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She fired and the suppressed round slammed into Decker’s face. He dropped where he stood, dead before he hit the dirt.

The woman walked off with her dog.

CHAPTER

66

ROBIE STOOD ON THE CROWDED Metro train holding on to an overhead handrail. He wore sunglasses, a ball cap pulled low over his forehead, and a hoodie for extra concealment.

The train pulled into the next station and stopped. Robie didn’t react when the woman boarded. He kept his gaze partially downcast, but his peripheral vision was firmly on her.

For her part, Nicole Vance didn’t react when she saw Robie. The only reason she recognized him was because he had told her what he would be wearing, which train car he would be on, and where he would be standing in that car.

She took her time working her way over to him. Most people around them were reading e-books, surfing on their electronic devices, listening to music through earbuds, or simply dozing in their seats.

She stopped next to him and grabbed a handrail. In a low voice she said, “How are you?”

“A little stressed.”

“I can understand that. The stuff that happened on that train?”

He nodded.

“How did you get away?” she whispered.

“Jumped.”

She flinched. “Alone?”

He shook his head.

“Who?”

He shook his head again.

She looked at him stubbornly. “I’m trying to help you.”

“And I’m trying to keep you safe. Do you have it?”

She gazed at him sternly for another moment and then took the newspaper out of her bag. She pretended to read the front page. As the train picked up speed she unfolded the paper. Taped to it was a USB stick. The way it was positioned, only Robie could see it. With a swipe of his hand he slipped the stick into his pocket.

He turned to leave, but Vance gripped his elbow. Robie looked at her cautiously. He was afraid she was about to blow everything.

She mouthed two words:

Kick ass.

He nodded curtly, turned, and weaved his way through the passengers. As the train entered the next station he drew close to the door. As he was exiting he looked over at Vance. She was staring off. But Robie could read her mind.

She doesn’t believe I’m going to survive this.

And if I’m honest with myself, neither do I.

Robie rejoined Reel in her rental car. As she drove through the streets, he used a laptop to scroll through the files Vance had given him.

“Anything?” she asked.

“Vance got me all she could find on suspicious movements overseas, heightened threat alerts. Upgraded military preparedness. Unusual chatter in the usual places.”

“And?”

“There’s some strange sub activity in the Atlantic. We’re sending a few more ships to the Persian Gulf, probably to do with Iran. And there was a surprise naval exercise in the Pacific. But that’s all on our side. I’m not finding anything that might be what we’re looking for, meaning unusual movement by our enemies.”

“Nothing?”

“Wait a minute,” Robie said sharply.

He scanned down a page. “I remember seeing this on TV a while back, but that was before I knew about any of this so I didn’t make the connection.”

“What is it?”

“The president is going to Ireland for a conference on terrorism.”

“So?”

“It’s not just the president.”

“Okay, who else will be there?”

He looked up. “All the leaders of the G8. The Godfather scenario is a lot easier to play out if all of them are in the same place.”

“But, Robie, think of the security they’ll have there. Locked down tighter than anything else on the planet. There is no way they can hit that. No way.”

“After 9/11, I refuse to say anything is impossible.”

“But you said the president will be there. He’s not part of the target.”

“According to West’s paper he wasn’t. That doesn’t mean they’re sticking to the paper in every detail. Maybe they want to nail him too.”

“I get the bad guys coming after us. But why in the hell would people inside our government want to kill the president? And I still don’t understand why they would want to kill the G8 leaders.”

“They’re traitors. Maybe they were just paid off. It happens.”

Reel didn’t look remotely convinced. “But this is not some gundown in the street, Robie. This is global meltdown. If they are being paid off, where are they going to spend their money? They have to live on the planet too. It makes no sense.”

“You’re the one who believes that this white paper West wrote is at the center of this whole thing. If you no longer think that, I need to know, right now.”

“I do still believe it.”

“Because of Joe Stockwell?” he said.

She nodded, blinking slowly. “Yes.”

“Who did he get close enough to in order to figure this out?”

“I don’t know. I wish I did. He sent me enough details for me to know what was going on. He sent me the names on the list. He told me what they were planning to do based on that paper, at least as much as he knew of it.”

“Did he send you the paper?”

“No. I got that from another friend of mine who tracked it down.”

“Nice to have friends.”

“So do we go to Ireland?”

“If that’s where the hit is going to take place, I don’t see an alternative.”

“How about we tell Vance our suspicions? She can send word up the line.”

“They’re not going to take any action without meeting her sources. And she can’t tell them it’s us without getting herself arrested. Same reason we can’t do it. So that’s a no-go,” said Robie.

“You have a fake passport the agency doesn’t know about?”

“Of course,” said Robie.

“Then maybe it’s time to head to Ireland.”

Robie looked down at the screen once more. “Maybe it is.”

“I would like to check one other thing, Robie.”

“What’s that?”

She picked up her phone. “The friend.”

“Where is this friend? And can he or she be trusted?”

“Yes, he can. And he works at the mall.”

“The mall? Doing what?”

“He’s a whiz at video games. Among other things.”

“What can he find out for us?”

“The real name of Roger the Dodger. Because that son of a bitch is going to die and I’m going to pull the trigger.”

CHAPTER

67

THERE WERE FIVE MEN IN the room:

Evan Tucker.

Blue Man.

Gus Whitcomb, the APNSA.

The director of the FBI, Steve Colwell.

And the president of the United States.

The president said, “Any leads on who killed Howard Decker?”

Colwell shook his head. “Not yet, sir. It was an execution-style hit. We’ve recovered the bullet, but we have no gun to match it to.”

The president looked incredulous. “And no one saw anything? They were in a damn public park.”

“We’ve made inquiries,” said Colwell. “Unfortunately, we’ve turned up no witnesses yet.”

Tucker said, “There might not be any witnesses. If it was a professional hit they would have made sure there was no one around.”

“But for what purpose?” asked the president.