Tom swore. “You’re saying Werner Heisenberg wasn’t only responsible for the development of the first German nuclear weapon? He was also responsible for the nukes we dropped on Japan at the end of World War II?”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” Elise’s gaze swept the sky, following a procession of military helicopters as they flew overhead across Chesapeake Bay. She swallowed hard. “The real question is, if that’s the case, then who would go to such lengths to reveal the truth about our history?”
“Perhaps they’re not trying to reveal the truth at all,” Tom said. “We can’t rule out the possibility that someone’s going to great lengths to make sure that the past remains buried.”
“Or simply to make a buck on the deal?”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Congressman Peter Grzonkowski stopped to catch his breath.
At the age of sixty-one he was the youngest of the three senators in the group, but right now he felt every one of those years. His heart pounded in his ears and every muscle in his body burned with exhaustion. He and the two other senators had been constantly moved since the attack on the capital had taken place. He felt like his little group was being driven like a herd of cattle as they raced deeper and deeper into the tunnel.
“Congress people, if you will keep following me, please?” The man in the dark suit from the security detail helped one of the older senators to stand. “We’re almost there.”
The three senators followed the CIA agent through the tunnel. Peter was at the lead, followed by Congresswoman Bledes, and Congressman Carmichael. A second black-suited agent followed behind. Pipes and wiring led them forward and down a long, curving tunnel that formed the labyrinth of secret passages and tunnels beneath the Capitol. Their journey had started under the Library of Congress, but the three senators no longer had any idea where they were.
The lead CIA agent walked quickly. The senators had to trot in their efforts to keep up.
After several long minutes, the lead agent led them to a set of steel stairs that rose into darkness.
“Where are we?” asked Congresswoman Bledes.
She received no response.
The five of them climbed the stairs, their footsteps echoing eerily back to them.
Finally, they reached the top, a steel door with a pair of bolts holding it shut and a small monitor mounted near the door. The agent checked the camera, then his earpiece. “It’s clear.”
The bolts snapped with ominous finality as they slid back in to the door, sounding like muffled gunshots.
The door opened. All three members of Congress put up an arm to block the bright sunlight shining on their faces.
The first agent pulled his dark sunglasses down and climbed out. “Wait here while I secure the area.”
Peter watched the agent disappear.
Congresswoman Bledes turned to the remaining agent. “Where are you taking us?”
This time she received a response. “We’re taking a short walk to the next set of tunnels, Congresswoman Bledes, where you will be met by other agents and escorted across the Beltway to safety.”
“Thank God,” she said. “And do we know who’s responsible for this attack?”
“Not yet. But right now, every agency in America from the CIA through to every level of the military is working on it. No one can hide from that sort of concerted effort for very long.”
Congressman Grzonkowski said, “We were informed there was a nuclear threat to the capital.”
“Yes,” came the agent’s monosyllabic reply.
“How the hell did someone smuggle a nuclear weapon into D.C.?”
“I don’t know, Congressman.” The agent stopped walking at the base of a ladder. “That’s not my concern right now. My job is to get the three of you to safety, and that’s what I intend to do.”
“It shouldn’t take long,” the agent said, a comforting but vague comment. The three members of Congress visibly relaxed.
At the bottom of the steps, an agent, receiving information from the agent up ahead, said, “Understood. I’ll tell him.” He then turned and pointed at Congressman Grzonkowski. “You go first.”
“No. Call me old fashioned, but I’d feel better if we got Congresswoman Bledes out of harm’s way first.”
The agent nodded. “That suits me fine. I’ve been instructed to protect all three of you.”
Congresswoman Bledes smiled. “Congressman Grzonkowski, flattered by your chivalry though I am, we all know I’m nearly twenty years your senior and I have no more right than you or anyone else to survive. You go first. Besides, you will be quicker out across the open than I could hope to be.”
Grzonkowski shook his head. “Not an offer, I insist. I wouldn’t feel right. You go first. I’d like to see the five of us come out of this alive.”
“Okay,” Bledes conceded.
Congressman Peter Grzonkowski watched her climb the last couple steps and out into the opening above.
He followed a few seconds later until all five of them were out in the daylight and onto a residential street packed with cars and with people talking on their cell phones, pacing back and forth, arguing both softly and loudly. Children played basketball in the gaps between cars. Calm, quiet. Normal.
The members of Congress remained in a cluster. The two CIA agents seemed to melt into the pedestrians before and behind the senators, unseen but still present. Trees arched overhead. Townhouses lined both sides of the street.
A series of shots rang out.
Congresswoman Bledes gasped and fell back against her two male peers.
“She’s been shot!” Peter shouted, as he held her up.
The crowd in the street scattered.
Ducking down, Peter asked, “Where did it come from?”
No one responded to him — or if they did, he couldn’t hear it.
This time, everyone seemed to pick out the sound of the shot. A short cracking sound. Something you’d hardly notice, it was happening so far away.
This time, Peter dropped to the ground. He was there before he knew it. He didn’t intend to fall. He’d been bending over Ms. Bledes when pain surged through him like an electric shock. He had been hit in the back.
Another distant crack.
The third Congressman fell.
The agents stood over the three Congresspersons calling for help in their earpieces.
Instinctively, Peter rolled over. The pain in his back stung, but it didn’t feel like it was going to kill him. He met Carmichael’s eye. The man nodded, like he would be okay, too. It was then he felt liquid on the grass beside him. Still lying on the ground, he ran his hand across his back and held it out in front of his eyes. His hand was covered in a wet, sticky, pink liquid.
“Paint?” he said, with incredulity. “Someone shot us with paint guns!”
Next to him, he heard one of the agents hurriedly speak into an earpiece. “The assets have been negated.”
A pause.
“No, sir. Not dead. They used paint.”
The three Congresspersons’ sober, professional outfits were all brightly decorated pink.
“We’ll have to try to move out some other way,” the agent said. Then, “All right. We’re returning now.”
Peter shuffled over to help Congresswoman Bledes up, but she didn’t move.
He rolled her on her side. Blood flowed freely from her back. While he and Congressman Carmichael had been targeted with paintballs, her wounds were very real.
The agent came over to him and said, “We’ve gotta go! What’s taking Congresswoman Bledes so long?”
Peter sighed heavily. “She’s dead.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Ms. Zyla Needham walked through the locked archive. It was turning out to be a very long day. Ironically, the terrorist who had caused the city to be on lockdown was turning out to be the least of her worries. Several of her assistants had called in “sick,” a.k.a., unable to make it into the city via their usual commute.