
Killam had worn a lot of disguises over the years. It came with the job. Most weren’t all that impressive. Just something to alter his appearance slightly. None of that came close to strolling around a crowded lawn dressed up as though he were the worst nightmare in Friday the 13th.
At least he and Ivy were armed with guns. Something tangible.
He glanced down at her and couldn’t help but smile.
She’d had a lightweight maroon hoodie in the bag she’d brought with her. With the hood up to hide her blonde hair and the mask, she was invisible. Just another person out taking in the day.
The Mall had only been officially open for an hour, but people had begun gathering much earlier. The carnival was open and lines had formed.
He and Ivy had walked the perimeter there first, but the only vehicles around it belonged to the crew or police.
Killam eyed a lone man, his face mostly covered by paint.
It was going to be impossible to pick out Zak and Miran’s people. Killam hated to admit it, but using Halloween was a good strategic move. And it would likely cost a lot of lives.
Why were they doing it though?
Was this a job? Something they’d been hired to do?
Or was there something else going on here?
Zak and Miran had no love for Americans. They’d said as much on numerous occasions. But they’d never seemed radicalized.
It just didn’t add up.
A warm, small hand took his. “What are you thinking about? I can hear the gears turning.”
“I’m trying to work out, why?”
“Does that matter right now?” She turned and peered over their shoulder toward the Capital building.
“Knowing why would help us know where to look.”
“Okay, how do we find out the answer?”
He sighed. “I don’t know.”
“Talk it out.”
“Zak and Miran aren’t radicals. They aren’t going to put everything on the line for a cause. They’re more interested in funding their lifestyle.” He rolled that idea around for a moment.
“Then what they did was a business decision. It wasn’t personal.”
“Jabir was giving them money.”
“He was funding them. Supplementing, maybe?”
“Maybe,” Killam said slowly. “We know the Saud family has funded terrorism, this is just the first time we have evidence of it happening.”
“No. Remember, those messages came from Yousef.”
He could have groaned. That one detail was enough doubt that no one would call the Sauds on it.
“What do Zak and Miran get out of this?” Ivy asked. “Money?”
“Has to be.”
“They’re probably just the salesmen pitching their product. They probably aren’t even core players.”
“If that’s the case, why take the cars? Why make this personal? If they aren’t in charge, why are they making decisions like this?”
“Because shipping the stuff in under a white, American man’s name probably cut through a lot of red tape.”
Killam nodded. He’d give her that, though he still wanted to know more. To understand it. But so often violence of this scale never made sense.
He slowed his pace.
The National Mall was huge, and there was a whole day’s worth of activities.
Soon the parade would begin.
He wanted to figure this out before that happened. Before they’d have a greater concentration of people to worry about.
“Three cars,” he muttered and turned in a circle.
Despite the urgency of the situation, the closest back-up he could muster was still hours out. He had a feeling they’d be much too late.
Ivy let him go and pivoted just a bit. She was watching their tale without being obvious about it. He shouldn’t be proud of her, but he was. No, she wasn’t an undercover like he was, but she was damn smart. Having her with him, sharing this burden, even just listening to him work things out, made everything easier to bear.
Was it her? Or was this what it was like working with a partner? Should he rethink his stance on that? To what end? Getting stuck with someone he didn’t like? But what if it was Ivy?
His heart did a funny thing in his chest. All at once he felt lighter. A spark of something made his breath catch.
He turned his back on her and shoved the idea of Ivy as his partner out of his mind.
She had a life. Friends. A job. All waiting for her to finish here and get back to it.
Killam wrestled his mind back to the task.
Traffic was cut off from all around the Mall due to the parade. That meant that all three cars were there. They just had to find them.
So far the cars weren’t by the Capital and the area around the carnival was blocked off.
Where would they get maximum damage done? Where would people be gathering?
Everything they had read encouraged people to come to the Mall to view the parade. The bulk of people would be here.
“We need to go back,” he said.
“What?” Ivy blinked up at him.
“We missed something.”
“Okay...”
“The news, the paper, the radio, they’re all telling people to come here. That the parade will go up one side of the Mall and down the other. That means that the cars need to be spaced out evenly. For that to happen, we must have missed them. Are they in the parade?”
“That’s a terrifying thought.”
“Yeah.”
Ivy nodded and turned without further argument.
In the beginning he’d fielded her questions with irritation. Now he understood them better. She just wanted more information. She wasn’t looking to dispute his decisions.
Together they cut across the lawn, choosing to take a closer look at the street along the southern edge.
“Isn’t there like a café or something over here?” She gestured at the trees ahead. “It’s been so long since I was in DC as a tourist.”
Killam knew exactly what she was talking about.
The hair on his arms stood up.
They passed booths and stands selling other kid friendly things. The crowd got thicker the closer they got to the refreshment stand, until he knew in his gut that at least one of the cars was here somewhere.
He an
d Ivy circled around the throng to the curb.
Up and down the street there wasn’t a car to be seen. They were all gone. Even the few that had been there earlier.
“Where is it? Where the hell is it?” Killam turned in a circle.
The crowd parted just enough for the sunlight to glint off a bit of silver and chrome.
“Shit,” he muttered.
The sea of people rushed back together, cutting off the glimpse.
“What?” Ivy asked.
They’d been looking in the wrong spot all along.
He reached blindly for her and found her hand. Together they strode forward. People sidestepped him, probably due to the mask.
And then there it was.
The 2014 LaFerrari.
At least that was what the body was designed to look like. In reality it was a very good copy.
And there it sat behind black nylon roping it off so people didn’t come too close to it.
“Shit,” Ivy whispered.
They’d been searching the curbside.
They’d never thought to look in the pedestrian areas for the cars.
“What are we going to do?” she asked.
Killam dug in his pocket and pulled out his ring of keys. He jangled it at her.
Her eyes widened behind the mask until he couldn’t see her lashes at all. “You still have the...?”
“The valet had my second set of keys, but I never gave them these.” He ducked under the barrier. “Have a look around.”
Ivy nodded and pushed her mask up.
Killam fit the key in the lock and held his breath. If they couldn’t figure out the device, he could always drive off with the car. But what about the other two? Removing one was fine and all, but there were still two death machines out there.
He peered under the driver’s seat, looking for any kind of pressure plate.
The stench of something rotting hit him. He covered his nose and peered around the small space.
“Piers?” Ivy called out. Despite the coolness of her voice, there was a single note that put him on edge.
He circled around the back and found her on her hands and knees with the phone camera aimed up. Reflected back at him was a digital face counting down fifty-three minutes and twenty-nine seconds.
“Get out of here,” he said.
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