The Sixth Man (Sean King & Michelle Maxwell 5)

“You blend in nicely at a peace rally, Peter, particularly for a defense contractor,” she told him dryly.

Bunting did not smile at her little joke. “How many do you think they have here?”

“More than they need. Overwhelming force is not just a government prerogative.”

“Do you think Quantrell or Foster are here?”

“Nowhere near the place. Leaders invariably let their minions fight it out.”

“Do you think it will become violent?”

“I have no way to know. I hope not, but it’s really out of my control.”

He gazed at her with respect. “You don’t seem nervous.”

“On the contrary, I am very nervous.”

“You hide it well.”

“Yes I do. And you need to do the same.”

The whole time she was talking she was watching everything going on around them.

“What do you think they did with Avery’s body?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’d like to give him a proper burial.”

“Fine, Peter. But for now let’s focus on those still breathing.”

She looked at her watch.

One hour to go.

Megan Riley was wedged between two large men who had guns under their parkas. Her hair was filthy, her face was unclean, and there was a deep bruise on her left cheek from a blow she had suffered. Her wrists were rubbed raw from handcuffs she’d worn. Her blouse underneath the jacket was smeared with blood. She had lost weight and her eyes seemed unfocused. She trudged along, her gaze downcast.

Up ahead was the Air and Space Museum. If she recognized it, Riley gave no reaction.

There was now only ten minutes to go.

James Harkes moved through the crowds at a measured pace. He knew exactly where each of his men was positioned. The timing had to be precise. He looked ahead and saw Riley and her two bodyguards heading toward the museum. Riley had been told that she would be killed if she made a sound.

He looked in the other direction. The woman was tall and wore a dark trench coat nearly down to her ankles. The man next to her was taller. He was dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt and held a sign. They were working their way toward ground zero.

On the north side of the Mall Harkes spotted the man in the wheelchair. He was being pushed along by his companion. The dark-haired woman marched beside them. Their destination seemed to be ground zero too.

Harkes picked up his pace and reached in his pocket. He had to assume that everyone would be armed. If they weren’t they were fools. He said a few words that were picked up by a communication device in his ear.

He glanced at his watch.

Two minutes to go.

Sean and Michelle were almost there. He tapped Roy on the shoulder.

“One minute,” he said softly.

Roy nodded and put his hands on his thighs, tensing his body.