Finally. He sat up and viewed it again. The man working on the door to Simpson’s office. He zoomed in on the man’s face. Penetrating disguises was something Gray had been long trained in. In the cheekbone was that a touch of Solomon? The chin, the eyes, that of Lesya? Contrary to what he’d told the president, he knew the woman well.
He made numerous calls, and the story came into focus quickly. No one from Simpson’s office had called for a government repairman for the door. Simpson’s receptionist, though, reported that that’s what the man had said-that he’d been told to come. Yet he hadn’t gone in the office in the footage Gray had, and a review of the other surveillance discs turned up no such penetration. A bomb-sniffing dog was brought in but found nothing at which to bark. No one bothered to check for bugs, because a bug couldn’t kill a man.
The next step was to take the picture of the door repairman, pare it down to its essentials and run it through every database the government had. They were doing the same with the video feed from the airport and the descriptions that had been received from the nursing home. Even though the computer age had infinitely speeded this process up, it would still take a little time, something Gray did not have an abundance of. Allowing Lesya to be taken by the authorities was not an option. She had far too much she could tell. It was certain that she had passed this knowledge on to her son. And if Carr was with them, none of them could be allowed to live. It would be cataclysmic for the country, for the world. And for Carter Gray.
CHAPTER 78
BAGGER ORDERED HIS MAN to take a route through the city instead of getting on the Beltway to Maryland. They stopped once and switched out the license plate on the SUV in case the FBI had it. Then they drove on, blending in with dozens of other similar vehicles on the road.
Bagger sat back with a contented look as he clicked a button on the detonator, disarming it.
Paddy sat very still in his seat, his gaze on Bagger. Annabelle kept her eyes forward. Like Paddy, Alex was watching Bagger, or more precisely, the man’s thumb.
Annabelle said, “A bomb, Jerry? And it doesn’t seem your style to run like this.”
He smiled. “You taught me that lesson. Unpredictable. Sometimes you learn more from getting your ass kicked than you do from winning. You came right at me with the long con instead of targeting the casino. So I gave you some of your con stuff right back at you. Jerry Bagger never backs down, always stays and fights. Well, not this time, baby. And how sweet it feels.”
“Glad I could be such an example for you,” she said dryly.
“So what’s the plan?” Alex said. “Dump us in the woods on the way to the plane?”
“What the hell does it matter to you? You’ll be dead.”
“But once you get rid of us, you’ve got no more hostages. You think they’re going to let you just fly away?”
“They got no idea I have my jet here or where it is. I’ll be outta the feds’ jurisdiction in a couple of hours.”
“We have extradition with just about everybody.”
“I know the gaps there, trust me.”
“And the Pompeii goes down the tubes.”
Bagger turned around to grin at him. “You think a guy like me doesn’t have plenty stashed away somewhere?”
“I’m sure you do. But you’re still not going to get away.”
“Yeah, right. Who says?”
“I do.”
“You’re in a real good position for that.” Bagger glanced at Annabelle and tapped his temple. “You really should’ve gotten some class-A talent, Annabelle. I mean, first Tony Wallace and now this whack job.”
“Would you like to know why you’re not going to get away, Jerry?” Alex said.
“Yeah, tell me, I’m just dying to know.”
Alex looked out the window. They were crossing over the Potomac. “Because the FBI knows exactly where you’re going.”
“Really? How? They telepathic now?”
Alex and Paddy exchanged a glance and the Irishman’s body tensed.
Alex undid a few buttons on his shirt and opened it. Underneath was revealed a wire. “You ever think about searching your hostages for bugs, moron?”
“Shit!” Bagger screamed, right as Alex shot forward and slammed the casino boss into the driver, in turn whipping the man’s head into the door glass. Paddy lunged forward and wrenched the detonator from Bagger’s hand. The driver fell limp across the wheel, his foot pushing forward on the gas. The SUV careened out of control and flew across a lane of oncoming traffic.
In the same motion, Alex kicked the passenger door open, grabbed Annabelle and jumped. Annabelle reached out for her father’s hand and clutched it. A second later she was falling out of the truck as her father, with a strength that had stunned his daughter, pulled his hand free.
The last thing Annabelle saw before hitting the street was her father with the detonator in hand looking at her.
The next instant she and Alex hit the pavement, with her landing on top of him. A second later the SUV slammed into the side of the concrete bridge, broke through and went airborne.
Alex and Annabelle jerked up as the explosion rocked the air. The SUV was blown apart as it sailed toward the river below.
Alex covered Annabelle with his body as parts of the truck rained down around them. Thirty seconds later they rose, bruised and bleeding, on shaky legs, staggered to the side of the damaged bridge and gazed over. What was left of the SUV and the men inside was already disappearing into the Potomac.
As the last part of the vehicle slid beneath the water, Annabelle turned and walked slowly down the road. She seemed shell-shocked.
People stopped their cars on the bridge and raced to the side to gawk. Others rushed at Alex and Annabelle.
One man said, “Are you hurt, mister?”
Another, an old gent, exclaimed, “What the hell happened, lady?”
Alex flashed his badge at these folks. “Secret Service. Get back in your cars and drive on. Now!” Then he hustled forward, put a protective arm around Annabelle, flashed his badge at another group of onlookers to back them off and the pair walked quickly off into the night.
CHAPTER 79
THE THREE WERE IN A CELLAR of a building that hadn’t been occupied in over a decade. It was a rat-infested, malodorous place, but right now it was the only location where they felt safe. The light was from a battery-powered lantern, the only chairs mounds of junk. It was the place of last resort for Oliver Stone. He only came here when he had nowhere left to go.
Stone leaned against a dank brick wall and stared at Lesya, who sat on a pile of old carpet, obviously lost in thought. Finn hovered by the door, every sense on alert. Stone turned his gaze to the younger man. “You killed Cincetti, Bingham and Cole, and you tried to kill Carter Gray by blowing up his house with an incendiary bullet after filling the place with gas. You climbed up the cliffs to get to his house and then jumped off the cliffs to make your getaway.”
“Don’t answer him,” Lesya said sharply, shooting Stone a suspicious glance. “I agreed to work with this man to keep us alive, but that doesn’t mean we have to trust him.”
“I wasn’t expecting an answer,” Stone said. “I was just expressing my admiration. It’s not easy to take out killers like that.”
“So do you think you deserve to die then?” Lesya said sharply. “You were a killer too.”
“Frankly, I’ve been dead for a long time.”
“They murdered your wife, didn’t they?” Finn said.
“Because I wanted to get out. And they almost killed me. To make matters even worse, Roger Simpson adopted my baby daughter. She never knew I was her father.”
“Simpson!” Lesya spat on the floor. “That is what I think of Roger Simpson.”