Patterson, James - Alex Cross 3 - Jack and Jill

“This is home base,” a female agent's voice came onto the line immediately

“Jill is nice and comfy up on the third floor of Crown. She's reading Barbara Bush on Barbara Bush. She's in her jammies. Not to worry about Jill.”

“We're absolutely sure about that?”

“Home base is sure about Jill. Jill's in bed. Jill is being a good girl, for tonight anyway”

“Good for Jill. How the hell did Jack get out?”

“He used that old tunnel between the basement of Crown and the Treasury Building. That's how he got out!”

This is an alert.

This is not a drill.

Jack is on the move.

"Jack is approaching Pennsylvania Avenue now. He's near the Willard Hotel. He just glanced back over his shoulder. Jack's paranoid, as well he should be. I don't think he saw us. Oh, shit, somebody just flashed their high beams in front of the Willard.

A vehicle is pulling out -- and pulling up alongside Jack! RedJeep!

Jack is getting inside the fucking redJeep."

“Roger. So much for having Jack in our damn crosshairs. We'll follow him pronto. Virginia plates on the Jeep. License number two-three-one HCY. Koons dealer sticker. Start a te -- crazy?”

“We have full visual contact with Jack. Where the hell is he going? Goddamn him. What's going on?”

The six watchers comprised three highly professional teams.

They were all first-teamers, among the best and brightest of more than two thousand Secret Service agents working around the world. They sat inside dark-colored Ford sedans parked on Fifteenth Street Northwest. This was getting very serious, and very scary, in a hurry.

This is a real alert.

This is not a drill.

"Jack is definitely leaving Crown now. It's twenty-three forty.

At this moment, we have Jack in our crosshairs," one of the agents spoke into the car mike.

“Yeah. Jack can be a real tricky fellow, though. He's proven it before. Keep him right in your sights. Where's the lovely Jill, home base?”

“This is home base,” a female agent's voice came onto the line immediately

“Jill is nice and comfy up on the third floor of Crown. She's reading Barbara Bush on Barbara Bush. She's in her jammies. Not to worry about Jill.”

“We're absolutely sure about that?”

“Home base is sure about Jill. Jill's in bed. Jill is being a good girl, for tonight anyway”

“Good for Jill. How the hell did Jack get out?”

“He used that old tunnel between the basement of Crown and the Treasury Building. That's how he got out!”

This is an alert.

This is not a drill.

Jack is on the move.

"Jack is approaching Pennsylvania Avenue now. He's near the Willard Hotel. He just glanced back over his shoulder. Jack's paranoid, as well he should be. I don't think he saw us. Oh, shit, somebody just flashed their high beams in front of the Willard.

A vehicle is pulling out -- and pulling up alongside Jack! RedJeep!

Jack is getting inside the fucking redJeep."

“Roger. So much for having Jack in our damn crosshairs. We'll follow him pronto. Virginia plates on the Jeep. License number two-three-one HCY. Koons dealer sticker. Start a trace on the Jeep, now.”

“We're following the red Jeep. We're on Jack's ass. Full alert for the Jackal. Repeat: full alert for the Jackal. This is not a drill!”

“Do not lose Jack tonight of all nights. Do not lose Jack under any circumstances.”

“Roger. We have Jack in plain sight.”

Three dark sedans took off in hot pursuit of the Jeep. Jack was the Secret Service's code name for President Thomas Byrnes.

Jill was the code name for the First Lady. Crown had been the Service's code word for the White House for nearly twenty years.

Most of the current-duty agents genuinely liked President Byrnes. He was a down-to-earth guy, a very regular person as recent presidents went. Not too much bullshit about him. Occasionally, though, the President took off on an unannounced date with some lady friend, either in D.C. or on the road. The Secret Service referred to this as “the president's disease.” Thomas Byrnes was hardly the first to suffer from this malady. John Kennedy, Franklin Delano Roosevelt, and especially Lyndon Johnson had been the worst offenders. It seemed to be a perk of high office.

The coincidence of the names chosen by the two psychopathic killers in D.C., the so-called celebrity stalkers, wasn't lost on the Secret Service. The Secret Service didn't believe in coincidences. They had already met four times on the matter -- long, difficult meetings in the Emergency Command Center in the West Wing basement of the White House. The name for any would-be assassins of the president was Jackal.

Jackal had been used by the Secret Service for more than thirty years.

The “coincidence” of the names worried the PPD, the Presidential Protection Division, a great deal- especially.when President Byrnes decided to go out on one of his unannounced walks, which for obvious reasons didn't include any of his bodyguards.

There were two Jacks and two Jills.

The Secret Service did not, could not, accept this as a coincidence.

“We've lost the red Jeep around the Tidal Basin. We've lost Jack,” an agent's voice suddenly exploded over the car-radio speakers.

Everything was chaos. Full-alert chaos.

This was not a test.

Alex Cross 3 - Jack and Jill

PART 2

DRAGONSLAYER

ON MONDAY NIGHT something.finally broke on Jack and Jill.

It was something potentially big. I hoped it wasn't a hoax.

I'd just gotten home to try and catch a bite of dinner with the kids when the phone rang. It was Kyle Craig. He told me a videotaped message, reportedly from Jack and Jill, had been delivered to the CNN studios. The killers had made a home movie for the world to see. Jack and Jill had also sent cover letters to the Washington Post and the New York Times. They were planning to “explain” themselves that night.

I had to rush out before Nana's roast chicken hit the supper table. Jannie and Damon gave me their not-again looks. They were right to think that way.

I hurried to the Union Station section of Washington, around H and North Capitol. I didn't want to be late for the party that Jack andJillwere throwing. This was another example of the two of them demonstrating their control over us.

I arrived at CNN headquarters just in time for the screening and only moments before the video was to be aired on Larry King Live. Senior agents from the FBI and Secret Service were crowded into a low-key, cozy CNN viewing room. So were various techies, administrators, and lawyers from the news network. Everybody looked incredibly tense and uptight.

The room was completely silent as the filmed message from Jack and Jill began. I was afraid to blink. We all were.

“You believe this shit?” somebody finally muttered.

Jack and Jill had been filming us! That was the first shock of the night. They had actually filmed the police outside Senator Fitzpatrick's apartment building a few days earlier. They had been right there in the crowd of onlookers, the ambulance-chasers.

The film was a jarring, documentary-style collage of black and white, with some color. The opening shots were from several angles outside Senator Fitzpatrick's building. It was like a well-made student film, but a little artsy. Then something even more unexpected and powerful came on the screen.

The murderers had filmed the last moments of Senator Fitzpatrick's life, seconds before his murder, I guessed. There were haunting shots of the senator alive. It got worse from there.

We saw graphic shots of Daniel Fitzpatrick, naked, handcuffed to his bed. We heard his voice. “Please don't do this,” he pleaded with his captors. Then we heard the click of a trigger.