The 14th Colony (Cotton Malone 11)

“That’s impossible,” he said. “Much too dangerous. He needs to come out of it himself.”

She’d known that would be the response so she displayed her badge again and said, “I can only say, Doctor, that what’s at stake here is vital to this country. I have less than three hours to figure something out and I have to speak with my agent. I assure you, Luke would want you to do this.”

The man shook his head, holding firm.

She had to know, “Is there a stimulus you can give him that will bring him out of it?”

“There is, but I’m not administering it.”

Sue stepped toward the bed and yanked Luke upright, slapping him hard across the face.

Okay. That’d work, too.

The doctor moved to stop her, but Stephanie cut him off with her drawn weapon.

“Get out,” she said.

Shock came to the man’s face as he fled.

Sue slapped Luke again, then shook him. Luke began to cough, opening his eyes like someone roused from sleep, his pupils slow to focus and darkly stained beneath. More than a two-day stubble dusted his chin. He did not look or act like himself.

“It works in the field,” Sue said.

Stephanie smiled. That it did. “Luke, I need you to wake up.”

She could see that he was trying hard to do just that.

“I have to know if there’s anything to find in that house.”

She glanced at Sue and decided there was no choice, so she nodded and another slap popped the side of his face.

His eyes went wide, looking straight at Sue. “Did you … smack me?”

She grinned. “Only with the greatest of respect.”

He rubbed his cheeks. “That hurt.”

“Did you hear what I asked?” Stephanie said.

“Yeah, I got it. But I’m having a hard time breathing.”

Oxygen lines wrapped his head and fed air straight to his nostrils. She gave him a moment to savor a few breaths of clean air.

“The roof collapsed,” he said. “How did I get out?”

Stephanie pointed at Sue. “She saved your ass.”

“Looks like I owe you one.”

Stephanie found her phone and dialed. When the connection established she hit SPEAKER. Danny had been waiting for her call, he too knowing they were dead in the water except for what Luke might know.

“That Tallmadge journal is … in the house,” Luke said. “We were reading it. Begyn and I.” He rubbed his head. “But we … didn’t finish … before the shooting started.”

“The house burned bad,” Sue said. “But it is still standing.”

“So the journal is gone,” a new voice said.

Danny. Through the phone.

Luke saw the unit in her hand. “No, it’s not.”

“Talk to us, Luke,” Danny said. “I got the entire U.S. government coming through the gates. Do I need to get them out of here?”

“That journal,” Luke said, “is inside a fireproof cabinet in the master bedroom closet. A secret chamber Begyn knew about.”

It seemed to take all he had to get that out.

She gestured that he should take it easy.

“Stephanie, you’re the closest we have,” Danny said. “Petrova wanted that journal in the worst way. We need it.”

And Zorin doesn’t have it, yet he continues to move forward.

“I’m headed there now.”

“I’ll send some help by chopper. But get there first and check it out.”

* * *

Malone stared at Danny Daniels. When the call came from Stephanie the president had walked across the second-floor hallway into the sitting room where he and Edwin Davis had set up headquarters. Downstairs was far too busy, with too many people for even a semblance of privacy. New staff were eagerly beginning to claim their assigned posts as the old closed out their desks.

“I should go to that house,” Malone said to the president.

Daniels shook his head. “You and Cassiopeia are the only ones who know exactly what Zorin and Kelly look like. I’m going to need you both in the security center. We have cameras everywhere. See if you spot either one of them outside the fence.”

“That’s not much of a defense.”

“It’s all we’ve got.”

“Shouldn’t you be downstairs greeting guests?”

“Like I give a damn. And by the way, they don’t give a crap about me. I’m yesterday’s toast.”

So far they hadn’t been able to locate the car Zorin stole, but agents were still examining traffic cam footage. A be-on-the-lookout alert had been issued to every law enforcement agency, but estimates were that nearly a million people would be in town today and tomorrow.

“He’s got a bomb,” Daniels said. “You and I both know that.”

Malone agreed. “He might even have more than one.”

“He’s going to try and blow this whole place to kingdom come,” Daniels said. “And we can’t do a damn thing about it short of causing a panic. And if we’re wrong? There’ll be hell to pay.” Daniels glared at him with a look of resignation.

The lack of concrete evidence of a definitive threat continued to make their case next to impossible to press.

“I don’t know why we don’t just do this damn swearing-in at the Capitol, Sunday or no Sunday. If the idea is to respect the Lord’s day, we’re working harder today than we will tomorrow.”

Malone heard the frustration.

“The experts tell me Zorin’s got to get close,” Daniels said. “Which means he has to tote that case with him.”

Along with a sledgehammer, bolt cutters, and a hasp lock, which Zorin had made a point to retrieve. Daniels was right. Monitoring the perimeter cameras seemed like a smart thing.

He stood.

So did the president, dressed in a sharp suit and tie. Tomorrow it would be black tie and tails for his last appearance on the platform before the Capitol.

“They also tell me that it ain’t like on TV,” Daniels said. “There’s no digital counter on these things beeping away. They were made long before those ever existed. In fact, there’s no counter at all. That’s too many moving parts. They kept it simple. To shut it down just flip a switch inside or pull the wires from the battery. That stops the charge, which builds the heat, which triggers the reaction. But if there’s enough heat and that trigger snaps, there’s no way to stop anything.”

He did not like the sound of that.

“Thought you should know,” Daniels said. “Just in case. I’ll be downstairs. Doing what lame ducks do.”

Malone glanced at his watch.

10:20 A.M.

1 hour and 40 minutes to go.

CHAPTER SEVENTY-FIVE