“I don’t understand. Then why are you crying?”
She stared at him in a way she never had before. It wasn’t her usual distrustful and surly expression. It was one of hopelessness. “He trusts you. Oliver has said this to me, he say Agent Fort is good man.”
“I like and respect Oliver too.” He paused and then added, “His face was bruised the last time I saw him. Does it have something to do with that?”
Adelphia nodded and told him of the encounter in the park. “He took this finger,” she said, holding up her middle finger, “and he poke it in the man’s side. And this giant of a man, he fall like baby.” She drew a deep, troubled breath. “And then Oliver, he pick up the knife and he hold it in a way”—she shuddered—“he hold it like he know well the knife. And I think he will cut the man’s neck open, like this.” She made a slashing motion with her hand and then stopped. She stared at Alex with an expression of both sadness and relief. “But he did not. He no cut the man. He leave when police come. Oliver no like police.”
“And you haven’t seen him since?”
She shook her head, and Alex sat back against the bench letting this all sink in.
“Hey, Ford,” a voice called out. Alex looked over at his supervisor.
“You wanna come back and join the party, if it’s not too much trouble?” the man said curtly.
Alex jumped up. Before leaving he turned to Adelphia. “If you see Oliver, tell him I want to talk to him.”
Adelphia didn’t look very enthused about that.
“I won’t tell him you told me anything. I promise. I just need to see him.”
She finally nodded and he raced off.
Work in Brennan for the president’s visit had accelerated, and Captain Jack was kept very busy. The vehicle being constructed in the garage was right on schedule, and the various wheelmen were ready. He hadn’t visited the snipers’ nest again. He didn’t want to risk being seen going to the apartment too often. Captain Jack had spent time with al-Rimi and his colleague at the hospital while the two were off duty. There were no problems there.
He had met once more with Djamila late last night after she had made her nightly rounds of Brennan. He was still a bit concerned about her emotional makeup, but there was no time to substitute now. He reinforced the notion of how important her work was to the whole project. About how many men would be sacrificing their lives and how that sacrifice would be for naught if she failed.
He would hold two more meetings before game day, one tonight, before the Secret Service advance team arrived in the morning. And, as with the last group meeting, he would afterward meet with his North Korean counterpart to go over necessary details.
However, Carter Gray was on the prowl. Actually, Captain Jack was a little surprised it had taken the old man this long to become suspicious. They had used every connection they had in the Muslim world to set up this operation. But Hemingway’s plan was, in Captain Jack’s mind, an ultimately futile exercise, although Tom Hemingway simply refused to see that. To Captain Jack’s thinking, Hemingway’s chief problem was he still believed in the good in people. That logic was inherently flawed, Captain Jack knew, because the people who really mattered didn’t possess any goodness. With every mission he’d ever carried out, Captain Jack always allowed for contingencies, and this time was no exception. Following his old maxim had once again led him down the right path. It really was all about the money.
In the rental space on the outskirts of town the engineer and chemist were going over again the workings of the prosthetic hand with the ex-National Guardsman.
He had gotten the maneuverings of the device down very well. They watched as he put his new hand through a series of grips, waves and other exercises. Then he executed the water bag implement flawlessly. Before leaving he thanked them both.
Afterward, the men packed up a duffel bag and headed into town, where they ran errands at a half dozen businesses along the town’s center. At each place they left a little present. These presents would further help lay a place in history for Brennan, Pennsylvania, although certainly not one the townspeople would have wanted.
CHAPTER
47
ALEX FOUND OUT LATER THAT day he’d been assigned to the advance team for the Brennan event. This thoroughly ticked him off, because it meant time away from Kate. However, it wasn’t as if he could complain. He was barely hanging on to his Service pension as it was. Indeed, Alex sensed that he’d be sent to every bump-in-the-road campaign outpost Brennan was targeting on his reelection charge across America. He’d be a zombie by the time it was over.
He and Kate met at a restaurant in Dupont Circle. She’d rebounded well from the frightening events of the previous night and was now determined to get to the truth. That spunk drew both admiration and terror from Alex.
“I understand how you feel, Kate, but don’t get carried away. These guys have guns, and they’re obviously not afraid to use them.”
“More reason to get them off the streets,” she said determinedly. “So when do you leave for Brennan?”
“Crack of dawn. It’s a short flight but there’s a lot to do. Advance teams do the heavy lifting that keeps the president safe. But it’s killing me that I won’t be around here in case you need me.”
She put her hand over his. “Well, for what it’s worth, I thought you were pretty damn terrific last night.”
Right as she said these words, their young waiter stopped by with their meals and overheard them. Obviously misinterpreting the import of her words, he gave Alex a wink and a smile.
As they ate, Kate asked, “So any new developments?”
“Just one.” He told her about his conversation with Adelphia about Stone.
“You said Stone didn’t have a past that you could find. And yet based on what Adelphia saw, he definitely has a past, maybe a pretty interesting one.”
Alex nodded and then looked thoughtful. “What do you say after we eat we take a little stroll over to 16th and Pennsylvania?”
“I hear that’s a really nice place. Think you can get me in?’’
“Right now I’m not sure they’d let me in. But I was talking about the 16th and Pennsylvania on the other side of the street.”
Forty-five minutes later the two arrived at Lafayette Park.
“Doesn’t look like he’s there,” Alex observed as he stared at Stone’s darkened tent. This was confirmed moments later when they opened the tent and saw it was empty.
“So you have another address for the man?” Kate asked.
“Actually, I do.”
Twenty minutes later Alex pulled his car to the curb outside Mt. Zion Cemetery.
A light was on in the caretaker’s cottage.
“He lives here?” Kate asked. “At a cemetery?”
“What’d you expect? A penthouse near the MCI Center?”
The gate to the cemetery was locked, but Alex boosted Kate over and then scaled the fence, landing next to
her.
When he answered their knock, Stone couldn’t hide his surprise. “Alex?” he said, and then glanced curiously at Alex’s companion.
“Hello, Oliver, this is my friend Kate Adams. She’s a lawyer at Justice and the best bartender anyone could want.”
“Ms. Adams, it’s very nice to meet you,” Stone said, shaking her hand. He looked questioningly at Alex again.
“We just thought we’d drop by to see you,” Alex said.
“I see. Well, please come in.” Stone didn’t ask how Alex knew where he lived.
He let them into the cottage and then poured out some coffee he’d made while they looked around. Kate leafed through a book she pulled from the shelf. “Have you read all these, Oliver?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said, “though most of them not more than twice, I’m afraid. Unfortunately, there’s never enough time to read as much as one would want.”