“Quite.” With his right foot, Lobec tapped the SIG Sauer, which slid along the floor to Hamilton’s feet.
“All right then,” Hamilton said as he slowly dipped to the deck to pick up the SIG, never once taking his eyes off Lobec. He put the pistol in his waistband. “I decided I wanted to hear what you have to say. Now sit down on that cushion.” Hamilton pointed at the back of the boat with his head. “And remember to keep your hands in the air.”
An interesting predicament, Lobec thought as he sat with a squish on the cushioned ledge. To be at the mercy of his captors, most likely to be turned in to the authorities, was a situation he had never before faced. But despite his injuries, his hand-to-hand skills were still formidable. To use them, he had to get them off guard. And presently, he had only one way to do that. Tell them the truth.
* * *
“Are you crazy?” Erica said.
“It’s only a minor wound,” Kevin said, seeing that Lobec’s expression hadn’t wavered. “He’ll be all right.”
Which was true, but for the moment Lobec was a mess. Blood was streaming down his leg and pooling onto the floor of the boat.. His left arm dangled awkwardly at his side. It looked dislocated.
“I can’t believe you shot him.”
“He wouldn’t have stopped if I hadn’t. After two days with this guy, I’m sure of it.”
Lobec spoke. “You are probably wondering why I shot Mr. Bern.”
“We know why,” said Kevin. “Because you’re a greedy son of a bitch like Tarnwell. You wanted Adamas, and you weren’t willing to share.”
“Then why did he tell me to throw the bag into the river?” Erica said.
“What?”
“When I told him to let you go or I’d throw the bag in the river, he said that he didn’t care. He practically told me to throw it into the Potomac.”
“He was bluffing you.”
“On the contrary, Mr. Hamilton. She is right. My intent was to have her drop the bag in the river.”
“Oh really?” Kevin said sarcastically. “And why did you shoot Bern? So you could let us go?”
“Mr. Bern’s death was tragically unavoidable in the protection of my country’s national security.”
“Oh that’s just great,” Kevin said. “You work for the government? It’s just like you guys to wave the flag around whenever you do something wrong and pretend you’re doing it for God and country.”
“What does the Adamas process have to do with American national security?” Erica said. “If anything, it should be good for it, considering all the possibilities Kevin’s be telling me about the process.”
Without changing expression, Lobec said something that splashed over Kevin like a bucket of ice water.
“Who said I was American?” In that one short phrase, Lobec’s cadence and accent changed noticeably. Kevin couldn’t place it, but it was definitely not an American accent.
“Please allow me to introduce myself yet again. My real name is Nils Van Dyke.”
“What is that?” Erica said. “A Dutch accent?”
“Very good, Erica. Not exactly, but you’re close. I’m from the Republic of South Africa.” The words came quickly now, not the measured rhythm Lobec had used with the American accent. “My one flaw has always been my inability to master accents. I could do an American accent, but it required me to speak in a stilted manner. Unfortunate, since it drew attention to me. Not something I relish in my line of work.”
“Which is?” Kevin said.
“I thought that would be obvious by now. I’m a spy.”
Erica looked at Kevin, but he wouldn’t take his eyes off Van Dyke. The pistol was still pointed straight at his head. A pool of blood was slowly expanding at Van Dyke’s feet.
“You’re a spy working for Clayton Tarnwell?” Kevin’s voice was dubious.
“As you both probably know, South Africa is rich in mineral resources. In fact, it’s one of our main sources of wealth. It obviously makes sense to observe the world’s most powerful country to see what is happening in the mining field, both politically and industrially. My position in Tarnwell’s company allows me to do just that. Of course, he thinks I’m a mercenary for hire, bowing to his every wish because he manipulated my release from a Mexican prison and now holds the lives of my brother and his family as hostage.”
“Let me guess,” Kevin said. “There is no brother.”
“Oh, I have a brother, but not one in California, which is where Tarnwell thinks he lives. If Tarnwell does retaliate for my actions, it will be against a family that, except for a few fabricated records in my phone bill, doesn’t exist. If Michael Ward wasn’t lying, that videotape would have given me something to use against Tarnwell.”
“What do you mean?”
“You haven’t watched it?”
“We watched it,” Erica said. “The only thing we saw was the first experiment, the one that got this all started.”
“Then Ward was lying.” Van Dyke seemed surprised. “It doesn’t matter. Tarnwell’s easy enough to manipulate without it. However, my most important mission is almost over. I may not even need Tarnwell any more. Not if I can stop Adamas.”
“So you never were helping Tarnwell?”
“Oh, my missions helped him tangentially, but that wasn’t my intent. In fact, this mission will almost surely ruin him. Tarnwell has all of his money riding on a merger with Forrestal Chemical. If he doesn’t have Adamas by tomorrow, his company won’t be worth enough to pay the interest on his loans.”
“If you really are a spy,” Kevin said, “then why are you telling us all this? I thought you guys took poison pills before talking.”
“I’m telling you because I want to appeal to you. My country is in a very fragile state right now. It will take years to recover from apartheid, years that could stretch into decades if our country is suddenly plunged into economic ruin. And this Adamas process will do just that. It could devastate our economy, maybe even provoke a civil war. Whatever you think of me, I am a patriot first. I can’t let my country be ruined, and I’m sure you don’t want it to be.”
Kevin chuckled. “You expect us to believe that load of crap?”
“It’s the truth.”
“The truth! Van Dyke is the third name you’ve given me. Lord knows how many other ones you have. You killed my father, Bern, Ward, Stein. Now you want us to believe that all you want is peace and harmony for your country? Pardon me for thinking this is a bunch of bullshit. Erica start the boat. We’re taking this guy to the police. Let them figure out whether he’s telling the truth.”
“I must point out that I’m merely trying to protect you. Tarnwell has thirty men still looking for you. They’ll find you, just as I…found…” Van Dyke’s voice trailed off, and his face began turning white.
“We need to stop the bleeding,” she said. “He’s going into shock.” She started toward him.
Kevin put his left hand out to stop her. “Wait until we get to the marina. It’ll only be a few minutes.”
“He may not have that much time.” She struggled against his arm, and Kevin turned his head to face her.
“Erica, I’m telling you, this guy is dangerous. If he…”
Suddenly, Kevin’s left arm exploded in pain. The impact of Van Dyke’s foot knocked the gun from his hand. The Glock ricocheted off the port side of the boat. Before he could react, Van Dyke slammed him backward against the console.
In the next instant, Kevin could feel a hand pawing at his midsection. He realized what was happening and wrapped both hands around Van Dyke’s wrist just as he felt the SIG Sauer being drawn from his waistband. The safety was on, but if they wrestled much longer, Van Dyke might be able to flick it off. Kevin didn’t like the idea of a gun going off in his pants.
Erica, who had almost fallen overboard when Kevin glanced off her, regained her balance and came up behind Van Dyke. Using a modified Aikido move, she hammered both arms into his neck. Van Dyke released his grip and the SIG clattere
d to the deck. In a single twisting motion, he swung in a 180 degree arc and threw his fist at Erica. She ducked to avoid a direct blow, but Van Dyke managed to catch the top of her head. It was enough to send her reeling toward the bow.
Kevin stooped to pick up the fallen SIG. As his fingers brushed the grip, Van Dyke threw his knee into Kevin’s chest, knocking the wind out of him. Then Kevin felt himself being tossed to the back of the boat.
While he struggled to breathe, Kevin saw the Glock lying underneath a life vest in front of him. He scrambled over to it. In a prone position, Kevin raised the pistol and turned to point it at Van Dyke.
At the same time, Van Dyke was rising next to the console, holding the SIG Sauer. But it wasn’t pointed at Kevin. It was pointed at Erica. She was now standing at the bow of the boat.
“Hold it!” Kevin yelled.
Van Dyke remained facing Erica. “I saw you retrieve the Glock, Kevin. Drop it, or I will kill Erica.”
“What if I kill you first?”
“You’re in handcuffs and in an awkward position. I am not. My chances are much better.”
“If you kill her, you’ll die and I’ll still have the Adamas Blueprint. Now put down the damn gun!”
Erica looked at Kevin. Oddly, she didn’t seem as terrified as Kevin was. Instead, she was concentrating on him. Her eyes almost imperceptibly moved towards the water and then back to him. Her legs were bent, ready for action. Kevin understood what she was thinking. But Van Dyke was standing no more than eight feet from her. She’d never be able to dive into the river before he shot her. Kevin shook his head.
“Kevin, we both know how this is going to end…”
The roar of a jet taking off drowned out his words. Erica extended her legs and leaped into the air. Van Dyke fired the SIG. Erica flew backward over the starboard side of the bow. Van Dyke fired twice more within the second it took her to hit the water.
“No!” Kevin shouted. He pulled the Glock’s trigger. A gush of blood and flesh exploded from Van Dyke’s left shoulder, spinning him around to face Kevin. There was no expression on his face. No sadness, no remorse, no anger, no pleasure. Just the determined look of a professional carrying out his duties.
He swung the SIG in Kevin’s direction. Kevin had no choice. Without hesitation, he shifted the Glock slightly and fired. A spray of red flew back from the top of Van Dyke’s head. For a moment, he just stood there, as if nothing had happened. The only change was that he now had an expression.
He was puzzled.
The expression quickly faded. His eyes closed sleepily. Like a puppet dropped by his master, he collapsed in a heap.
Kevin pushed himself to his feet and ran to the bow, expecting to see Erica’s body floating face down in the water. What greeted him was almost worse. All he could see in the placid surface of the Potomac was his horrified reflection.
CHAPTER 37
Afraid that Erica had gotten stuck under the boat, Kevin dropped the Glock and prepared to dive in.
A bubble broke the surface on the starboard side. Then another and another. Erica’s head burst out of the water. She gasped for air and looked up to see Kevin.
“You’re alive!” Kevin said, amazed.
“So are you!”
“Are you injured?” he asked, holding out his still-cuffed hands.
“No, I’m all right.” Erica pulled herself up and over the railing. When she was aboard, he pulled her to him and hugged her fiercely.
“I was afraid you were gone.” Kevin’s hands began to shake and his teeth chattered.
“Are you okay?” Erica said.
“Yeah. It’s just beginning to sink in. I had to…” He hesitated.
“Van Dyke?”
Kevin nodded toward the back of the boat. “Dead.” The shivering got worse.
“Are you sure?”
He didn’t answer. She went behind the console and sucked in her breath when she saw the body.
“He’s dead all right.”
“I thought you were, too,” he said. “He shot you. You fell backward…”
“No, I dove backward. I thought he might assume I’d dive forward. Apparently, he did. I heard one of the bullets zing past my ear.”
“Oh, that makes me feel a lot better.”
“Let’s not dwell on it. It happened. Now let’s get you out of those handcuffs.”
They retrieved the keys from Van Dyke’s back pocket, then moved the body away from the console and laid it against the port side. Kevin draped the boat’s rain tarp over the body while Erica washed the bloody deck with a bottle of water. It took five refills from the Potomac to wash it all off.
When they got back to the marina, Erica told the rental agency they would need the boat for another day. After she paid in advance with cash, the clerk promised that it wouldn’t be disturbed.
There had been no discussion about reporting the shooting to the police before their meeting with Congressman Sutter. This was their only chance to get high-level help. Going to the police would just make them stationary targets.
The truck was in the marina’s lot, but they would never find a parking space around the Capitol at this hour. The nearest Metro station was a five minute walk. With only 25 minutes left before the meeting, they jogged.
* * *
The white limestone steps of the Rayburn building, one of the three House of Representatives office buildings, gleamed in the morning sun, forcing Kevin to squint until he and Erica were under the shadow of the portico. He glanced at his watch. 7:56. Right on time. The walk from the Capitol South Metro stop had been short. Kevin breathed a literal sigh of relief. The worst was over. Now it was just a matter of getting someone to believe them.
The guard at the door of the Rayburn building had shown them where to find the building’s directory. Sutter’s office was on the second floor of the north wing. They walked briskly but calmly upstairs and found the congressman’s office.
The outer area of the office was somewhat small, to be expected of a congressman who was in only his second term. The larger offices would go to the more senior members. Four chairs lined a wall under pictures showing various scenes from the congressman’s district. A wide-angle shot of downtown Houston, a medical researcher pretending to study a test tube for the camera, an aerial view of South Texas University. The last made Kevin feel a little more confident about doing this. He turned to the desk facing the chairs.
Behind it sat a slightly frumpy woman in her fifties. She gave a smile that showed perfect teeth.
“May I help you?” she said in a pleasant voice.
“Yes. My name’s Kevin Hamilton. I have an appointment with Congressman Sutter.”
“Kevin Hamilton?” The secretary looked at him as if he’d told her his name was Madonna.
“Yes, Kevin Hamilton. This is a friend of mine, Erica Jensen. Our appointment was for 8:00. It’s very urgent that we speak with the congressman.” Kevin tried to see the appointment book. There was none. It must have been on the computer. “It should be down for 8:00 this morning. I called last Wednesday.”
“Yes, Mr. Hamilton. I was the one who spoke to you. Until a few minutes ago, I wasn’t expecting you until 9:30. Now I’m surprised you’re even here.”
What was this woman talking about? Kevin looked at Erica. She seemed just as puzzled as he was.
“I’m sorry,” said Erica to the secretary. “I don’t understand.”
“When I called Friday to tell Mr. Hamilton that the meeting had been delayed until 9:30 this morning, I assumed he had received it.”
“Wait a minute,” said Kevin. “You called my apartment?”
“That’s right. Representative Sutter had a breakfast with Senator Mitchell that was supposed to run late. As it turned out, the breakfast was over early.”
“You mean he’s here?” Thank God. It wasn’t too late. If Kevin’s apartment phone was still tapped, Tarnwell would know they were planning on coming here. Once he found out they’d escaped, he’d send some
one down here to intercept them. They had to hurry. He started for the Congressman’s office.
“Mr. Hamilton, the representative is in a meeting. Mr. Tarnwell said you wouldn’t be coming, so I canceled…”
“Tarnwell?” He was right. Tarnwell’s thugs might be here any minute. Despite the secretary’s loud protests, he burst through the door to Congressman Sutter’s office.
The room was about 15 by 15 feet, with a spectacular view of the Capitol through the broad windows at the opposite side of the room. Bookshelves lined one wall, while a couch sat in front of the other. A television was perched on an oak dresser to Kevin’s left. A man occupied one of the two chairs in front of the congressman’s mahogany desk. Congressman Frederick Sutter, a slender black man in his forties with a receding hairline and dressed in a gray suit, stood up from his chair at the intrusion.
“What’s going on here?” he said.
The other man stood as well now, rising to his full six foot six height. He turned, and Kevin stopped short when he saw who it was. The look on Clayton Tarnwell’s face was almost as shocked as Kevin’s, but he quickly recovered.
“Kevin,” Tarnwell said, “I see you and Erica were able to make it after all.”
“I recognize you now,” Sutter said to Kevin. “You sat next to me at a South Texas brunch, correct?”
“A dinner,” said Kevin. “You told me about your son’s football scholarship to A&M.” He turned to Erica. “This is Erica Jensen. She’s a med student at South Texas.”
“Nice to meet you.” He nodded at Erica and then looked at Tarnwell. “These are the two you were telling me about, Clay? I find that hard to believe. I remember Mr. Hamilton. He seemed like an articulate young man.”
“Yes, Fred, he does. Kevin fooled me as well. I’ve never met this girl before, but her boyfriend here is the slickest con artist I’ve ever seen.”
Kevin made a move toward Tarnwell. “I should…” Before he got two steps, Erica grabbed him, holding him back.
“Now that I’ve exposed your little game, you’re losing your cool. How pathetic.”
Erica spoke to Sutter. “I don’t know what this man has told you, Mr. Sutter, but Kevin has discovered a revolutionary new process that could change almost every industry over night.”
The Adamas Blueprint Page 27
