Дэвид Балдаччи - The Sixth Man

“Turn you and Bunting over to them? They’ll kill you both.”

“Maybe, maybe not.”

“They will kill you,” said Sean. “They have no other possible reason to do the exchange.”

“One would think,” said Roy somewhat vaguely.

“We’re meeting your sister and Bunting. Be there in about ten minutes,” said Michelle. “Do you think she’ll have a simple answer?”

“I think she’ll have an answer. Kel usually does. To everything.”

“Her options may be limited.”

“She knows that, I’m sure.”

“She’s not going to give you up, Edgar,” said Michelle. “You’re her brother. She’s not going to do that.”

“But then a lot of people will get hurt.”

“We’ll have to do something called damage containment,” replied Sean.

“I’m familiar with the phrase. But that’s usually reserved for cases where you have multiple assets on the ground. We don’t have that luxury. Foster and by extension Quantrell have lots of resources.”

“Do you think they’re working together still? Even after they were told one is trying to screw the other?” asked Michelle.

Roy said, “They’re playing it on multiple fronts. They’ll prepare for the worst but execute any plan that seems feasible. Riley being a valuable asset is one they held in reserve. They may have intended on playing this one all along. That doesn’t mean they now trust each other. In fact, they probably don’t.”

“So what’s the glue that’s holding them together?”

“My sister talked to me about that. She thinks the glue is James Harkes. And I agree with her.”

“Tell us about him,” said Sean.

“Decorated veteran. Purple Heart. Bronze Star. Short-listed for the Silver. Been a field agent for the CIA and DIA. He’s good.”

“Is he smart enough to play this all the way?”

“You’ll have to ask my sister. She knows more about him than I do.”

“So they’ve worked together? She mentioned something like that, I think.”

“I’m not so sure they worked together.”

“What then?”

“I think they almost killed each other. And from the way she tells it she was lucky to walk away.”

“If they’re both American agents why would that have happened?” asked Michelle.

“It’s complicated, apparently. But Harkes being on their side is not good for us.”

Sean turned back around and sighed. “Great.”

A few minutes later they turned down a quiet residential street. The garage door opened at their approach, and Michelle drove into it. The door closed behind them.

Kelly Paul was waiting at the door into the house.

“Do we have a plan for tomorrow?” asked Sean, as they passed through into the house.

“We have a plan,” replied Paul. “There’s just no guarantee that it will work.”

THE DAY SET FOR THE HOSTAGE exchange broke clear and cold. The masses on the Mall were in place by ten o’clock. There were speeches, demonstrations, songs, more speeches, portable toilets by the thousands, and lots of signs with the peace symbol on them.

The Air and Space Museum was one of the most popular of the Smithsonian’s offerings. It was just down the street from the Smithsonian Castle.

The museum was ground zero.

Two hours to go.

The cold weather helped, because everyone was dressed in coats, hats, and scarves, and thus disguise was made far easier.

Sean and Michelle were on the Mall near the US Capitol. Edgar Roy, wearing a hoodie and with his face pointed downward, sat in a wheelchair that Sean was pushing. Sean used one hand to tug his coat tighter around him. It was a snug fit for a very good reason.

Michelle’s gaze swept the area. She said, “Looks to be over a hundred thousand people out here at least.”

“At least,” agreed Sean.

“A hundred and sixty-nine thousand,” corrected Roy.

Sean glanced down. “How do you know that? Don’t tell me you counted everyone?”

“No. But I’ve seen enough grids of the Mall in my work with the E-Program. It’s a top target of terrorists. You can determine the number of people by how many grids are full.”

“Regardless, it’s still a lot of people,” said Michelle.

“And potentially a lot of casualties,” added Sean in a worried tone.

James Harkes was standing in probably the best observation post on the Mall: at the top of the Washington Monument with a pair of stellar optics. He surveyed the people down below and then made a call.

Mason Quantrell was on his Boeing Dreamliner coming back from a meeting in California. He answered before the first ring had finished.

“Status?” he asked eagerly.

“The Mall is filling up. I have a prime post. All the players are in place or soon will be. When will you be on the ground?”

“Three hours and twenty minutes.”

“I hope to have good news to welcome you with, sir.”

“Not that you need a reminder, but you pull this off, there’s fifty million dollars waiting for you, tax free. And I’ll throw in another ten million as a bonus. You’ll never have to work another day in your life.”

“I appreciate that, Mr. Quantrell. More than you know.”

“Good luck, Harkes.”

As Harkes clicked off he thought, None of this will be about luck.

He made another call.

This too was answered on the first ring.

Ellen Foster was at her home sitting on her bed. She was still in her nightgown, her hair unkempt and her gut full of acid. Today was Saturday. She had had an event planned for out of town but had her people reschedule it, citing illness. Which wasn’t far from the truth. She felt quite sick.

“Harkes, how’s it going?” Her voice was high-pitched, riddled by nerves barely held in check.

“Things are coming into place. But you need to take a few deep breaths and get yourself under control.”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

He heard her following his advice. One-two-three deep breaths. When she came back on the line, her voice sounded almost normal.

“Have you spotted them yet?”

“No, but I wouldn’t expect to. They have a while yet. And knowing them, they won’t show themselves a second before it’s necessary.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because if it were me, I wouldn’t either.”

“You really think they’ll come?”

“Frankly, I can’t control what they do, Secretary Foster. All I can do is create an atmosphere where the probabilities are that they will do what we want them to do. And I think that we have.”

“How do you see it going down?”

“They get Riley. We get Roy and Bunting.”

“I disagree. Kelly Paul won’t let it go that easily. When she trapped me in that bathroom at Lincoln Center she was very clear. She wanted her brother back. If she has him she won’t let him go without a fight. It’s just not possible.”

“She lied to you,” said Harkes. “She had her brother the entire time. She was trying to turn you against Quantrell. If she didn’t have her brother, why would she have agreed to come to the exchange? We called their bluff and it worked.”

“You’re right, I’m still not thinking clearly.”

“But I don’t disagree with you about Kelly Paul’s intentions. She’ll try to offer up Bunting only on this exchange. They’ll figure we won’t retaliate if we get something in return for giving up Riley.”

“But what about Roy?”

“I have a plan for that.”

“You mean follow them back to where they’re holding him?”

“Something even better. Look, I’ve got to go. Things are starting to heat up.”

“James, I will be very appreciative when this is all over. I mean that.”