“Move in on the house,” Ursa said.
Reed’s people could be seen on the grounds. Reed had to be inside his house.
“If Reed’s inside, we’ve struck a goldmine,” he said to Polaris. “Tell Peacock to bring him out at all costs.”
#
The percussion from the van exploding shook the ground for several seconds. At the sound of the blast, Peacock and her team moved through the woods, approaching Reed’s property from the east. Five guards had been spotted on the grounds. Satellite infrared imaging relayed their positions to Peacock and her crew. The five guards gave up their positions around the house and headed west at a rapid pace.
This is too easy, Peacock thought. They may be decoys leading us into a trap.
“Stop,” she whispered into her headset. “Magnus, I sense a problem.”
“If Reed’s inside, Ursa wants him,” Polaris said.
“Trained fighters don’t respond the way these men did,” Magnus said. “We have to assume they knew we were coming from that phone call and staged this event.”
“We aren’t getting life readings inside from the sensors.” Peacock scanned the house a second time. “I don’t know what to expect.”
Ursa came on line. “The only vehicle leaving the house was that small van. There has to be a ton of information inside.”
Felicia, with another agent trailing behind, came back from pursuit of Reed’s guards.
“We couldn’t catch them on foot,” she said. “They crossed a bridge over the North Esk River. We lost them.”
“I want to make sure it’s safe before we enter the house,” Peacock said. “Spread out. We’re going to comb these woods.”
“I’m going to trust your judgment,” Ursa said. “You five are too valuable to lose.”
Uncomfortable was too soft a word for having Ursa in her head this much. Was she under surveillance? Probably.
“Let’s spread out and walk through this property. Keep within sight of each other and flash your light right and left so the person on each side can see you.”
“It’ll be pitch black in a few minutes,” Magnus said. “That works in our favor. Your senses won’t miss the little things that escape you in the daylight.”
Peacock spaced her team about a hundred yards apart along the east property line and moved them west. She didn’t know what she was looking for, but her gut told her this was the right thing to do. She chose the middle point in the line, an area with the densest foliage. Screaming sirens filled the air, most likely responders to the explosion that destroyed the van. In the dark, the eerie sound of their wailing seemed to surround her.
Magnus was right. Trees and ground cover appeared amazingly clear with a flashlight at night if you moved slowly. Five minutes into the search, Felicia called out, “My god, will you look at this.”
Peacock found Felicia as the others ran up. There on the ground revealing its dark depths was an opening, the entrance to a tunnel.
“I almost fell in head first,” Felicia said.
“An escape route most likely,” Magnus said, huffing up from the farthest point away.
“Review the satellite images,” Peacock said. “Let’s see if their leaving went unnoticed or was simply out of range.”
“You and Magnus follow the tunnel underground,” Ursa said. “The tunnel probably leads to the house.”
Certainly, she needed to do that. But Reed’s guards running away and a tunnel found on the property? Her training taught her to be leery when things went too smoothly.
“Felicia, take a point in the woods where you can see vehicles approaching from the main road. Call us if anyone heads for the house. Magnus and I will follow the tunnel.” She pointed at the other two agents. “Go back and start the cars. We need them running if we have to make a quick exit.”
The instant Peacock stepped into the tunnel the smell of peanuts nauseated her. Lytle smelled of peanuts during her interrogation. Her brother was eating peanuts when he died, and she could smell the fire and hear the screech of tires from that fateful day. She stopped and held up her hand for Magnus to do the same.
“They definitely escaped through this tunnel.”
Magnus flashed his light toward her. “How do you know?”
“I can smell peanuts. Lytle was eating them when his crew held me captive.”
Magnus smirked.
Magnus thinks I’m imagining things.
Peacock pretended she didn’t notice. “It’s too much like a set-up. The front door is left unguarded. There are no life signs inside. Remember Carna’s call. Reed is expecting us.”
They continued down the tunnel. Not long after, they came to stairs and headed up.
“Let me check the door,” Magnus said. “I’m trained in booby traps and bombs.”
She obliged him. She didn’t know demolition at all. Magnus felt around the door, looked underneath, and motioned to her to step back. He pushed the door open and Peacock followed Magnus inside Reed’s house. As she stepped out of the closet, Magnus pointed to the front door. On each side of the door were sensors.
“You were right. Reed had us made. Break the beam and the house blows like a volcano,” Magnus said. “I’ve seen these devices before, the highest level technology.”
She nodded and the two explored room after room checking doorways for explosives and any useful information. Only the doors leading to the outside were armed.
“He didn’t take much,” she said. “Closets are full. Rooms are furnished. This feels like he went out for pizza.”
Three stairs headed up to a glass room filled with electronic instruments, cameras, and satellite screens. Every piece of equipment had a sensor in place. Magnus eyed each unit, ran his hand near the sensors to see how close he could get, and peered behind the satellite screen.
“Here’s the mother lode, but no way to access them without blowing us to pieces.”
“Could Ursa shut them off remotely?”
“No, touch anything in here and we are toast.”
“That storage bin, the one positioned next to the computer, is the only place we haven’t looked.”
Peacock had Magnus check the bin for explosives. No sensors. No explosives. Then she fit a key device provided in her Ursa kit into the lock and opened the drawers. The lower two shelves were bare. The upper two contained maps and pictures. She didn’t have time to study them. She and Magnus grabbed what they could carry and went back downstairs.
“Peacock?” Felicia whispered in her headset.
“Yes.”
“I think the authorities have arrived. Two SUVs with lights flashing just pulled up. Get out of the house. There are four men coming up the drive.”
“Run,” Peacock screamed. “Get to the cars and have our agents bring them around to the utility road by the tunnel entrance.”
She and Magnus raced to the closet, through the door, and down the stairs. She didn’t have to say a word. The danger was clear. Once an outside door was open—bah boom.
Halfway to the tunnel’s end Peacock’s pace slowed. Magnus grabbed her hand and pulled her along. As he hit the first step leading to the outside, an explosion knocked them both off their feet. Magnus grabbed her arm again. He yanked her up the final step and pulled her out and onto the ground. Dust and debris smashed into the lower steps. The heat even half a kilometer away sucked oxygen from the air. Peacock and Magnus raced down the utility road to the waiting cars. Felicia was driving Peacock’s Aero.
“Move over,” Magnus said, and Felicia scooted to the passenger’s side. Peacock jumped into the back seat, and Magnus peeled away.
Peacock realized she was laughing. Escaping death was an amazing, insane feeling.
“How many maps and pictures did you bring out?” she asked. “I have a handful, maybe a dozen, but I dropped a few when the house blew.”
“If you hadn’t been so slow, I’d have made it out with everything I had,” Magnus said. “As it is, I have maybe eight.”
&
nbsp; He tossed them to Felicia.
“Count them.” Peacock handed her what material she had as well.
After a moment sorting through them, Felicia exclaimed, “You guys found a goldmine. There are seven maps of the area between the White House and Andrews Air Force Base and fifteen pictures of limos, planes, and the president’s helicopter.”
“Did you hear that Ursa?” she whispered. “We may have solved this riddle.”
No response. She realized she hadn’t heard from Polaris or Ursa since he ordered her into the tunnel. Magnus reached up, touched the side of his head, and pulled his hand down. He gave Peacock a ‘let’s change the topic’ look and headed back to their hotel.
Something had disturbed her communication device. No communication was a problem. But they were heading home.
#
“Here’s to what’s his name.” Reed said. He and Lytle clinked glasses.
“To the van driver, poor bloke,” Lytle managed as he downed a pint.
“Yes, poor bloke indeed. But you and I still breathe.”
Reed had a list of names playing over and over in his mind. The name that popped up most often Arthur Pendleton was not going to like.
“Someone high up,” Reed said. “Someone close to Monroe called that strike. The missile and the van will have disintegrated. But we don’t know who’s responsible for the leak of information that led them to me.”
“Who do you think died in your house?” Lytle covered his mouth and belched. “Pardon me.”
“If some Herculeans died, the bodies won’t be identifiable. If responders or police died, we’ll know their names.” Reed stood, patted Lytle on the back. “You’re excused for your bad manners, my friend. I’m going to bed. We’ll head to my new home tomorrow.”
Chapter 26
“Your car had a scratch on the lower rear bumper when we picked it up at Heathrow.”
Peacock looked around the conference table. No one, including her, seemed to understand why that was important to Ursa. She, however, was the only one to voice it.
“We had to leave Reed’s property in a hurry, sorry.”
A scratch on a bumper, what did it matter?
“As with Martin, nothing is traceable to us except the paint scrapings. Let’s hope their people don’t find any.”
She didn’t understand the science that could trace paint to people, but she didn’t question Ursa. Instead she said, “I would think the firing of a weapon, or whatever it was that destroyed that van, would be cause for greater concern.”
“We used something top secret.” Ursa leaned back and swiveled in his chair obviously pleased with himself. “A rough translation of a Russian communications reads, ‘The blast came out of nowhere.’” He grinned. “The British know what happened, but they’re tight lipped. It’s complicated.”
Carna waved to Ursa that the presentation was ready.
“Everyone, give Peacock a hand,” Ursa said.
A few accolades could be heard. Felicia and Magnus smiled. Her close colleagues knew she didn’t thrive on applause.
“Polaris and I apologize for the screw-up of calling Reed’s number,” Carna said.
“Shit happens,” Peacock responded. “I hope Reed didn’t trace the call back to us.”
“He didn’t,” Carna snipped, “Now let’s review what Peacock and her team turned over to us.”
“The phone lists and numbers from Martin and Pendleton’s cell phones led us to Reed.” Ursa said, as Carna focused and highlighted the key numbers. “The papers and communications in Pendleton and Martin’s briefcases broadened our knowledge of the key players in The Sons of Tiw. The list of attendees at the meeting Peacock attended with the W.F.C. identified people we didn’t know were involved.”
Carna flashed a series of photographs and maps up on the screen.
“I’ll summarize the data we’ve seen,” Ursa said. “The Sons of Tiw is run by a ghost named Thomas Reed. He’s the head of that terrorist organization. Pendleton and the W.F.C. finance this terrorist group and give them their marching orders. But according to Pendleton’s records the W.F.C. members don’t know the details of Reed’s complete operation.”
Ursa rose from his chair to his full six-foot plus height. “We traced the van to a rental by J.R. Little in Glasgow. Does the name sound familiar Peacock?”
“Yes.” The name, Little, caught her attention and more. She wanted Lytle, Little, or whoever he was, dead.
“Well, we know now where he is. And until he returns to the States, he’s not on our immediate radar.” Ursa placed both hands on the table and frowned. “We have a serious problem. We know Reed has a team here in the country. Our guess is with Monroe reelected; they’re going to attempt to assassinate him.”
“I agree,” Peacock said. “I watched Arthur during the voting. He hoped to achieve his goal of electing Russell and having Edmunds as Vice President.”
Her husband wanted to avoid bloodshed. But for his cause he was forced to approve of the assassination. “The Sons of Tiw will target Monroe.”
The room lights dimmed leaving a dusty glow around the screen. Ursa pointed at a photograph. “Where was this taken from? Why was it taken?”
The picture was of the South Lawn of the White House. There was a clear view of the takeoff and landing area for Marine One.
“I think . . .” Peacock said, but Ursa shut her down.
“Don’t speculate. Just listen.”
He centered in on several pictures and maps. “These are all concentrated along the route Marine One takes en route to Andrews Air force Base. The photos are of locations along those paths. The maps are possible driving directions from some place in Virginia to locations north of Andrews.”
Ursa turned and faced the group. “It’s obvious they’re trying to select an attack point, then record the drive time to and from their residence.”
“We forced Reed to run,” Magnus said. “I believe we also sped up his timetable. He’ll strike quickly now that he knows he’s been targeted.”
“Magnus is right,” Peacock said, hoping she wouldn’t be shushed again. “I’d say we have no more than forty-eight hours, if that.”
#
“The government’s on to something,” Van Meer said as he paced about in his condominium. “The raceway location is being watched. We’ve abandoned it and left nothing behind.”
“The next time Marine One takes off,” Reed answered. “Shoot it down.”
“Roger that. Monroe’s ego won’t allow him to alter his plans based on speculation.”
“Monroe is scheduled to fly to Seattle to speak at the West Coast Governor’s Conference tomorrow. Use the Old Auth Road location.”
Van Meer’s professional antennas sensed Reed’s nervousness. Nervousness was unlike Reed, but not unexpected after the attempt on his life. “Let me double check with Morgan. We’ve got to recheck the weaponry.”
“Don’t take too long. If not tomorrow, it will be too late, and Pendleton will be pissed. He doesn’t like to pay for a service and not receive it. Understand?”
Hans Van Meer understood all too well. But he also understood if his team couldn’t deliver, no team could. What bothered him was why Reed was targeted. No one was more careful than Thomas was. All of his associates were close knit. They didn’t have a mole inside The Sons of Tiw, or did they?
After Van Meer disconnected from Reed, he wrote down a shortlist of potential suspects who might have leaked the information leading to Reed’s whereabouts. Martin was missing. He couldn’t be ruled out. The W.F.C. might have a member with a change of heart. Claymore’s advisors were MI6. But that didn’t rule them out. Then there was Laverna Smythe Pendleton. He trusted Pendleton’s judgment, but still, things did move quite quickly in Greece. After Monroe was dead, he’d discuss his concerns with Arthur. Until then he had some nasty business to do.
Van Meer checked into a Spring Hill Suites along the Capitol Beltway. Morgan and Dunn vacated their furnished apartment a
nd joined him. The Stingers were secured in a camper rental. “Tomorrow you drop me off at the Visitor’s Center parking garage, drive the camper to Old Auth Road, and wait for my call.”
“The freaking tracking electronics went buggers on me yesterday,” Dunn said. “But I’ve fixed it. If Morgan can hold the bloody thing steady, they’ll be singing “Hail to the Crispy Critter” before noon tomorrow.”
“Tell me about your bridge site trial runs,” Van Meer said, and flung his body onto one of the queen beds, as Morgan rolled onto the other.
“Why do I always get the foldout?” Dunn asked.
“Because you’re slower than a snail,” Morgan answered and tossed a pillow at him.
Dunn pulled a bottle of ale out of the refrigerator and plopped down on the couch. “During the last six observations, only two cars came anywhere near the bridge. Marine One won’t be hard to spot once you call me with the tail number, unless Morgan has a black out.” Dunn threw the pillow back at Morgan. “From that bridge, we’re no more than four kilometers from our target while the helicopter is descending from 2,000 to 1,200 feet. The last three trials were picture perfect. We’re ready.”
#
“We can’t wait any longer, Arthur.”
Pendleton turned the lights in his office off and stretched out on his couch in the dark. No matter what Reed said, the leak didn’t come from Lovey. If anything, she’d helped him through a difficult time, and she called him from Edinburgh to tell him she’d approved the hotel for Crenshaw properties.
“I agree. Do what you must, but Thomas . . .”
“Yes?”
“Be careful before you accuse my wife of betrayal. Have indisputable evidence or next time I may forget we’re friends. Understood?”
The dripping of Reed’s sweat could be felt through the phone. “Yes, I understand. I’m sorry. But I am your friend. Be careful and keep your wits about you.”
“I always have my wits about me.” Pendleton disconnected.
With Reed preparing to assassinate Monroe, Pendleton swiveled his body toward the window overlooking Threadneedle Street. No woman, even his own mother, had Lovey’s magnetism and talent. She equaled him in every way, except the fact that she was female. She knew enough to defer to him, because that is the way God made the human race. If he was Zeus, she was Hera. But gods and goddesses were fickle, and a tiny seed of doubt planted itself in his mind.
Room 1515 Page 18
