by Alan Elsner
“Shit! Must have gotten confused. When do you knock off?”
“Another hour.”
“Hey, why don’t you take off now? I can work your last hour now that I’m here. I’ll even punch you out so you don’t lose money.”
“You sure man?”
Jason indicated Delphine. “Me and my friend here – we both have roommates at home. We can use some privacy.”
The man leered. “Looks like you two have already been rolling around in the grass.”
“Anything happening I should know about before you take off?”
“The old man is with Mitch Webb in his office. Other than that, it’s quiet. Schuyler’s flying to Tokyo tomorrow for business. It’ll be nice and peaceful around here the next few days.”
“Have a great evening then.”
“You too, man. And thanks.”
As soon as he left, Jason was fiddling with the controls of the video surveillance system. Rooms flashed by until he reached the ‘Oval Office.’
The small black-and-white image showed Schuyler sitting behind his fake presidential desk. Mitchell was standing in front of him, talking and gesticulating. Unfortunately, it was a silent movie. Jason adjusted the controls for a close-up.
“This is being recorded?” Delphine asked.
“Yes. And the tapes are all date stamped.”
“Good. That will prove that the first thing Mitchell did after murdering Cooter was come here. That makes Schuyler an accessory after the fact. Let’s make sure you take this tape when we leave.”
As they watched, Schuyler stood up, walked around the desk, opened his arms and slapped Mitchell softly on the back, as if to congratulate him for a job well done.
“You should wait out in the car,” Jason said. “As soon as the next guy arrives to relieve me we’ll get out of here."
Delphine returned to the vehicle and sat for about an hour watching the fireflies, trying not to think about what she’d witnessed. Despite all her experience with death, she’d never actually seen someone die. This was incomparably more ghastly than the sight of Erik Jens’s slashed throat. She’d see that welter of blood exploding from Cooter’s head in her dreams for a long time. She looked at her hands but they were firm and steady. Despite everything, she was still in control of herself.
The few lights on in the upstairs windows of the house went off one by one. In this darkness, Delphine’s ears were unnaturally sensitized. The night was full of sounds: insects, hissing, chirping, buzzing; frogs croaking; a dog howling in the distance and others closer answering its call. Outside the grave, there’s no such thing as silence. Wherever there’s life, there’s noise of some kind, even in the depths of the ocean.
It was intensely humid but Delphine couldn’t run the air conditioning without turning on the engine. A car drove up the driveway, wheels crunching on the gravel – presumably the security guy arriving for his overnight shift. Good, that meant Jason would soon come to get her. She slid down the seat as the guard parked and listened to his footsteps receding. Before she could sit up again, the front door of the car next to her abruptly opened and immediately slammed shut. Delphine froze. A drop of perspiration slid down her nose. The engine ignited and there was the quiet hiss of power windows opening. Then she heard the Cuban rumba of Mitchell’s cell phone ring again.
“Webb … Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry, like I told Mr. Schuyler, no-one saw a thing.”
A lengthy silence.
“You’re right. He was a loose cannon. But now we have another problem. Before I offed him, Cooter told me the name of the so-called FBI agent who came to see him. It was Craig King.”
Delphine stiffened, her heart thumping so loud she could almost hear the blood rushing through her arteries.
“I agree, it had to have been Jason,” Mitchell said. “And get this, there was a woman with him—a small, dark-haired woman who stood there and didn’t open her mouth.”
Mon Dieu, they were compromised.
“That’s what I told Mr. Schuyler … Yes Ma’am … No, I don’t believe in coincidences either.”
Another long gap.
“That’s what Mr. Schuyler thinks too. You spoke to him? OK ... I’ll need a little time to make a plan. … No, I’m not disagreeing with you … Yes, of course, you’re right … I know this isn’t easy for you; it’s not for me either. I liked her too … Yeah, I know you did, like she was your own daughter … Yeah it stinks. … No, if that’s your decision, I can handle it. Just give me a day or two. I want to surprise them … I understand, I’ll make sure to get them both. King’s no problem, he works here … Yeah, I know where she lives; I picked her up there… Don’t worry, I’ll be real careful ... OK, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He snapped his phone shut and the power window slid closed.
It’s a strange experience, hearing one’s own death sentence. But then Delphine heard something even more terrifying – the sound of more footsteps. It had to be Jason. “For God’s sake Mitchell, just drive away,” she prayed. Instead, his car window hummed open again.
“Well lookee here, if it isn’t Jason King,” he called out. “What the golly heck brings you out here at this hour?” His door opened. He was stepping out.
Delphine sat bolt upright, knowing Mitchell would not let slip this chance to kill her lover and she was the only one who could stop it—maybe. Jason was still 10 yards away, indistinct in the dark. Thankfully, he’d stopped walking when he’d heard Webb’s voice. Delphine’s heart slammed against her ribs as she tried to think. If she called out a warning, Mitchell might just turn around and shoot her instead. Her hands scrabbled for something she could use as a weapon and found the clunky video camera lying on the back seat.
“I work here now,” Jason said conversationally. “Hey, it’s going to be a big day for you at the White House Thursday.”
“Not really,” said Mitchell casually. “The Secret Service is handling security. We’re not directly involved, except for guarding Secretary Dayton.” By this time, he’d closed the car door and was walking slowly toward Jason. He obviously meant to get within point blank range to make absolutely sure. Delphine had two or three seconds to act. She thought briefly about the pepper spray in her bag but it was too uncertain and anyway, Mitchell was facing the wrong way. Grabbing the camera, she threw the door open, sprang out and launched herself forward.
“What the …” Webb half-turned but before he could finish the thought she’d swung the camera two-handed with all her strength, catching him on the side of the head, just above the eye. He went down like a ninepin.
“In the car,” Delphine yelled to Jason, who stood frozen with disbelief. “Quickly for Christ’s sake.”
Mitchell groaned and began staggering to his hands and knees. Delphine swung the camera again, aiming to bring it down on his skull but he moved just before impact and she only managed a glancing blow. Still, it was enough to knock him down again.
“He was about to shoot you,” she shouted. “I overheard him on the phone.”
That snapped Jason out of his paralysis and he sprinted to the car. Delphine jumped in the driver’s seat, tossed the camera in back, turned the ignition and accelerated away.
“It was Dayton,” Delphine panted. “She ordered him to kill us both.”
She headed for the electronic gate at the end of the driveway. As they approached, the barrier began slowly rolling shut.
“Oh no,” Delphine muttered. “Hold tight.” She floored the accelerator, then squealed on the brakes when it became clear they wouldn’t make it. A floodlight came on, bathing the scene in a lurid glow, and a uniformed guard appeared brandishing a sub-machine gun. On the other side of the gate lay safety—but they couldn’t get there. Throwing the car into reverse, Delphine swung the wheel violently to one side. The guard hurriedly backed away to avoid being crushed. She steered away from the driveway and, not knowing where else to go,
took off across a field. There was a series of dull thuds like fireworks exploding. A bullet smacked into the wing mirror, shattering the glass.
“Get your head down,” Delphine shouted, killing the headlights and speeding up. They raced blindly into the darkness.
“Jesus, slow down,” Jason yelled, as the vehicle started bucking and bouncing on the uneven ground. Peering through the windscreen, Delphine wrenched the wheel from side to side, barely avoiding a large magnolia. It came to her that they would both die right there, right then. But she felt no fear. She was strangely cool and totally focused.
The shots died away as they moved out of range and she allowed herself to slow down. They crested a hill and she switched the headlights back on to survey their options. Visibility was poor. To the left, Delphine could just about see the outer wall surrounding the property, too high to scale and topped with barbed wire. The other direction led steeply down through thick woods toward the Potomac, from which tendrils of mist rose into the wet air.
“Head for the river?” Delphine asked, as if they had a choice.
Jason nodded. “There’s a dock down there with a couple of boats. They gave me a tour of the estate my first day.”
Delphine steered down the hill, but the terrain was even more treacherous, littered with tree stumps and boulders. She couldn’t help glancing in the rear mirror for signs of pursuit.
“Look where you’re going for Chrissakes,” Jason yelled.
Delphine saw a large shape looming and slammed on the brakes. Too late. As they skidded, she wrestled with the wheel. A second later, they smacked into a tree. A tremendous boom knocked her head back. A split second later, Jason’s air bag deployed with a similar explosive whoosh.
Chapter 21
For a few seconds, neither moved. Delphine had instinctively closed her eyes at the moment of impact; she opened them cautiously. Jason’s hand snaked out, squeezing hard.
“You all right?” he panted, his voice reaching her through half-clogged ears.
Delphine coughed and wiped her eyes. They were both covered in a fine white dust which also coated the inside of their mouths and throats.
“I only look like a ghost; I’m not one. Not yet.” Delphine’s voice sounded abnormally loud inside her head.
“We’ve got to get going.”
“Wait.” Delphine reached for the camera on the back seat and they set off, moving cautiously over wet, spongy ground, zigzagging between trees. They entered the heart of the woods, clambering over fallen logs, pushing branches and creepers out of their faces. Already, her arms and legs were scratched. Jason had a small pen flashlight, such as a doctor would use for peering down throats, but it was of little help; they could see almost nothing. The ground was soft beneath their feet and exuded the rich, moist smell of life, death and new life arising from the old. Somewhere behind, Delphine heard dogs yapping and growling. “How much further?” she gasped.
“Just a bit.”
They burst into the open and there was the Potomac, slow and lazy, gleaming in the moonlight, with steam rising from its shimmering surface. The river was wide at this point; Delphine could barely see the lights of Virginia on the other side.
“Now what?”
A dog barked, closer. “There’s a jetty around here somewhere,” he rasped. “This way … I think.”
“You think?”
They made their way along the river bank for a few paces until the path petered out. Jason stepped into the water and held out his hand.
“Quiet now,” he whispered.
Delphine kicked off her ruined shoes and entered the warm water, letting her toes sink into the riverbed slime. The frenzied barking was definitely getting louder and now she could hear human voices too. Jason took out his gun and slipped off the safety latch. They started wading, waist deep, Delphine holding the camera well above the water. Silently, Jason tapped her shoulder and pointed. She saw a small dock about 20 yards ahead with a large pleasure boat tied to it. Delphine’s heart sank. There was no way they’d get that great big thing launched in time. She glanced back in time to see a man holding a large flashlight stumble out of the woods, tugged forward by a giant mastiff.
“Behind you,” she yelled, as the man let go of the leash and the monster bounded toward them. Jason raised his weapon, grasping it with both hands, but held his fire. Delphine’s vision had shrunk to a narrow tunnel; all she could see were the animal’s gnashing teeth and frothing mouth as it hit the water. What was Jason waiting for? If she’d had the gun, she’d have fired long ago.
Finally, with the beast less than five yards away, Jason squeezed off three shots in quick succession. The brute emitted an unearthly shriek and fell on its side, badly hurt. It tried to stand but slipped back into the river, gurgling for air. Immediately, Jason turned his attention to its handler, sending a burst of fire in his direction. The man dropped his flashlight and hit the ground cursing.
Grabbing Delphine’s hand, Jason turned toward the dock. “Keep that camera dry,” he said, stepping deeper into the river. Delphine thought for a minute he meant them to swim; then she saw a small rubber dinghy tied to the stern of the pleasure boat, bobbing gently in the current. A couple of hundred yards behind them, more flashlights were emerging from the woods. It was going to be close. Delphine tried to go faster but it was like wading through treacle.
They reached the boat. “In you go,” Jason panted, bundling her over the side. Delphine collapsed into a dirty puddle just as a shot zinged across the water, then another and another, kicking up little splashes all around them like the beginning of a hail storm. Delphine knew one hit would pop their craft like a balloon. The poor visibility had become their greatest ally. Jason fiddled with the rope, ignoring the gunfire. Finally he got it undone and hoisted himself in. The dinghy had a small outboard motor. He lowered it and pulled on the starter cord. Nothing happened. A shot hit the water a couple of yards away. He pulled harder; the engine gave an asthmatic wheeze. Delphine had squashed herself down flat. Now, their pursuers let loose a furious barrage. Their luck couldn’t hold much longer. A third sharp tug. The engine coughed like an orator clearing his throat—and rumbled to life. Delphine picked up a paddle—anything to make them go a bit faster – and dipped it into the river, pulling with all her might. The little boat made it to the middle of the river and headed downstream. The dogs yowled in frustration at the water’s edge.
“Where are we going?” Delphine asked, putting the paddle down, her heart still thumping furiously. She could hardly believe they’d escaped and were afloat on this peaceful, glassy surface leaving a lovely, silvery wake behind them. She could have stayed in that boat for a long time, watching the incandescent water, knowing that for the moment at least nothing could hurt them.
“Virginia. I’ll call Craig to fetch us once we get ashore. It’ll take them a while to organize a chase. By then, we’ll be gone.”
Jason steered close to the opposite bank, looking for somewhere to beach the boat where it wouldn’t be seen, and landed at a spot where woods grew almost down to the shore. Together, they dragged the dinghy into the vegetation.
They walked through the trees and found themselves in someone’s backyard. A TV was playing in the living room – Delphine could hear canned game show laughter. It seemed to come from another world entirely. She was unutterably weary, barely able to drag one bare foot in front of the other over the wet grass.
“Just a little further; I need to see where we are,” Jason said, putting one arm under her shoulder to keep her upright.
“I’m fine.”
They emerged in a typical suburban cul-de-sac, all manicured lawns and basketball hoops in the driveways. There were even a couple of people out walking their dogs with little scoopers in their hands to pick up the waste. One gave them a strange look but said nothing. They stopped under a street sign and Jason pulled out his cell phone.
“You know we’re stuck with each other now forever. You saved my life back there,” Jason said, returning the phone to his pocket and putting his arms around her. He smelled of the river – fish, weeds and algae.
“You saved mine.”
They sat on the curb side and Delphine drifted off briefly with her head in his lap. Craig arrived in a van about half an hour later.
“My God, look at you! Get in and tell me what the hell kind of mess you’ve gotten yourselves into,” he said.
Delphine gave him a brief account of events, skipping over how Jason had ‘borrowed’ his badge. The brothers would have to figure that out between themselves later.
“You have a murder on video? Let me see it,” Craig said, pulling off the road. He peered at the screen as it played. “Holy shit,” he muttered.
The scratches on Delphine’s arms and neck stung, her underwear was wet and her scalp itched. She longed for a hot bath and bed, but there was little chance of that.
“We’ve got to get you to the Bureau,” Craig said.
“FBI headquarters?”
“This is serious. My guess is this will go up all the way to the Director, maybe even the Attorney General and the President. Let me call my supervisor first. He’s a good guy. You can trust him.”
“I’m not going to meet your boss looking like this,” Delphine protested. “Let me at least go home to clean up and get a change of clothes. I don’t even have any shoes.”
Craig looked at his brother.
“It’s probably safe,” Jason said. “I doubt they’ll try anything so soon after tonight’s fun and games. There’d be no element of surprise.”
“We’ll take a quick look,” Craig decided. “But be quick. You don’t have time for a shower or anything fancy.”
