"I never heard you complaining about it."
Sean laughed again. "Fair enough."
Tommy had another question. "About the car," he said. "Should we ditch it? I mean, those plates are probably on some kind of watch list."
"Not to worry. We can take my spare. I keep it in the garage at the condo."
"Yeah, but it's registered to you. We'll end up having the exact same problem."
Sean's head turned side to side. "Nope. I've got spare plates, too."
Tommy eyed his friend. "Sometimes I wonder if I even know who you are."
Sean's lips stretched to both sides. "I'm your buddy the spy, that's who."
The two packed up their few belongings and walked out the door onto the sidewalk. Main Street was full of busy people driving in both directions to their morning appointments and destinations. The sidewalks were less crowded, dotted with only a few pedestrians here and there, bundled in thick coats and scarves as they walked hurriedly along in the cold.
The two friends made their way over to the car and a moment later drove off, heading to Sean's condo three blocks away.
They never saw the blond Russian sitting in the corner of the coffee shop, listening to their conversation.
As they revved up the car, Yuri stepped outside and casually slipped into his vehicle near the curb. He started the engine and watched them drive away, turning left on the next street up.
Yuri wasn't in a rush. They weren't going far, and he'd be able to find the car again in the small south side area. While the two Americans were in Wyatt's condo, he'd place a homing device on both cars just to make sure they could be tracked no matter which vehicle they chose to use.
He stepped on the gas and merged into traffic, turning left on the same street Wyatt had taken.
Yuri's plan was working perfectly.
Chapter 17
Adriana stepped through the door of her hotel room. None of the lights were on, so the room was blanketed in near total darkness. The curtains covering the windows only let in the slightest glimpse of streetlights below.
She tossed her keys onto the chair at the corner near the bathroom and collapsed on the bed. Her lips flapped as she blew air through them.
It had been a crazy day.
The president had nearly been killed, and in the process so had she.
Then there was the issue in the alley with the dirty cops, the double homicide, and then her narrow escape that ended in another cop being killed, though how that one happened she still wasn't sure. Her best guess was a device implanted in Einhorn's skin released a poison into his body.
But who pressed the button to make that happen?
There were more questions than answers at this point, and she needed some rest. Traveling from Spain to the United States on top of all the other activity had worn her out.
Adriana stared at the ceiling and then closed her eyes. She needed to take a shower, a long hot one. Her eyelids, however, begged her to forgo the shower and just fall asleep right then and there.
The temptation along with the fatigue pulled on her consciousness.
She let out a long sigh and opened her eyes, deciding to get up and take the shower tonight rather than wait until the morning. She'd sleep better if she was cleaned up a bit.
She saw a shadow move across the room.
Fear surged through her. She shot up out of the bed, but it was already too late. Another shadow zipped by in the darkness.
"Who's there?" she asked as she jumped off the mattress.
The only answer she received was a black bag slipping over her head.
She struggled to pull it off, but the hands holding it were too strong.
"What do you want?" she shouted. "Let me go!"
Adriana remembered her training. She'd been in situations like this before going all the way back to when she learned to defend herself as a child. Her martial arts instructor had put her in a scenario much like this one, where she couldn't see anything and had to fight her way out.
She sensed the figure directly behind her and drove her elbow back. The bone dug into the man's abdomen, and he grunted in pain.
She felt someone approaching from her front and, as she felt the footsteps draw close, fired a jab at what she approximated was neck or face level.
Her fist landed on something smooth and hard — the other attacker's jaw. Another hand grabbed her right arm, and she whipped the left one around to strike the next assailant but someone else grabbed the wrist and jerked it behind her.
"Too afraid to fight a woman?" she spat.
"Calm down, Miss Villa," a sinister masculine voice said. "You need to get some rest."
She heard something that sounded like the opening of a can of tennis balls, then everything started spinning. She couldn't see the room, but her equilibrium failed. Her eyelids immediately began dragging across her eyes, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
Adriana started to fall back on the bed. She never felt the hands catch her in the darkness.
"Ah!" she said with a start. She woke up in a dimly lit room on a cot pressed up against the corner.
The concrete walls were painted a redundant gray, and a single fluorescent light stretched across the center of the ceiling. Her head ached, though she didn't feel a bump or bruise. It was more like a hangover from too much wine.
She winced as she rubbed her eyes. Sitting up in the cot, she took inventory of the sparse decor. The makeshift bed was the only furniture in the room. The metal door to her right looked like it was made for a prison, or an asylum. She hoped it wasn't either.
A camera hung from the far corner, pointing right at her position. She looked up at it with a disdainful scowl. "Where am I?" she asked.
The door unlocked and opened.
Four men in black suits, white shirts, black ties, and sunglasses walked in. Two stood by the door. The other two positioned themselves close to the cot, one on either end.
"You the guys who knocked me out and brought me here?" she asked. Her Spanish accent grew stronger when she was angry.
None of them answered.
She swung her legs off the bed, bracing herself with her hands pressed into the mattress. Even though her brain was still in a fog, she was ready to put a beatdown on these guys.
"Don't feel like talking? Fine. Maybe you're ready for a fair fight after all. Which one of you got the elbow to the midsection? I'll let you throw the first punch."
"Please don't hurt any of my men," a familiar voice said from the hallway. "They are some of the most highly trained and skilled fighters in the world, but I'm not sure they're ready for what you can do."
President Dawkins stepped around the corner and into the room. He flashed a warm smile at Adriana.
"Mr. President," she said. Relief washed over her and filled her voice. "You're okay."
He strode across the room and wrapped his arms around her, embracing her in a big hug. He let go and put his hands on her shoulders. "I'm glad to see you're okay, too. When you disappeared, I feared the worst."
"I'm okay," she said. "Head hurts from whatever drug your guys here gave me, but I'll be fine." She twisted her head around, taking in the surroundings. "Where are we?"
"Ah, this is one of the secret bunkers under the White House. We're underground here. Way underground."
She heard what he said, but her face belied her confusion. "I don't understand. Why the secrecy? And why did you bring me here?"
"For your protection, of course."
"Protection?"
He nodded and then looked at the Secret Service man next to him. "Take your team out into the hall and wait. Oh, and Jimmy, send her in."