Дэвид Балдаччи - Hell's Corner

“The last thing I need is for my partner to be taken from me because she got busted for drunk driving.”

“Well then let me take the chair.”

He pointed to his cot and said, “Go.” He gave her a shove in the back.

Looking bemused, Chapman slipped off her heels, padded to the cot and drew the privacy blanket closed.

The next morning Chapman slowly woke, turned to the side, fell off the cot and hit the floor hard.

“Bloody hell!”

She rubbed her head.

She glanced up to see Stone standing in front of her holding two cups of coffee.

“Good morning,” he said pleasantly.

She sat on the cot and took the offered coffee. She winced and rubbed her head as she drank some.

“My head feels quite ready to burst.”

He said, “Four mojitos, two vodka tonics and a glass of port. And that’s just what I saw. I’m stunned you still have a head left.”

“I told you I could hold my liquor.”

“Why don’t you shower and then we can grab some breakfast.”

“Wonderful. I’m famished. I know a nice restaurant.”

“I know a better one.”

“I’ll be ready in ten minutes.”

Forty minutes later they were in downtown D.C. and in line with a group of construction workers ordering breakfast at a food truck a few blocks from the Capitol. They carried their egg sandwiches and hash browns over to Chapman’s car and sat on the hood hungrily eating their meal.

Her mouth full of scrambled eggs, Chapman moaned. “God, this is good.”

“It’s the lard, I think,” said Stone, munching on a hash brown. “And the fact that they never wash their frying pan.”

Finished, they climbed in Chapman’s ride and drove off.

“Where to?”

“The park.”

“Hell’s Corner. It’s living up to its name.”

“I wonder how NIC is doing this morning.”

“Based on what happened last night, probably not great.” She skimmed her fingers across the steering wheel. “Look, I know what you did last night. You effectively blocked Weaver from taking action against me for telling you about my other mission. It was neatly done.”

“I’ve been in this business long enough to know how it really operates. I needed him to back off, but he has lots of assets. So I also need his help and focus.”

“How much do you intend on telling him? I mean about what you’ve figured out?”

“A lot. Again, he has resources we don’t. And the primary objective is the same for us both. To prevent whatever is coming.”

“You think it really is in the planning stages?”

“It’s past the planning stage. Now it’s in the execution stage.”

“And the Russians? Pretty formidable foes.”

“Yes.”

“I’ve had a few run-ins with them. They can get pretty nasty.”

Stone said nothing.

“You spent time in Russia. At least that’s what your file says.”

“I did.”

“Cold War era?”

“Yes.”

“How was it?”

“It was what it was.”

“Was your mission successful?”

“I came back alive, so I’d say yes, it was.”

She drove on.

Twenty minutes later Stone and she were standing in the office building from where they’d deduced the guns had been fired. He opened one of the windows.

“What are we looking for?” she asked. “This building has the height to give it a direct sightline to the park. But we’d already established that.”

“I know. But I think there’s something else.”

“Like what?”

“If I knew that I wouldn’t be here looking out the window.”

He continued to gaze down at the park and then onward, south to the White House. There was something in the depths of his mind that he knew was important, but he couldn’t recall it. He had seen it, he was sure of that. In fact he had seen it in the park. But it wouldn’t come. He’d racked his brain all morning, but that focus had only served to bury the potential answer even more deeply.

Chapman leaned against the window and stared at him.

“It’s hurting my brain watching your brain burn itself out.”

“Let’s go. I need to check the message board at Georgetown University.”

“You into social networking with college students?”

“No. My target is a little older.”

“Anything interesting?” Chapman asked as she watched Stone gazing over the message board. His eyes focused on one piece of paper set about two inches from where he’d put his message the night before. He read over it, quickly translating the coded response.

“Yes. Let’s go.”

The trip was short and they soon arrived at the apartment located over a dry cleaner’s. Adelphia answered their knock and motioned them in. They sat down. Stone slowly looked around. “I didn’t know you had moved back in here.”

“I haven’t,” said Adelphia. She had on a long skirt, a white tunic and a string of green beads. Her black-and-silver hair was pulled together at the nape of her neck. “This is just temporary.” She paused. “I was surprised to see your note.”

“I’m glad to see that the little code we came up with is still effective.”

“What can I do for you?” she prompted.

“How is Fuat Turkekul?”

“Is that why you came here? To get information about him?”

“Is that a problem?”

“I know you are having him followed. That could be very dangerous for Fuat.”

“The shots in the park came from a government office building. How dangerous do you think that is?”

Adelphia sat back, her features inscrutable to a stranger like Chapman. But Stone could tell she was both intrigued and concerned.

“You have confirmed this?”

“To my satisfaction, yes.”

“And why tell me? I am not part of the investigation. My mission has to do with Fuat, nothing more.”

“What if one is connected to the other?”

“I do not think that likely.”

Chapman, who had been sitting there silently, blurted out, “But can you just dismiss it like that? You have to account for the possibility. Otherwise you’re not doing your bloody job.”

Adelphia didn’t bother to look at her. “I didn’t expect you to partner with such a nervous person, Oliver.”

“ Do you discount the possibility?” he asked. “To such a degree that you won’t prepare for it?”

Adelphia hunched forward. “Fuat is prepared for anything.”

“He eats, he teaches classes, he reads. I suppose somewhere in there he works on finding bin Laden, even if he is seven thousand miles away.”

“As you were told, the plans are in the preliminary stage.”

“Very preliminary. Ever since my colleague has been following him he’s done very little prepping.”

“It is not always obvious.”

“It is somewhat obvious, Adelphia. To the trained eye.”

“What exactly are you saying?”

“That what I was told about Fuat may not be true.”

“In what way?”

“That he’s not actually going after Osama bin Laden.”

Adelphia sat back. Stone noted that the fingers of her left hand twitched a bit.

He continued, “It’s logical, isn’t it? To throw me off stride you tell me Fuat is going after the most sought-after terrorist since Hitler. You probably counted on the fact that the name alone would preclude the need for further explanation.”

Chapman said, “You mean he’s not going after bin Laden?”

Stone kept his gaze on Adelphia. “Well?”

She rose and strode over to the window and looked out.

“There’s no one out there,” he said. “At least no one connected to me. But maybe that’s not what you’re concerned about.”

She turned back to him. “This is not something you want to become involved in, Oliver. It really isn’t. I say this to you as an old friend.”