Дэвид Балдаччи - Daylight

As he drove away, Blum steeled herself, turned, and walked into the hotel.

A bellman tipped his cap to her as she went in. Blum bypassed the check-in counter when she saw Gorman and Franklin enter the bar lounge set off to one side of the lobby. They were led to their seats by a young woman. When Blum stepped up to the small hostess stand at the entrance to the lounge, another young woman dressed all in black with a name tag that read JULIET approached and asked her if she needed any help. Blum told her that she was meeting someone here but was early and just wanted to get a seat. The young woman led her into the substantial Art Deco — decorated lounge and deposited her at a table with two chairs. Luckily, it had a direct sight line to Franklin and Gorman, who had settled down at a table with high-backed upholstered chairs near the fireplace; the table had a RESERVED sign on it. The hostess helping them picked up the sign and departed.

As Blum pretended to consult her phone, she kept an eye on the pair. Gorman was leading the conversation and speaking energetically, but she could tell his voice was barely above a whisper, because Franklin had to lean in to listen. By her expression, she wasn’t pleased with what she was hearing. Franklin glanced down at the drinks menu on the table and motioned a waitress over. She ordered something, but when the waitress turned to Gorman he waved her off and resumed speaking after the young woman walked away.

Blum positioned her iPhone so it looked as though she was scrolling through screens. But she had actually engaged the video feature and was recording the pair as they continued to talk.

“Ma’am, what are you doing?”

Blum turned and looked at the beefy man with squinty eyes dressed in a suit with a wired comm piece in his ear.

“Excuse me?” said Blum.

“You can’t film guests without their permission.”

Thinking quickly Blum said, “I’m not. I’m filming that fireplace. I want to get one like it for my home.”

“I don’t think so. I’ve been watching you since you came in here. You’ve had your eyes on that couple the whole time.” He gripped her by the arm. “You’ll have to come with me.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you. I don’t even know who you are.”

The man lifted one of his lapels and showed the badge underneath. “Hotel security. And I’m also NYPD, off duty. So you’re coming with me.”

“General?”

They both turned as Robert Puller, in his full-dress uniform, strode up to them.

“General Blum?”

“Yes, Colonel?” said Blum instantly.

“General?” said the bewildered security man.

“Two-star, Air Force,” said Blum, standing up and glowering at the man. “Colonel, this young man seems to think that I was spying on those people over there with my phone instead of taking footage of that beautiful fireplace. I think it will look great with the renovation I’m doing.”

Puller immediately got this. “Absolutely it will. It fits right in with the design theme.” He looked at the man. “We have a flight to catch to DC. General Blum is briefing the Joint Chiefs at the Pentagon late tonight.”

“Jesus,” said the man. With an embarrassed look at Blum he said contritely, “I’m really sorry, General.”

“No need to apologize,” Blum said kindly. “You were just doing your job. Now, if you’ll excuse us.”

“Oh, yes, absolutely.” The man almost bowed.

As they walked out of the hotel Blum said, “Thanks for the assist, but how did you know where I was?”

“So long as you have a smartphone you have no privacy.”

“Right. But why were you looking for me?”

“My brother called and told me you were watching Gorman and Franklin for Atlee. Then he contacted me again. He was worried about you tailing a killer by yourself and asked if I could check on you. I’m glad he did, actually, because I found out some troubling things about Gorman and Franklin. I went to the building where you were supposed to be, but you weren’t there. That’s when I traced you by your phone signal.”

“You could have called.”

“You were on surveillance. I didn’t want to call at an inopportune time for you.”

They turned down a side street and reached a spot where they could speak freely.

Puller said, “So what have you learned?”

“Agent Pine saw Gorman come out of the building where she had gone that night with Lindsey Axilrod. That told her he was in on whatever is happening there. Then he went to Franklin’s congressional office. They were there for hours. He’s head of her security team, Agent Pine found out. She asked me to pick up the surveillance, which I did. They left her office and came to this hotel and were having a very intense conversation in the lounge. He was talking and she was listening, and neither of them seemed happy. I think something big is going down.”

She took out her phone and showed him the video.

“Wish I could read lips,” said Puller.

“Me too.”

“There’s no need for that. I can fill you in.”

They turned to see Gorman standing there, as a black town car slid up to the curb. There were two large and tough-looking men in the front seat. One got out and opened the rear door.

“Get in,” said Gorman, who was now pointing a square-muzzled .45 automatic at them. “Or I’ll shoot you both in the head right here.”

Tony Vincenzo blubbered, “You were going to stick me with that?! I thought you loved me. I thought we were a team.”

“Shut up, Tony.” Axilrod lowered the syringe and stared at Pine.

Pine said, “Haven’t seen you since you killed Sheila Weathers and left me to take the fall for it.”

“I didn’t kill Sheila.”

“If you didn’t kill her, you know who did and probably ordered it. And then you sent some asshole to kill me. Only it didn’t work out that way.”

“She told me before that you killed Sheila,” blurted out Vincenzo.

“She says lots of things, Tony. But when she opens her mouth only lies come out.” She glanced at the syringe. “What’s in it? Morphine?”

“Just a little shot of Vitamin C.” Axilrod looked at Vincenzo. “You would have felt so good, Tony.”

“Put the syringe down, Lindsey.”

Instead, she held up the syringe like a knife. “Make me, you bitch.” She lunged at them.

Pine calmly altered her aim and shot Axilrod in the hand; the bullet passed through skin and bone before becoming lodged in the wall.

Axilrod dropped the syringe and doubled over, screaming in pain. Vincenzo tried to jerk free, but Pine’s iron grip kept him from going anywhere.

“You shot me!” screamed Axilrod.

“You seem to be the only one surprised by that. And trust me, it was all I could do not to aim at your head.”

Pine gave Vincenzo a hard shove, sending him sprawling face-first to the floor. “Stay there,” she barked.

She pushed Axilrod out of the way, gingerly picked up the syringe, carefully wrapped it in toilet paper, and stuck it in the cabinet under the sink. “Whatever is in there, I’ll leave to a biohazard disposal squad to deal with.” She glanced at Axilrod, who was squatting next to the shower, holding her bleeding hand, and quietly sobbing.

Axilrod looked up at Pine through tear-stained eyes. “You have no idea who you’re fucking with.”

Pine tossed her a towel to wrap around the wound and leaned against the sink. “So enlighten me.”

“You wish,” said Axilrod as she tied the towel around her hand.

“How’d it feel feeding fourteen-year-old girls like Jewel Blake to horny old men, Lindsey? You get a kick out of that?”

“What?” said Vincenzo, staring at Axilrod.