Edward Savage Eleanor Custis
Martha Washington 16
Hopefully, while she and Joe Levy finished their performance on the Mall, Carol had solved the riddle. Like Danny had said a few hours ago outside the White House, as he exited her car, Remember, the second mouse to the trap is the one who always gets the cheese.
Carol Williams entered the Founders Room. Visitors wandered in and out too, the building’s coat check located just beyond. They drifted near the fireplace, among a cluster of comfortable upholstered chairs, beneath Mellon’s portrait. Chick-fil-A Man stood at the doorway to keep watch, but little danger existed anymore. The turkeys were long gone.
“It was easy,” Carol said. “I didn’t even need the Internet. This one I know.”
Stephanie’s phone vibrated, the caller unknown.
She decided to answer.
“Ms. Nelle, this call is a courtesy, ordered by my superiors,” said the male voice, which she recognized.
The Chinese ambassador.
“Our friends to the south were not happy with what I secured from you. It was not as … substantial as they’d hoped. Whether it be true or false matters not to us. Regardless of what you think, we are simply trying to keep two allies happy. But being in the middle of this fight has proven most unpleasant. We are done. It is over, as far as we are concerned. But I cannot say the same for our friends to the south. They are the ones currently handling the operation overseas and they have decided to eliminate all remnants of the problem. I pass the message on as a show of good faith that we are not your enemy.”
She sucked a deep breath.
“They have trained personnel on the ground in Croatia,” the ambassador said. “They made a move on Kim, which failed. They now have sent their assets to finish the task. They have orders to kill Kim, his daughter, Howell, and anyone else who may be on that train, which includes any American assets. As I said, they are angry.”
This man was clearly informed.
“Thanks for the warning.”
“Not at all. It is, after all, what friends do for one another.”
She ended the call.
It’s a two-front war, Cotton had told her.
And he was right.
She quickly sent one more text.
SIXTY-ONE
CROATIA
Malone heard the train approaching, maybe a mile down the tracks. He’d checked the schedule board and saw that this was the last one due here for the night. Only a handful of people were around, the station nearly empty. Inside the station was a cavernous hall with a lofty ceiling supported by iron beams. The remaining Korean stood on the loading platform, off to the side, near one of the iron supports that held up an overhang. Both of the man’s hands rested inside his coat pockets, one of them probably holding a weapon. Malone’s gun was just beneath his leather jacket. What was their plan? Were there assets on the train to secure Kim and then these two would be waiting to take him away? Or were these two the only ones involved, here to claim Kim as he disembarked? He’d done his part to make things difficult here. But what were Luke and Isabella facing?
His phone vibrated.
He’d been waiting for the text.
Under control here. All done. Worked perfectly. No Chinese on your end. It’s NK. They are greenlighted to move on all of you.
He knew what that meant. There was no way Kim Yong Jin would be allowed to just walk away. For good measure, they’d also take out anyone else who happened to be nearby.
And he’d provided them the perfect venue.
This Croatian isolation worked both ways.
Which meant things were about to get messy.
* * *
Isabella kept moving forward, advancing to the connecting space between the cars. There were still passengers in some of the seats ahead of her, the bodies and commotion now behind them. Farther on, in the next car, began the first-class compartments.
The train was slowing.
Luke stood to her left, she to the right of the door into the next car, both of them with guns drawn. She ventured a quick look and saw Kim moving down the center aisle, still holding the black satchel, which surely contained a gun.
“We need to stop him,” Luke said.
She nodded her understanding.
“Let’s do it,” he said.
* * *
Kim was looking for his adversary, intent on killing the final obstacle to his success. The man had fled toward where Hana and Howell waited among the first-class compartments. One more car and he’d be there. His left arm held the satchel while his right hand was inside, wrapped around the gun. None of the passengers here seemed concerned, as they surely had no idea what had happened behind them. The clank of wheels to rails seemed more than enough noise to mask the suppressed shots. He glanced out the exterior windows and saw lights. That and the ever-slowing speed indicated they’d arrived in Solaris.
“Kim Yong Jin.”
He stopped and turned.
A man and woman stood at the far end of the car, guns pointed toward him.
* * *
Hana sensed that something had gone wrong. She lowered her gun, grabbed the clipped stacked of papers, and stood from her seat.
“Where are you going?” Howell asked.
She ignored him and slid open the compartment door, stealing a quick look into the car behind her. Through the glass in the doors she saw her father, facing away, a man and woman at the car’s rear with guns aimed at him.
Then another man.
The first Korean who’d boarded the train.
He was standing in the space between her exit door and the entrance for the next car. He held a gun and was carefully peering around the window’s edge toward her father, his back to her.
She aimed at the door two meters away and fired.
* * *
Kim heard glass break behind him.
He whirled and dropped down at the same time, expecting to see the last Korean bearing down on him. Instead he caught sight of Hana through the now obliterated half of the door to the next car.
Then the Korean appeared, coming to his feet.
The squeal of brakes to wheels, then wheels to rails signaled the train was stopping. He saw the man dart left and disappear. The two problems behind him had also sought cover. He decided to give them more reason to stay down. He tossed the satchel aside and fired three shots in their direction, then rushed the door and slipped out.
The Korean was gone.
Hana emerged from the car ahead.
“Get Howell.”
The train was fully stopped.
They had to leave.
Now.
* * *
Malone timed his move to coincide with the torrent of noise that accompanied the train’s arrival, assuming that would be the moment of maximum distraction. Hopefully, his target would not expect an attack from the platform, the focus on the train and what may have happened there. So far he’d stayed back, out of sight, using another of the iron supports for cover. The platform itself was dimly lit, which helped. Several workers busied themselves in preparing for the arrival, the train easing to a full stop.
A man leaped from one of the lead cars while the wheels were still moving. Asian. Holding a gun. The man on the platform yelled something not in English, the first whirling around and realizing that he now had an ally. He pointed up to the train and signaled for them to retreat.
Three more people emerged to the station.
Kim and his daughter, both toting guns, and Howell.
What the hell happened?
* * *
Isabella knew instantly what they had to do, as apparently did Luke. Kim had fled ahead so they needed to exit the train from the doors just behind them. The few passengers in the car slowly rose from the floor, where they’d all plunged when Kim starting shooting.
Everyone appeared okay.
They slid open the door and hopped down to the station.