And then a wave of something else took over, a warm, almost-comforting tide of sleep washing over his brain, diminishing those purple suns, filtering all that bright light, causing his knees to buckle, and then he was going down like a stunned ox, his right hip and elbow hitting the plywood, but no big deal, tuck and roll with the best of ‘em, so nice to rest, so very nice just to sleep a little while. He thought he heard a voice say something about getting his arms.
Karen was starting to get angry. They had been cooped up in this small room for nearly three hours since their apprehension in the parking lot.
The Marines had escorted them up to Opnav Security on the-fourth floor, given them a perfunctory airport-style search for weapons with a magnetic wand, and then deposited them in this office without another word. The room was about fifteen feet square, with a small table and four chairs in the middle. The door to the main operations area of the security office had a translucent glass panel, and they could see people moving around out there but could not hear what they were saying.
The walk through the Pentagon had been embarrassing, as it must have been obvious to anyone passing them in the main hallways that they were under police escort of some kind, even with only four guards. The Marine captain had accompanied them as far as the security office, but then he had disappeared. A policewoman escorted Karen to the bathroom the one time she had asked, but there had been no other contact. At one point, Karen started to ask Sherman how long this would go on, but he had put his fingers to his lips and pointed to the ceiling. She automatically looked up. There was nothing up there but a fluorescent light fixture.
And then she understood. The room was probably bugged. She had nodded and then made herself as comfortable as she could while they waited.
But three hours? She was ready to go bang. on that door and demand something, although she wasn’t sure what. The only actual crime they had committed was to breach the security door by the heliport. Okay, so sue us, or give us a building traffic ticket, or whatever. Carpenter and company had to be behind this somehow, but for the life of her, she could not understand why. And she was worried about Train. She didn’t want to think about that prospect. She looked at her watch for the hundredth time. Sherman gave her a wry smile when he saw her do that. He motioned for her to pull her chair around so that she was sitting next to him. Then he began to print invisible letters on the table with his finger.
“There’s a point to this,” he scrawled.
“What point?”
“Something else is happening. We are being held out of the way.”
She nodded, and then thought about Train going to Cherry Hill. She reminded the admiral of this fact.
“Going to find Jack?” He traced the question, his eyes alarmed.
“Yes.”
“To arrest him?”
“No. To bring him back. Train feels Jack is in danger.”
Sherman got up then and began to pace around the table.
She watched him while he considered the possibilities. Then she saw an idea come over his face. He pointed up at the ceiling and mimed that there was somebody listening hard somewhere, Then he started talking to the ceiling.
“Damn it, I’m getting tired of this,” he announced.
“Don’t these people realize that von Rensel is out there right now? That he’s probably going to shoot Jack as soon as he finds him?” His voice startled her as much as what he had just said. But he was motioning for her to play along.
Quick, what to say? she thought.. “You’re right, Admiral. He’s out of control,” she said.
He was nodding vigorously. “If they’d let us out of here, maybe we could stop that. But they’re probably too dumb to do that. I hope it’s not too late.”
“Von Rensel’s more than just out of control,” Sherman said, looking up again at the ceiling and the presumed microphone. “He’s going to’go public when he’s finished with Jack. Some people in this building are going to be pretty embarrassed if he does. He’s much too close to those Fairfax cops. You know NIS. They’ll just screw it up.”
They went on like this for a few minutes, then subsided into silence.
Twenty minutes later, the door was being unlocked and the Marine captain was back.
“Apologize for the long delay, Admiral, Commander.
We’ve had some trouble verifying your identity. Saturday. and all that.
But you are free to go now, sir. Commander, next time don’t let the admiral here go busting through security doors. Use the regular entrances, okay, ma’am? And you need to get that ID card problem squared away.”
Karen just stared at him, but he maintained an entirely sincere expression in the face of her obvious disbelief. She was half-expecting Sherman to go through a “how dare you” routine, but he was touching her elbow. “Let’s go,” he said urgently.
The admiral was in a hurry. Suddenly so was she. They needed to get down to Aquia. But more than that, they needed to get to a car phone. A single Marine was detailed to escort them back out of the building, since it was illegal for them to be in the Pentagon without ID cards.
Out in the parking lot, Karen called Hiroshi from the Mercedes while Sherman stood by her door.
“Hiroshi, this is Commander Lawrence. Is Train back?”
“Not back yet. No calls.”
“And he’s in my Explorer?”
“Yes, your car.”
She thanked him, hung up, and looked at her watch. A little after four.
There were only about thirty cars left in South Parking. The sun was starting to set behind the Arlington Annex buildings overlooking the national cemetery.
The dark band of an approaching weather front lurked in the west.
“Nothing?” Sherman was asking.
“Not a word. No calls. He should have been back by now.
“He take your car?”
I”Yes.’ I
“Call your car phone. See if he’s there.”
Why didn’t I think of that? she fumed, and punched in the number for the Explorer.
One ring, two rings, a pickup, and then the voice: Hello, Commander.
She almost dropped the phone when she heard his voice again. She mouthed the name Galantz at Sherman, her throat too dry to speak. Sherman reached for the phone.
“What do you want, Galantz?” he shouted into the phone.
Your dripping bloody spine on my kitchen table, the voice said. If you had one.
“Where’s Jack?-” Sherman said, his voice not quite so forceful. Karen felt an icy fist grip her insides. If Galantz was in her car, then where the hell was Train?
Jack’s with me. Want to see young Jack, do you, Aqmiral?
“Let him go, Galantz.”
Let him go? He’s here of his own free will. Although that might change, of course.
“Let him go, Galantz. You’ve done enough damage.”
Nowhere near enough damage. But I will. You want Jack?
You come to where von Rensel went. Tonight. Come alone.
No helper bees. Let’s say about nine. That suit your busy calendar? We can finish this tonight. Just you and me. But remember, come alone. Or we just keep playing.
Sherman swallowed as the phone hissed at him. He handed the phone back through her window.
“He’s offering to trade Jack for me, from the sounds of it. Wants me to come to wherever von Rensel was going this afternoon. Says we can finish this tonight.”
“Damn!” she exclaimed. “We’ve got to tell Mcnair. We need-“
“No. I have to go alone.”
“That’s crazy, Admiral. I’m sorry, but you’re no match for this guy.”
“Don’t you see, Karen, this is never going to end until I face him? And Jack.” Sherman looked away for a moment, and she suddenly had the impression that he-no longer cared what happened to himself. “Did he say anything more about Train?” she asked.