They kept going. They passed through the Korean War Memorial and then walked on the sidewalk along the road. At the next crosswalk, they crossed Independence Avenue. They walked through what looked like a crevasse in a huge boulder and then into an open concrete courtyard with a view out to the water. In the center of the courtyard was what looked like the missing piece of the boulder through which they’d just walked, and at the front, facing the water, a statue of Martin Luther King Jr. was carved into the boulder. On the side was etched, “Out of the mountain of despair, a stone of hope.” More quotes were carved into the walls around the courtyard.
At the front of the monument, Kadance turned to look up at the statue. Lyndon did the same and caught a glimpse of the agent quickly veering off to his right, along the wall bordering the courtyard.
When a nearby tourist walked away, leaving them out of earshot of anyone else, Lyndon asked, “So, is the idea to make him doubt himself, that he has the wrong people?”
“Just trying to get into his head.” Then she smiled at a woman walking past. “Excuse me. Would you mind taking our picture?”
“Sure.” The woman reached for the phone Lyndon handed her.
With the statue in the background, Lyndon wrapped an arm around Kadance. She leaned into him and smiled brightly at the camera. He looked down at her beautiful face and forgot to look at the camera.
The woman handed the phone back. “Does that look all right?”
Lyndon looked at the photograph, first at Kadance’s beauty and then at his own image boldly admiring her.
He took the phone out of Kadance’s hand and said to the woman, “Perfect. Thank you so much.”
The woman smiled and walked away.
Kadance looked up at Lyndon, and he thought for a moment she was going to say something about how he looked at her. Perhaps she was angry at him. “He’s watching from behind that garden area.”
There was a large island filled with cherry blossom trees and other landscaping to the side of the concrete courtyard.
He angled himself so that Kadance mostly blocked the agent’s view of Lyndon. “Keep acting like tourists?”
“For a little longer. I always have really wanted to see this place. I hear it’s amazing in the spring when all the trees are blooming.” There were cherry blossom trees along the entire perimeter and in both of the landscape islands.
“I’m glad you get to see something you wanted to.” He looked out toward the water. He guessed she didn’t let herself do much of anything she wanted.
“Please don’t,” she murmured.
“Don’t what?”
“Be so . . .” She looked away. “So freaking nice. All the time.”
“I’m polite, but I’m certainly not nice all the time.” In his regular life, he barely spoke to people. He rarely even smiled at people.
She turned and started walking toward the landscape island on the other side of the statue, opposite side of the courtyard from the agent. “You could be making insane amounts of money, have fancy houses and cars, anything you want, but instead, you devote all your time to research.”
“That’s being obsessive, not nice.”
“That’s being selfless.”
His tone hardened. “I’m not selfless.”
She smirked. “Being humble is part of being nice.”
“I’m not being humble.” He’d thought she understood. “God tells me to be kind, smile at people, make their day a little nicer, but I don’t. I’m polite, and that’s it. Sometimes not even that.”
She stopped walking. “What do you mean God tells you?”
He took a couple more steps, but then stopped and turned. His gaze skimmed the area to make sure the agent wasn’t in earshot.
“God talks to you?” She looked like she was concerned for his sanity.
“For me, it’s probably different. I’m too much in my head. I don’t really get gut feelings, but I notice things that other people don’t—maybe specific numbers from my research show up in an address number, or I see the numerical equivalent of my name in a serial number.” That was why he’d chosen that specific storage unit auction that day—the unit numbers being auctioned aligned with structural proteins encoded by the EBOV genome. “For you, you get feelings about things, right?”
“Yeah. That’s instinct.”
“You ever get a feeling that doesn’t really make sense, not related to anything, not connected to your training, just a random feeling?”
She didn’t answer.
“Maybe during your work overseas?” He moved closer and spoke more quietly so no one around would hear, but surely their expressions made them look like they were arguing. “When you were alone and relying on yourself only. No support team feeding you intelligence. Just you.”
She was quiet, which told him she knew exactly what he was talking about.
“That was God,” he said.
“That’s a leap of logic.”
He raised an eyebrow. “A random feeling not derived from anything in your environment or in your experience or training. Where else could it have logically come from? Thin air?”
She held eye contact but didn’t respond.
“Based on everything you’ve been through, that you’ve survived, you’ve probably listened to those feelings. You felt a nudge to leave a place, not to trust a certain person, not to go out at a certain time—and you listened. Right?”
Her voice barely made sound. “Yes.”
“Good. Keep listening.” He turned and continued walking.
She stayed there.
He walked out of the courtyard and along the sidewalk bordering Independence Avenue. Kadance didn’t follow.
He paused at the crosswalk just before Kutz Bridge and looked to the left, toward the east-traveling traffic. The agent was there, several feet behind a woman walking down the sidewalk.
Lyndon crossed at the crosswalk and continued along the sidewalk bordering the westbound lanes of Independence Avenue. He didn’t glance behind him. He wanted the agent to think he had no idea he was there, that he was distracted from his argument with Kadance. Honestly, he was.
He made his way to the World War II Memorial. Up the steps, American and POW/MIA flags flanked the entrance, and the towering Washington Memorial stood guard behind him. There was a huge fountain surrounded by concrete, and the outer wall included fifty-six columns, each representing a 1945 state or territory. He’d read all about these monuments and various aspects of DC, but seeing them was something else entirely.
He wanted Kadance to see this, to enjoy it.
He meandered around the fountain, up the ramp, while reading each column, and he stopped in the Atlantic archway that overlooked the fountain. He stood there for a while enjoying the view of the monument. Or trying to.
And he hoped he was driving the agent nuts.
Finally, he turned and walked the back way out of the archway and out of the monument onto a path that nestled itself into trees. He listened carefully for footsteps to follow him. As he turned right toward more trees, he caught the sound of footsteps a few yards behind him.
He passed the turn that would take him between the reflecting pool and the back of the World War II Memorial and continued through the trees.
He didn’t let himself look around in expectation.
Finally, no other people were around. The footsteps grew steadily closer.
When the footsteps sounded like they were just a few feet away, Lyndon spun around. “Hello. Agent . . . ? I didn’t catch your name.”
The man stopped dead. His unbuttoned trench flapped at his legs.
Kadance appeared like a specter from behind a tree. She walked behind the agent and picked his pocket before he could even turn to look at her. He glanced to the left and then twisted to the right as Kadance came around that side.
She had his wallet open. “Matthew Brown. Not a very imaginative name.” She tossed his wallet back to him, and he fumbled catching it.
She continued walking around the man. “So, how can we help you, Agent Brown?”
thirty-one
MAC RUBBED AGAINST Lyndon’s legs. He was ready to snatch him up if this went sideways.
“Do you know how to talk?” Kadance walked around the agent.
He twisted to look at her.
She stopped in front of him.
Finally, Agent Brown said, “I’m bringing you both in for questioning.”
“I don’t think so,” she said.
“I’m an FBI ag—”
“You’re not working for the FBI right now.”
“Do you need to see my badge?”
“I didn’t say you’re not an FBI agent. I’m saying that’s not who you’re working for at this particular moment. If that were the case, you wouldn’t be following an innocent, law-abiding citizen like Dr. Vaile.”
He lifted his chin and straightened his back. “Who are you, anyway?”
“Haven’t you heard? I’m Dr. Vaile’s guardian angel.”
He sneered.
“What?” she said. “You don’t believe in guardian angels?”
He hesitated, but then his anger apparently got the better of him. “He doesn’t deserve it. If such a thing existed.”
“Whether or not they exist is another debate. But Dr. Vaile most certainly deserves an angel.”
Lyndon didn’t know what to make of her. He wanted to ask her where she was going with this, but he remained quiet and let her handle the agent—also ready to attack if the agent even considered laying a hand on her.
“I’m more of a fallen angel,” she added. “But you get the point.” She resumed slowly walking around him. “Why in the world would you think Dr. Vaile doesn’t deserve a guardian?”
Brown had to twist around to look at her.
Lyndon kept waiting for him to lose patience, try to grab her, or pull his weapon.
As Kadance walked behind Agent Brown, the agent focused on Lyndon. Lyndon met his gaze straight on.
Kadance paused next to the agent.
Finally, the agent, still staring at Lyndon, murmured in a low and deadly voice, “I don’t know why she hasn’t eliminated you yet.”
“She’s tried,” Kadance said. “And failed.”
“If she wanted him dead, he’d be dead.”
“So that begs the question,” Kadance said. “Why do you think she’s failed to kill him? Maybe she’s not as smart as you think.”
“She hasn’t failed. She’s given the order he’s not to be eliminated.”
“Must be more recent orders,” Kadance said.
“Why is that?” Lyndon asked. “Why am I not to be eliminated?” Was it simply because she valued his intelligence?
Agent Brown pressed his lips together.
“He doesn’t know,” Kadance said. “He’s a peon.”
“Why are you following us?” Lyndon asked.
Agent Brown crossed his arms.
“Do you not know what’s going on?” Lyndon asked.
Agent Brown shifted, but Kadance shifted as well. He stopped and looked at her. She had an intense look in her eyes that clearly showed what she was capable of. Agent Brown stayed put and refocused on Lyndon.
Sometimes Lyndon didn’t understand why people got so touchy when he asked simple questions. “I would go ahead and answer my question if I were you.”
“Maybe he’s backup in case we avoid cameras,” Kadance said. “I don’t think he was supposed to make contact with us.” She watched Agent Brown closely and smirked. “Thought so.”
Lyndon quickly ran through the possibilities in his head. “Are you trying to make a name for yourself?” Lyndon asked Agent Brown.
Kadance, still watching Agent Brown closely, nodded and shifted her stance to face him more directly. “That’s it. What, you thought your fantastic mastermind needed help?”
“She doesn’t need anything.”
“She must want something from me,” Lyndon said. “Or else I wouldn’t still be alive, correct?”
Agent Brown sneered.
“It’s a rational question,” Lyndon said. “Why’re you so angry?”
Kadance glanced over at him with amusement in her eyes. She wiped the amusement away as she turned back to Agent Brown.
Lyndon asked, “Did she personally give you the vaccination shot, or did someone else?”
“What’re you—”
“You have a faint bruise on your arm. She offered you a vaccination for the disease she’s about to release. Did she give that to you?”
He lifted his chin.
“That’s a no,” Kadance said. “He’s never even seen her.”
Agent Brown sneered.
“I’m assuming she sent you the vaccine in the mail,” Lyndon said. “Last question: Why did she give you the vaccine? What are you supposed to do in return?”
No answer.
“Okay. Let’s play musical expressions.” Lyndon glanced at Kadance, and she nodded infinitesimally.
“You’re going to be stationed at Congress and are supposed to facilitate entry in some way.”
Kadance, still closely watching Agent Brown, gave a slight shake of her head.
“Your role is to provide misinformation.”
Kadance shook her head.
“You’re to slow the response time once the attack happens and do whatever you can to fumble the coordination of efforts.”
Kadance tilted her head the slightest degree, and then nodded.
Agent Brown’s eyes widened slightly. He glanced at Kadance then quickly away. Then he turned and bolted.
Lyndon considered going after him but then decided against it.
“She’s really good at propaganda,” Kadance said.
He nodded. “I wonder how many more like him she has.” Then he asked, “Do you think he’ll try to keep following us?”
“He’s pretty terrified at the moment. He’s probably worried she’s going to kill him for making contact with us and for leaking information.”
“So, he might not even tell her what we’ve learned.”
“Good possibility.”
Mac meowed up at Kadance.
“Stay close to me,” Kadance said to him and motioned toward the area directly around them.
Mac bounded off. Kadance watched him for a few seconds, surely to make sure he stayed close.
She turned back to Lyndon. “So, why doesn’t she want you eliminated?”
“She obviously wanted me out of the picture pretty badly before. It had seemed fairly obvious that she wanted me dead because I had figured out her secret.”
“And she hasn’t simply stopped trying to kill you. She gave the order not to kill you.”
“I’m not finding a rational line of thought that would fit the sequence of events.”
She looked over at Mac, who had climbed halfway up a tree. “Me either.”
“There must be some other variable.”
She turned back to Lyndon. “But what?”
He sighed. “I don’t know.” He turned, walked a few feet away, and rubbed his temples.
KADANCE WATCHED LYNDON stand there thinking.
A few minutes passed.
She walked over and stood next to Lyndon. He was looking out over the grass and trees, but she knew he wasn’t really registering any of it. She could almost see the thoughts and hypotheses flashing across his eyes, each thought analyzed and either thrown out or filed. He’d figure it all out, everything. She knew that with perfect certainty.
“I don’t . . . ,” she started, but stopped.
Lyndon looked at her. He’d paused his thoughts and was focused on her.
She let herself ask the question. “How could you feel so strongly?”
“You mean why do I love you.”
She gave no response.
He hesitated but then leaned closer, just a few inches from her ear. “Because I see the light in you.”
He walked away, toward Mac.
Mac ran ar
ound Lyndon, playing, and Lyndon chased him. Finally, Mac skidded to a stop and lay down. “That’s it?” Lyndon asked. “That’s all you have?”
Mac meowed up at him, and Lyndon smiled, though the smile strained a bit with pain.
“We should create a disturbance,” Kadance said.
Lyndon looked over at her. “What kind of disturbance?”
She appreciated how he let her change the direction of their discussion. “At the Capitol,” she said.
“Something big enough might delay or move the State of the Union.”
“Exactly.”
“There are too many cameras. I don’t see how we can pull it off. She’ll be tracking our every move.” Then he said, “Unless we can find a way to break her connection or maybe turn off her facial recognition software.”
“Can you hack in somehow?”
“I might. It depends on how sophisticated it is. But I’ll need access.”
She called Mac, and he jumped up and trotted over.
“We should get going.” She headed in the direction where they’d parked. Lyndon stayed by her side.
“Where should we go?” she asked him.
“We should try a digital sign. She’s obviously tapped in to at least some of them. There should be a computer connected to the sign somewhere. That’ll give me an interface to work from.”
“Where would the computer be?”
“Probably in a utility room close by. I assume it would be locked.”
“I can take care of that.”
He nodded. “I figured.”
They moved quickly and were back in the car a few minutes later. Kadance drove, and Lyndon watched out the window.
Lyndon pointed to an indoor sports complex. High up on the building was a huge digital board, and below, just above the entrance, was another digital board, long but squat. There was parking along the road, so Kadance swooped into an open spot.
They walked inside. Based on all the signs and banners, this was where the Wizards basketball team played. They walked through the main hall, passing several shops and small restaurants. She looked for anything that might be a service or utility room. Non-public areas weren’t as well marked, of course, so they tried a few rooms. Lyndon kept watch while she picked the locks.
After a few tries, they found the room Lyndon was looking for. She, Lyndon, and Mac squeezed inside the small space draped with wires and electrical equipment, and she closed the door. Lyndon stood at the terminal and started typing.
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