happen before. Sam was a good man but strictly a desk jockey. Finn had never liked taking inexperienced folks with him on these outings, and had voiced that opinion several times. Maybe now they would listen to him.
He drove home and later took Patrick to baseball practice, silently watching his athletic middle child field all balls hit his way and later mercilessly pound the automated pitches in the batting cage. Finn didn’t say much on the way home, letting an animated Patrick talk about his day at school. Over dinner that night, Susie recited her lines from the upcoming play—although it didn’t appear that trees were given much to say, a fact her two older brothers ribbed her about. She took the kidding well before finally telling them both, “Stuff it, dorks.” That comment drew a warning from Mandy, who’d had her hands full lately with the three because Finn had been so buried at work.
David said, “Hey, Pop, you coming to the soccer match on Friday afternoon? Coach is gonna let me play goalie.”
Finn said absently, “I’ll try, son. I might be tied up.” He had to go visit his mother. His wife would not be happy about that.
Mandy gave David some pocket money for when his class went downtown on their field trip the next morning. She took a small bite of food and looked over at her husband, who was obviously not mentally with them.
“Harry, you okay?”
He stirred. “Just some stuff at work.” There had been no news coverage of the incident, even though the police had been called, because Homeland Security had stepped in to put the kibosh on it. Having Finn exposed in the press would put a severe crimp in the red cell contract work that his company did for Homeland Security, work that was critically important to national security. With DHS in Finn’s corner, the local cops had quickly rolled over. The young security guard had not been charged with anything other than being stupid and undertrained, and his gun had been taken away. He had been reassigned to a desk job and told that if he said anything to anyone about what had happened he would regret it for the rest of his life.
After dinner he drove to the hospital to see Sam. He was in the ICU after surgery, but his condition had stabilized. He was on heavy meds and didn’t even know Finn was there. His parents had been flown in from New York that afternoon and were in the ICU waiting area. Finn sat with them for an hour, explaining the situation and downplaying Sam’s complicity in getting shot by stupidly running away from a nervous kid with a big gun.
He left the hospital and drove around for a while with the all-news radio station on. He finally turned it off after bad news became awful news and then moved on directly to terrible. What a world they were leaving for the next generation.
He headed downtown, because he didn’t want to go home to the Virginia suburbs just yet. He could tell from the expression on Mandy’s face at dinner that she wanted to talk about things, but he really didn’t want to. He didn’t know how he was going to break the news of having to visit his mother again. With the kids’ busy schedule, his being gone really left his wife scrambling. And yet he had to do it, particularly after the John Carr revelation.
He crossed over the Theodore Roosevelt Bridge, passing the island named after the very same president. He kept straight and headed down Constitution Avenue, arguably the capital’s second most famous street behind the one named Pennsylvania. Hooking left, he headed up toward the White House before turning right onto F Street and working his way through a congested shopping and business district that was crawling with renewed nightlife. To his right stood the concrete-and-steel skeleton of an uncompleted building whose developer had gone bankrupt. As Finn waited at a red light he stared up at the new residential condo building on his left. His gaze went up seven stories, drifted to the corner unit of the luxury high-rise, and that’s when he stiffened slightly. He had not come here by accident. The drive-by was completely intentional; he did it often.
The lights were on and as he watched a tall figure passed by one of the windows.
Senator Roger Simpson from the great state of Alabama was home.
CHAPTER 68
ANNABELLE STOOD NEXT TO PADDY who was slumped in a chair in her hotel room. Daughter nodded at father and on cue he picked up the phone.
Before he punched in the number, she put a hand on Paddy’s shoulder.
“You sure you’re ready for this?” she asked.
“I’ve been ready for this for years,” he gamely replied, his voice cracking a bit.
He didn’t look ready, she thought. The man seemed tired and scared.
“Good luck,” Annabelle said.
As soon as the number was placed, Annabelle picked up another phone and listened in.
“Hello, Jerry,” Paddy said. “It’s Paddy Conroy. Long time no kill. But then again, maybe that’s not entirely accurate. Hear you’ve been busy on that score.”
Annabelle stared at her father. Paddy’s entire manner had changed. His smile was wide, and his voice was confident. He was sitting up big and fearless in the chair.
Bagger was not a man easily shocked. But when he had heard that name, he felt his knees slightly buckle. The next emotion he had was far more familiar. He nearly crushed the phone in his hand and screamed, “How the hell did you know how to reach me, you bastard?”
“I just looked in the phone book under A for assholes.”
On that remark, Annabelle had to stifle a laugh.
“Seen that bitch of a daughter of yours lately?”
“Heard she ripped you for plenty. Enough to get the wind up at the Jersey Control Commission. I must’ve taught her good.”
“Yeah, maybe you’re behind the whole thing. And if you are, all I can promise you is a skin peel that takes about two days.”
“Stop talking dirty, Jerry, you’re getting me horny.”
“What do you want!”
“I want to help you out.”
“I don’t need help from a two-bit, washed-up con.”
“Don’t be so quick on the draw, Jer. The definition of help is when I have something you want. And I do.”
“Like what?”
“Care to guess?”
“Care to have me rip your balls off?”
“I have Annabelle. You still want her or you gotten over her making you look like the world’s biggest idiot?”
“You’d turn over your own daughter to me, knowing what I’m going to do to her?”
“Not going deaf on me, are you? That’s what I said.”
“And you’re doing this out of what, the goodness of your heart?”
“You know me better than that, Jerry.”
“So how much do you want for your little girl?”
“Not a dime.”
“Excuse me?” Bagger said in disbelief.
“I don’t need any more money.”
“So what then?”
“You have to promise me that if I give Annabelle to you, you’ll never come after me again. I got a little time left on this planet and I don’t want to spend it looking over my shoulder for the likes of you.”
“Let me get this straight. You’ll give me Annabelle so long as I leave you alone?”
“That’s right. I know you’ve been on the lookout for me ever since I ripped you off for that lousy ten grand. And I’m getting tired of it.”
Bagger screamed into the phone, “You’re getting tired of it?”
“Is it a deal? And I want your word. Because I know you’re a lot of things, but you’ve never gone back on your word. You get Annabelle and you leave me alone, forever.”
Bagger stared down at the floor, the veins throbbing in his neck.
“I want to hear you say it, Jerry. I have to hear you say it.”
“I’ll pay you millions for her.”
“Yeah, sure. Say it, Jerry. Say it or no deal.”
Paddy stared over at Annabelle, who was holding her breath as she clutched the phone.
“Why do you hate her so much?” Bagger finally said.
“Because she’s blamed me all these year
s for what happened to her mum. You killed the woman but I’ve paid the price. Ain’t been one bloke in the whole con world who’d give me the time of day since. She ruined my life. It’s payback time. My payback time.” Paddy glanced over at Annabelle and smiled weakly.
“How are you going to set her up? She’s not stupid. So I know she doesn’t trust you.”
“Leave that to me.”
“I haven’t agreed to nothing.”
“But you will. You’re too smart not to.”
“I can just catch her myself. I came close the other night. And maybe you too if I get real lucky.”
“Then go for it. And two weeks from now when you realize she’s long gone, you can’t say old Paddy didn’t tell you the truth. Because the longer you wait, the more time she has to hide, and we both know the girl is good at what she does. Take your time, think about it. I’ll call you back.”
“When?”
“When I want to.”
In one motion, Paddy and Annabelle put down their phones.
She gripped his shoulder. “You did great. You baited him just right.”
He put his hand on top of hers. “We’ll give him a little time to stew on that. That’ll give your friend some time to get his end in gear. I have to say, I was surprised he agreed to help us, no questions asked.”
“Like I told you, he’s not your typical fed. One thing.” She paused, worried. Was her father really not up to this? “You didn’t poke around about where Jerry might be staying.”
He looked at her, a smile playing across his lips. “I’m not losing my touch, Annie, if that’s what you’re thinking. You don’t push too hard on the first go-round. Old pro like Jerry will sniff that out every time. Next call, I’ll let him make the slip. Then I’ll hit it.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean you didn’t know what you were doing.”
“Ninety percent of the con is preparation. The other ten percent is seat of the pants, being able to adapt on the fly.”
“But without the ten the ninety is worth shit.”
“Exactly.”
“That stuff you said to Bagger. About my ruining your life?”
“I ruined my own life, Annie. All I’m doing now is trying to get a little piece of it back.”
He gripped his daughter’s hand tightly. He now looked old, sick and scared; his body collapsed into the chair again. “You really think we can pull this off?”
“Yes,” she lied.
CHAPTER 69
DRESSED IN THE OUTFIT of a Capitol Grounds maintenance crewman, Harry Finn stood outside the Hart Senate Office Building with the remote detonator in his hand. He stared up the façade of the building until his gaze came to Simpson’s office. In his other hand was a small device that looked like an iPod. Actually, it was the receiving unit for the wireless pin video camera he’d hidden in Simpson’s office. The images on the small screen were razor-sharp. Simpson was meeting with several of his staff, no doubt reporting back on his vital “fact-finding” mission to the Caribbean.
Finn was waiting until Simpson was alone in his office, for only Simpson was going to die today. He tensed as the staff people rose and left. He then watched as Simpson checked his hair and face in the mirror on one wall, adjusted his tie, walked to his desk and sat down.
The end had finally come. Finn’s finger was poised over his BlackBerry. He would send the e-mail first. He would be able to tell from Simpson’s reaction on the screen that he had seen the photo of Rayfield Solomon, right before he died.
Finn’s thumb descended on the BlackBerry key. Good-bye, Roger.
“Hey, Dad!”
Finn glanced up, recognizing the voice. “Damn it,” he breathed.
David Finn came running up to him, smiling. “What are you doing here?”
Finn quickly slipped the devices into the duffel slung over his shoulder.
“Hey, Dave, what are you doing here?”
His son rolled his eyes. “You going senile on me, Pop? The school visit to the Capitol? You signed the permission slip? Mom gave me the money last night at dinner?”
Finn’s face paled. Oh shit. “Sorry, just a lot going on, son.”
David noticed his dad’s clothes. “What’s with the uniform?”
“I’m working,” he said quietly.
David’s face brightened. “Cool, you mean you’re undercover?”
“I really can’t talk about it, son. In fact, you better get going. It’s not really great that you’re here actually.” Finn’s heart was beating so hard it was a miracle his son didn’t seem to hear it.
David looked disappointed. “Hey, sure. I get it. Secret stuff.”
“Sorry, Dave. Sometimes I wish I had a normal job.”
“Yeah, me too.” He jogged back to his friends.
When Finn looked back at the screen, Simpson had left his office.
He stared over at David and his friends. His son glanced over at his father once and then looked away. The group of students marched down the sidewalk toward the Capitol.
Finn walked off in the opposite direction. He would have to try another day. Now he had to see his mother. He’d been hoping to report to her the news of Simpson’s death. So intent was he on what he was doing that he never saw the man emerge from behind a nearby tree and start following him.
After what Max Himmerling had told him the night before, Oliver Stone had come here to check out the office of Roger Simpson too, at least from a distance. Either Gray or Simpson had ordered Solomon’s death and the hit on Stone. Since he couldn’t get to Gray, Simpson was the next best thing. Now, however, there had come a detour. Stone had heard and seen enough of Finn to make him more than a little curious. Finn was good, to Stone’s experienced eye. Others around the area, even the police officers, would have noticed nothing suspicious about the man. But Stone was not like other people. He had run down many leads that led to nothing. His instinct told him this would not be one of them.
When Finn hopped on the subway at Capitol South, Stone did the same. The men rode it to National Airport. Stone followed Finn in. The latter went into a bathroom and came out dressed in street clothes, the duffel still over his shoulder. Now Stone believed that his hunch had just struck gold.
Finn bought a round-trip ticket for a short flight to upstate New York. Standing within earshot, Stone later did the same, using the fake ID and money Annabelle had given him. He went through security, his heartbeat ratcheting up a bit as TSA agents scrutinized his picture on the ID. They let him through and he allowed Finn to pass from his line of sight. He knew which gate the man was going to, after all.
Stone bought some coffee and a magazine. The flight was called. Finn was in the front of the full plane, Stone the rear. Forty minutes later they were wheels up. Less than an hour later, they touched down. Now it got dicey. The airport was small and the patrons few. Finn seemed preoccupied, but Stone couldn’t be certain. If he was the man running around murdering highly skilled killers in their own right, Stone could not underestimate him.
Stone was debating what to do when Finn surprised him. He bypassed the small rental car counter, ignored the taxi stand out front and walked down the road away from the airport.
Keeping an eye on him, Stone stepped over to a taxi and leaned in the window. “Got a layover. Anything within walking distance of here?”
“Some residences, some shops, a nursing home,” the driver said as he idly read his newspaper.
“Nursing home?”
“Yeah, you want to go there for a little R and R during your layover?” He chuckled.
Stone slid in the backseat. “Just drive for now, slow.”
The driver shrugged, put down his paper and the taxi pulled off.
CHAPTER 70
HERB DASCHLE WAS A VETERAN employee of the CIA. He’d done years of fieldwork, seen the world, ridden a desk for the last decade and then accepted his current position. It was not all that exciting, and the public was totally unaware of it, but it was vital to the security o
f the CIA and thus the nation. Or so said the Agency’s internal manual.
For two months Daschle had been coming to this nursing home three
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