Дэвид Балдаччи: The Fix

They walked down the hall to an auditorium. It was full, and Bogart and Milligan were already there in the front row.

Bogart looked up and caught their eye. He indicated the empty seats next to them.

On the raised dais was a podium with a microphone. Behind that was the United States flag on one side and the flag of the DIA on the other. On the wall behind was the DIA seal.

Decker stared at the seal and his mind went back to the first time he’d seen it and how Brown had described it to him. The black represented the unknown, while the flames and eagle represented knowledge and intelligence.

And didn’t those seem in short supply these days?

Yet they had broken through the unknown, hadn’t they?

But everything came with a price.

The director of the DIA appeared from the left side of the stage and approached the podium. He brought the ceremony to order and gave a few introductory remarks. Then he turned it over to a man who came out from stage right.

Everyone in attendance instantly rose to his or her feet.

Those in uniform saluted.

The President of the United States walked to the lectern. He had no teleprompter and he carried no notes. He adjusted the mike and looked out over the audience.

“Though exactly what happened at the Hoover Building has been largely kept classified for obvious reasons, we are here today to honor a patriot who acted with great heroism, without regard for her personal safety, and whose unselfish acts saved a great many people. As you know, this award is ordinarily given out by the Office of the Director of National Intelligence. However, since I number myself among those that she saved, I owe our recipient a great personal debt. One which I’m afraid I will never be able to repay. As some of you already know, her name will today be added to the DIA’s Torch Bearers Wall, not far from her father’s.”

In the front row Mars put a hand over his eyes and bowed his head. Decker put a supportive hand on his shoulder.

The president continued, “Thus it is with tremendous honor and the greatest respect that I present to Major Harper C. Brown the highest honor the National Intelligence community can bestow, the National Intelligence Cross for valor and heroism above and beyond the call of duty.”

As one the crowd rose to its feet as Harper Brown, in her full dress uniform, appeared from backstage and wheeled herself out to the podium. From the chair, she crisply saluted the President. He returned the salute, presented the award, draping it around her neck, and then shook her hand.

They both turned to the audience as the President said, “Major Harper Brown, your National Intelligence Cross award recipient.”

Everyone in the room cheered, with Melvin Mars perhaps the loudest of all.

Brown looked over the crowd, waved, and smiled even as the tears rolled down her cheeks. Then her gaze searched for and found Decker.

She smiled and her eyes crinkled.

He smiled and gave her a salute.

Then she spotted Mars next to him.

She winked.

He grinned.

When she looked away, Decker said, “The doctors think she’ll be back to full strength pretty soon.”

“Thank God for that.”

“Why were you crying before, Melvin?”

“Damn, Decker, we almost lost her. The EMTs told us she’d probably died. But that we brought her back. It was that close.”

“I know. But she’s alive, Melvin. Keep focusing on that.”

He looked over at Jamison, who was still clapping and grinning. He caught her eye and she said, “She looks great, doesn’t she?”

“Never better,” said Decker, grinning.

“And you don’t look bad in a suit and tie,” added Bogart.

Milligan nodded appreciatively. “In fact, you’re starting to look like a real FBI agent, Decker. Maybe we need to start holding you to a dress code.”

Decker’s smile faded and he stopped clapping.

Decker, Mars, and Jamison got out of the car in front of Dominion Hospice. Mars was holding a box.

Jamison said, “We’re going to Harper’s for dinner tomorrow night, don’t forget.”

“Already bought the wine,” said Mars. “And she lost the wheelchair for good. They said she had some temporary weakness because of what happened with the gas. But she’s all fine now.”

“And does that mean you’re moving to the area permanently?” asked Jamison coyly.

“Already got a contract down on a house that, what do you know, is only a couple blocks from her. We can go running together.”

Jamison said, “Hey, I’m in on that.”

“Cool, Alex.”

Mars looked at Decker. “How about you?”

“How about me what?” he groused.

“You want to run with us?”

“Only if you’re chasing a criminal.”

As they walked to the front doors Jamison said, “Hey, Decker, couple of questions.”

He looked at her.

“So I get that Dabney’s work at the FBI gave the bad guys the idea for attacking the FBI. But what was the information exactly?”

“He was working on the building’s infrastructure. To do that he had been given highly classified information about the building’s support structure and that gas line running under it. Plus info on the maze of tunnels under the street and the Hoover Building. That’s what Berkshire’s people really wanted. Bogart found out that they had already leased the building across the street, probably for surveillance purposes on the FBI. But now, with what Dabney had given them, they were able to draw up a new plan and worked around the clock to link up with the utility tunnel and take it under the Hoover Building and then sabotage the gas line. They also found out when the President and other world leaders would be there. They wanted to take them all out — kill eleven thousand people and cripple America’s premier crimefighting agency.”

She nodded, taking this in. “Okay, remember when Walter Dabney told Natalie about the story from Disney World? His riding in the ambulance?”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“Why did he tell her that?”

“Because he’s only human.”

She looked confused. “What?”

“Dabney knew at that point about his wife’s spying. But he was too honorable to tell his kids. He didn’t want them to hate her. But he also knew he was going to shoot Berkshire and kill himself, so he couldn’t resist telling his daughter a story that had him being the one who was there for her, and not her mother.”

They entered the building and started down the hall.

“Any word on what will happen to Mrs. Dabney and her daughter?” asked Mars.

“Even though she voluntarily stopped spying, Ellie Dabney is going to do some serious prison time. Natalie might get off with some sort of probation. They can’t prove she knew anything about the actual espionage.”

They checked in at the front desk and were led back to Joey Scott’s room. The little boy was lying in the bed with his eyes closed.

Their escort, a nurse, gently roused him. When he opened his eyes, she told him about his visitors, then turned and left.

The three of them drew closer to the bed.

“Hey, Joey,” said Mars.

Joey smiled weakly and lifted his hand in a wave before it dropped back to the bed.

“Got something for you.”

He opened the box and pulled out a football. He held it in front of the boy and said, “Look who signed it for you.”

Joey looked at the writing on the ball and his eyes grew large.

“ To my friend Joey, Peyton Manning ,” read Joey.

Decker added, “And he sent a signed picture too.” He held up the framed photo so Joey could see it. “I’m going to put it on your nightstand. You can look at it whenever you want.”

They all drew up chairs and sat next to the bed. Mars placed the ball next to Joey. The little boy put his hand on the pigskin and rubbed the spot where Manning had signed.