James Grippando - The Abduction

“Where to?” she asked.

Harley slowed as they approached DuPont Circle. “We need some time to regroup before nine o’clock. I suggest we go to the field operations center we’ve set up for tonight. It’s just a block away from the hotel where you’re supposed to drop the ransom. The place still looks like a vacant retail outlet, so no one knows it’s there. Right now, it’s probably the one place in Washington you can visit without being noticed.”

“How are you going to get the ransom to me so I can deliver it?”

“It’s in a vault back at headquarters. I’ll have someone bring it to us once we get to the field operations center.”

She nodded.

Harley said, “It’s going to be difficult to keep this story quiet. You’ve got park rangers, metropolitan police, the medical examiner’s office, FBI. Lots of opportunities for leaks. I’m sure the press already knows two people are dead. Within the hour they’ll know one of them’s your husband-no matter how tight we try to screw on the lid.”

“I didn’t expect to keep it quiet.”

“What are your expectations?”

“I expect to find Emily. And to get Kristen Howe home safely.”

He nodded. “I was thinking about that last phone call. Kind of interesting that after all that just happened in the park, the kidnapper still wants you to stick to the plan and go to the hotel.”

“What do you mean, ‘interesting’?”

“It just leads me to believe that he must have a pretty elaborate plan. No matter what happens, he won’t change the venue. You have to meet him at the Hyatt at nine o’clock.”

“Is that good or bad?”

“Cuts both ways. On the one hand, it gives us time to check things out. We have agents posed as hotel employees. They’ve been discreetly inspecting the hotel and surrounding area, making sure all is secure. No bombs, booby traps, what have you. On the other hand-well, he must have some reason for picking that particular place.”

“Are you trying to tell me yet again that this is too dangerous for me?”

He stopped the car at the traffic light, glancing her way. “He did authorize you to wear a disguise, Allison. That makes it easier for us to use a double, if you want.”

She shook her head. “Now, more than ever, this is my responsibility. Even if it’s true that Peter told the kidnappers to return Kristen unharmed, the fact remains that he hired them. It’s like that example they teach you in law school-you can’t fire a bazooka into a crowd and say, sorry, folks, but I didn’t really intend to hurt anybody.”

He shook his head, not quite comprehending. “So you feel compelled to risk your life for Kristen Howe because it turns out your husband is a psychopath?”

“Partly,” she said. “But mostly because Emily is still my daughter.”

The traffic light changed. Harley hit the gas. “You know, Allison, only two people heard Peter’s confession. You and me. The media may find out your husband was killed. But I don’t see any reason for them to know your husband was behind the kidnapping. I mean, we’ll have to file a report. But that doesn’t have to be tonight.”

“Thank you. But there is one other person who is going to hear it tonight.”

“Who?”

“Tanya Howe,” she said, staring at the raindrops on the windshield. “It’s time I told her who kidnapped her daughter.”

General Howe reclined in his leather seat the moment the pilot switched off the FASTEN SEAT BELT sign. The mood was festive among his staff in the back of the campaign jet, but Howe was in his restful mode. He switched off his reading light and glanced out the window to enjoy the view. Washington was in lights, beautiful from above. Looking down from the sky made him feel almost godlike. In just a few hours, he’d own this town.

The air-telephone rang in the seat beside him. He answered quickly. It was his strategist.

“This is big,” said LaBelle.

He sipped his Dewars and water. “What do you got, Buck?”

“It’s just hitting the wires now. Apparently, Leahy had another go-around with the kidnapper around five o’clock this evening. This time at Rock Creek Park.”

He stiffened in his seat. “What the hell is going on with that woman?”

“Thankfully, another disaster. Kidnapper got away. Some old man who runs the equestrian center got whacked. Another guy is dead. It may be Allison’s husband.”

“Her husband?”

“Yes. No confirmation yet, but that’s the rumor.”

“That’s terrible,” said the general.

“No shit. It could swing the sympathy factor right back in her favor.”

Howe bristled. The way LaBelle had so quickly reduced his opponent’s loss to political terms had taken him aback-but only for a moment. “What can we do, Buck?”

“Now more than ever we have to get you on television to reverse your position on the payment of the ransom. We have to keep people thinking about your granddaughter. Sure, what happened to Allison’s husband is bad. But let’s keep reminding them that a little girl’s life is still at stake.”

“I told you I would do that just as soon as you found O’Brien. It makes me nervous that the FBI is looking for him.”

“Sir, I understand that. And I don’t know why the FBI is looking for him. But nobody can find him. My investigators tell me that Marine Patrol may have found his sailboat with some traces of blood on it. Could be foul play or even attempted suicide. I don’t know. All I do know is that O’Brien has nothing to do with your decision to pay a ransom.”

Howe lowered his voice so no one could overhear. “Damn it, Buck. We have to think about appearances here. Look at the series of events. First, O’Brien comes to us and tells us he slept with Allison Leahy. Then he flunks a lie detector test. Then he disappears. Now you’re telling me there’s blood on his sailboat. It’s starting to sound like somebody killed him.”

“Possible, I guess.”

“What if the people who killed him are the same people who kidnapped Kristen? What if all this comes out in a few weeks or months? What will the American people think if I suddenly say I’ve changed my mind one hundred and eighty degrees and now I am willing to pay these dirty bastards a million dollars?”

“I don’t know what they’ll think.”

His voice was shrill but still a whisper. “They’ll think I masterminded some idiotic Oliver Stone conspiracy, that’s what they’ll think. They’ll think the million dollars was last-minute hush money or a payoff. At least that’s the kind of nonsense those bastards over on Capitol Hill will lead them to believe. I don’t want my entire first term tied up in congressional hearings.”

“General, if you don’t make that speech tonight and offer to pay the ransom, you may not have a first term.”

The general paused and sipped his drink. “You honestly believe that, Buck?”

“I honestly do. You have to keep the sympathy factor in your camp, General. Because if it turns out that dead guy in the park really is Allison Leahy’s husband, I may just feel sorry enough to vote for her, myself.”

He sucked an ice cube, then crunched it in his teeth. “All right, damn it. I’ll give the speech.”

Time constraints made it impossible for Allison to sit down face-to-face with Tanya Howe and explain everything. It was only a twenty-minute car ride to the operations center, but Allison didn’t want to wait another minute before making the phone call. She recalled at least two prior occasions when Tanya should have been the first person she’d called, but Tanya had been forced to call her. She wasn’t going to be embarrassed like that again. Harley continued driving across the district as she placed the call on her encrypted cellular phone.