Hell's Corner (Camel Club 5)

“He just wants to talk,” said the woman, desperation creeping into her voice.

“I’d be glad to entertain him.”

“Okay, where?” the man asked.

“The outdoor parking lot down by the river. One hour.”

“Sir, the director—” began the woman as she nervously looked over her shoulder at the approaching people.

Stone cut in, “The director will be very pleased to meet me there at that time. Now keep walking so I can put my gun away.”

“This is highly irregular,” snapped the woman.

“Yes, it is.”

“We’re federal agents too,” added the man. “On the same side as you.”

“I’ll buy the first part, but not the second. Go!”

They walked off. Stone slipped the gun back in its holster and set out for the river. He wanted to get there first. He had things to get ready. He picked up his pace even as a knot grew in his stomach. It was one thing to risk life and limb trying to solve a complex case. It was quite another to have to do so while watching your rear flank. But apparently that was just

how things were now.

And why am I surprised?

CHAPTER 59

THE THREE VEHICLES PULLED UP to the empty parking lot and stopped. It was one o’clock in the morning, and being a weekday, working Washingtonians had long since finished their collective entertainment for the evening and gone home to sleep. The security team piled out first, checking out obvious attack points and sending personnel scurrying into these hidden crevices before signaling that it was safe for Riley Weaver to exit his ride. He was dressed in a suit and striped tie, looking more ready to step in front of a camera and play the pundit’s role or host a global conference on terrorism than skirmish with an ex-assassin in an empty parking lot at the edge of the Potomac. The bulge at his chest indicated the body armor he wore. He looked around a bit uncertainly before taking a few steps toward the water’s edge.

“Stone?” he called out.

A phone rang. Everyone grabbed cells.

“Sir,” said one of the guards as he picked up the ringing phone from the top of a pier piling, right where Stone had placed it earlier. He handed it to Weaver.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Director,” said Stone. “What can I do for you?”

His voice was on speakerphone. When Weaver tried to disable it, he couldn’t.

“What the hell are you doing?” he exclaimed. “It won’t let me off the speakerphone.”

“I want everyone to hear this. So again, what can I do for you?”

“You can start by showing yourself.” Weaver looked nervously around at the darkness.

“And why is that necessary? I thought you wanted to talk. All we need are voices to do that.”

“I wanted to meet at NIC,” snapped Weaver.

“And I picked this place instead.”

“Why?”

“Frankly, your place gives me the creeps. Never quite sure if I’m going to walk out or not.”

“What is wrong with you? You are a federal employee.”

“Of an agency unaffiliated with yours.”

“What are you afraid of?”

“You brought the SWAT team with you. Again! And you’re wearing Kevlar. What are you afraid of?”

Weaver performed a 360-degree spin, trying to see where Stone might be lurking.

“I’ve got long-range eyes, Director, so don’t even bother.”

“I don’t like it that you can see me but I can’t see you.”

“I like it just fine. And as your messengers said, we’re all on the same team.”

“Which begs the question of why we have to meet in such a damn fool way,” barked Weaver into the phone.

“Depends on what you want.”

“Did you speak to Agent Chapman tonight?”

“You know I did. Or else you wouldn’t be here.”

“What did she tell you?”

“She told me lots of things. You’ll have to be more specific.”

“About our arrangement.”

“Meaning you and her?”

“Come on, Stone, don’t play stupid.”

“You were a Marine, Weaver.”

“Still am. Never leave the Corps no matter what other uniform you put on.”

“I was hoping that would be your answer. And in combat who do you rely on?”

“Marine next to you.”

“That’s right. And did you ever keep secrets about the fight in front of you from the Marine next to you?”

Weaver didn’t answer right away. He glanced around at his security detail. Several of them were eyeing him closely.

“This isn’t exactly combat, Stone. You know that as well as anyone. You carried a rifle for your country.”

“It’s looking an awful lot like a battlefield to me.”

“So you’re saying Chapman told you?”

“I’m saying partners don’t keep secrets. If you have a problem with that, then the problem is with me, not her.”

“She could get in a lot of trouble for this.”

“But she won’t.”

“How the hell do you know that?”

“Hit the speakerphone button twice, Weaver.”

“What?”

“Just do it.”

Weaver did so and the speakerphone function was disabled. Weaver held the phone up to his ear. “What the hell are you playing at?”

“Nanobots.”

Weaver noticeably stiffened.

“And since you never got back to me with the list of events at Lafayette Park, I had someone do it for me. There’s a bunch of stuff on there that could have been the target for the bomb, but something tells me the answer isn’t anywhere on that list.”

“Where, then?”

“You know about the Pennsylvania adventure my friends had? And the executions of the Latinos?”

“Of course. I am the director of NIC.”

“Lot of trouble for a cover-up. Coupled with the fact that those shots into the park were fired from a government office building behind the Hay-Adams that one needed a pretty high security clearance to get into spells ‘traitor’ with a capital T.”

“Nothing new there. We’re looking into that angle.”

“Your ‘looking’ will show that the person who accessed the building used a stolen or cloned security card while the real card owner was halfway around the world.”

Weaver pursed his lips. “Cloned. Actual holder was in Tokyo.”

“And this person was with the State Department?”

“Jesus, Stone, what are you, a freaking mind reader?”

“No. The folks at State have always been lax about security. Thirty years ago half my missions were because they’d screwed up somehow. And I can see they haven’t changed.”

“Any thoughts on who the inside person might be?”

“Not yet. I need to keep digging. But, Weaver, if I have to spend all my time looking over my shoulder for your boys, that will be very distracting.”

“I can see why your superiors had such a hell of a time with you in the army. You don’t play well with others.”