“The Mall is a popular place, always people around.”
“But the day after tomorrow. Will there be more people around?”
He performed a Web search on his phone. Paul looked at the screen.
“I have to hand it to them. Shows some style.”
“They’re going to do a hostage exchange in the middle of a peace rally,” said Bunting grimly.
CHAPTER 81
IT WAS EARLY IN THE MORNING, and Michelle had driven most of the night to get them to D.C. Sean was asleep in the seat next to her. Roy had nodded off in the backseat. The sky was overcast and promised more rain from a storm system that had been pounding the East Coast.
“Cold, wet, and dark. Sort of matches my mood.”
Michelle glanced over to see that Sean was awake and staring out the window.
He looked at her and smiled resignedly. “Tomorrow will be a busy day.”
They crossed over a bridge and hung a right, following the directions Paul had given them when she’d called about the latest development involving Megan Riley.
Michelle glanced over at a street corner. “I held a post on that street corner for twelve hours. It was the day after 9/11. Nobody knew what the hell was going on. I wasn’t even working protection back then. I was assigned to a forgery case in Maryland. They pulled a bunch of us in to supplement the protection detail for the president and the VP. By the time I was relieved every muscle I had was in a knot. But you know what?”
“You didn’t want to leave your post.”
She nodded. “How’d you know?”
“When 9/11 happened I was practicing law, been out of the Service for a while. I watched it on TV along with every other American. I wanted to suit back up, come to D.C., and help out. That could never happen, of course.” He grew silent and then added in a low voice, “But I really wanted to come back and help.”
“Things have really gotten screwed up, haven’t they?”
“Actually, they’ve been screwed up for a long time. Which means we all have to work a little harder to fix them.”
“That’s a good attitude to have.” Roy sat up and swept a hand through his hair. He looked at them. “The world is complicated, so people seek complicated solutions. And there’s nothing wrong with that because simple answers don’t usually work. But sometimes the answers are simple and people still refuse to see them.”
“Meaning?” asked Sean.
“Meaning the simpler approach in certain circumstances is better, if only because there’re fewer things that can go wrong.”
“You know what they want,” said Michelle.
“Me and Peter Bunting, yes. For Megan Riley. And of course their threat to kill many other innocent people.”
“So what’s the simple answer to that?” asked Sean.
“To give them what they want.”
“Turn you and Bunting over to them? They’ll kill you both.”
“Maybe, maybe not.”
“They will kill you,” said Sean. “They have no other possible reason to do the exchange.”
“One would think,” said Roy somewhat vaguely.
“We’re meeting your sister and Bunting. Be there in about ten minutes,” said Michelle. “Do you think she’ll have a simple answer?”
“I think she’ll have an answer. Kel usually does. To everything.”
“Her options may be limited.”
“She knows that, I’m sure.”
“She’s not going to give you up, Edgar,” said Michelle. “You’re her brother. She’s not going to do that.”
“But then a lot of people will get hurt.”
“We’ll have to do something called damage containment,” replied Sean.
“I’m familiar with the phrase. But that’s usually reserved for cases where you have multiple assets on the ground. We don’t have that luxury. Foster and by extension Quantrell have lots of resources.”
“Do you think they’re working together still? Even after they were told one is trying to screw the other?” asked Michelle.
Roy said, “They’re playing it on multiple fronts. They’ll prepare for the worst but execute any plan that seems feasible. Riley being a valuable asset is one they held in reserve. They may have intended on playing this one all along. That doesn’t mean they now trust each other. In fact, they probably don’t.”
“So what’s the glue that’s holding them together?”
“My sister talked to me about that. She thinks the glue is James Harkes. And I agree with her.”
“Tell us about him,” said Sean.
“Decorated veteran. Purple Heart. Bronze Star. Short-listed for the Silver. Been a field agent for the CIA and DIA. He’s good.”
“Is he smart enough to play this all the way?”
“You’ll have to ask my sister. She knows more about him than I do.”
“So they’ve worked together? She mentioned something like that, I think.”
“I’m not so sure they worked together.”
“What then?”
“I think they almost killed each other. And from the way she tells it she was lucky to walk away.”
“If they’re both American agents why would that have happened?” asked Michelle.
“It’s complicated, apparently. But Harkes being on their side is not good for us.”
Sean turned back around and sighed. “Great.”
A few minutes later they turned down a quiet residential street. The garage door opened at their approach, and Michelle drove into it. The door closed behind them.
Kelly Paul was waiting at the door into the house.
“Do we have a plan for tomorrow?” asked Sean, as they passed through into the house.
“We have a plan,” replied Paul. “There’s just no guarantee that it will work.”
CHAPTER 82
THE DAY SET FOR THE HOSTAGE exchange broke clear and cold. The masses on the Mall were in place by ten o’clock. There were speeches, demonstrations, songs, more speeches, portable toilets by the thousands, and lots of signs with the peace symbol on them.
The Air and Space Museum was one of the most popular of the Smithsonian’s offerings. It was just down the street from the Smithsonian Castle.
The museum was ground zero.
Two hours to go.
The cold weather helped, because everyone was dressed in coats, hats, and scarves, and thus disguise was made far easier.
Sean and Michelle were on the Mall near the US Capitol. Edgar Roy, wearing a hoodie and with his face pointed downward, sat in a wheelchair that Sean was pushing. Sean used one hand to tug his coat tighter around him. It was a snug fit for a very good reason.
Michelle’s gaze swept the area. She said, “Looks to be over a hundred thousand people out here at least.”
“At least,” agreed Sean.
“A hundred and sixty-nine thousand,” corrected Roy.
Sean glanced down. “How do you know that? Don’t tell me you counted everyone?”
“No. But I’ve seen enough grids of the Mall in my work with the E-Program. It’s a top target of terrorists. You can determine the number of people by how many grids are full.”
“Regardless, it’s still a lot of people,” said Michelle.
“And potentially a lot of casualties,” added Sean in a worried tone.
James Harkes was standing in probably the best observation post on the Malclass="underline" at the top of the Washington Monument with a pair of stellar optics. He surveyed the people down below and then made a call.
Mason Quantrell was on his Boeing Dreamliner coming back from a meeting in California. He answered before the first ring had finished.
“Status?” he asked eagerly.