Mullins sensed Dawkins was hanging up. “Sam, hold on.”
“Yeah?”
“The people who killed MacArthur are on the move and I’m in their way.”
“You think Orca won’t realize that?”
“But their way to me might be through my family. I need Kayli and Josh protected.”
Mullins waited out the silence while Dawkins digested his request.
“All right, Nails. Give me their address. I’ll go myself if necessary.”
“Thanks.” Mullins hung up and dialed Kayli’s cell. He immediately went to voicemail. “Kayli, someone will come to take you and Josh into protective custody. Go with them. I’ll explain later.” He thought about giving her a callback number but decided not to leave the burner phone on her voicemail. She was probably on her phone and would check the message soon.
Mullins walked back to the car.
“Everything okay?” Li asked.
“A few things are up in the air. But I’ll get it sorted out.”
Li stared at him with undisguised skepticism. Mullins made a slight head gesture toward the backseat, hoping she’d not ask more questions in front of the boy.
“I vote we find a place nearby for lunch,” Mullins said. “Then I know a little bakery in McLean that bakes the best vegetables.”
“I vote yes,” Peter said. “We win.”
“Remember an aunt has veto power over a nephew,” Li said, “but in this case I’ll make it unanimous.”
They’d traveled no more than five miles before Mullins’ burner phone rang. He quickly fished it out of his pocket.
“Yes?” Mullins said.
“What’s happened?” President Brighton asked urgently.
“It’s MacArthur, sir.” Mullins grabbed for euphemisms in front of Lisa Li and Peter. “He was taken out. My son-in-law witnessed it from a distance, but left the scene with a file that you need to see first. He will probably be identified and charged for leaving the scene, but the information he retrieved is of utmost sensitivity for national security.”
“What kind of information?”
“Not over the phone, sir. We need to meet in person. MacArthur may have had another agenda and I don’t know who else is involved.”
There was a long silence as if Brighton had covered the phone with his hand. Then he said, “Come to the White House tonight. Communicate with Dawkins on the logistics.”
“I will if Dawkins picks us up.”
“Us?”
“Yes. I’ll have Dr. Li, her nephew, and Woodson with me.”
Li shot Mullins an inquisitive glance.
“All right,” Brighton agreed. “Are you in immediate danger?”
“Not immediate, but the situation is extremely fluid. I think my family could be in danger, and I spoke to Dawkins about protective custody.”
“Understood. We’ll be on the ground in ninety minutes. I’ll coordinate with Dawkins.”
“And Woodson’s status, sir?”
“If what you said is true, I’ll have his back.”
Mullins didn’t like the answer. “No, sir. I need you to give him a direct order to stay isolated. Whether what I said is true or not doesn’t mitigate the circumstances. He believes the information he has should come to you first and no one else. If you want that to happen, then as his commander-in-chief you need to give him the order.”
“All right,” Brighton conceded. “Your son-in-law is now working directly for me. Pass the order along. And consider yourself in that category as well. Stay in touch with Dawkins.” The President disconnected.
“A few things up in the air?” Li asked sarcastically.
“Believe me, you and I are going to talk.” The tone of his voice silenced her. He turned into the first gas station and pulled to the far pump. “I want us to have a full tank at all times. Stay here while I pay in cash.”
He went into the convenience store and handed the cashier a twenty. As the pump’s numerals rapidly spun cents into dollars, Mullins stepped away from the hose and called Woodson. He instructed him to rendezvous at the Breezewood motel at five that afternoon. Before then, Mullins needed to get things sorted out all right, and he wasn’t about to face President Brighton without knowing why Lisa Li and Peter were living a lie.
***
Robert Brentwood was in his corporate jet descending into BWI when Ned Farino slid into the leather seat across from him. His executive vice president’s eyes were wide and he appeared out of breath as if he’d been running laps around the fuselage.
“I just heard from Jenkins.”
Brentwood leaned forward. “Did he find them?”
“No. But he just heard some shocking news. Vice Admiral Louis MacArthur’s been murdered.”
“Jesus Christ!” Brentwood’s face flushed crimson. “What the hell’s going on?”
“We don’t know if there’s a connection. Evidently it was a handgun shooting in a public parking lot.”
“Of course it’s connected. MacArthur was our point person for our AI military contracts. First they try for Dr. Li and when that fails, they go for our champion in the defense department. Where’s Jenkins now?”
“Staking out Mullins’ apartment. It’s the only option we have.”
“Well, think of some way to bring them in. I don’t want Dr. Li running loose while she’s a target. Mullins is good but he’s not infallible.”
“I thought Li was coming to the Fairfax lab tomorrow,” Farino said.
Brentwood smacked his palm on the armrest of his chair. “I want her back in North Carolina. We might have to accelerate our timetable and the Fairfax facility is too exposed.”
“Mullins won’t be easy to deal with,” Farino said. “He’s hardheaded.”
Brentwood closed his eyes and thought a moment. Then he said, “We won’t have to force Mullins back to North Carolina. He’ll want to return.”
“What can I do?” Farino asked.
Brentwood pulled his cell phone from his pocket. “Beef up security at Fairfax in case they do come in tomorrow. Leave the other part to me.” He turned his attention to the phone and began texting. Then he looked at Farino. “Well, don’t just sit there, get busy.”
Farino rose and walked to the rear of the plane. He didn’t like being left out of whatever scheme Brentwood was formulating, but he knew pressing for more information would only irritate his boss. The best he could do was anticipate Brentwood’s moves and make sure whatever his eccentric employer devised didn’t derail what had been so carefully planned.
***
Mullins, Li, and Peter had lunch at a small deli and then finished the meal with carrot cupcakes. When they returned to the motel, Mullins encouraged Peter to lie on the bed and read his Asimov book.
“I have a surprise for you tonight,” Mullins said, “so we need to rest up. A little nap might be good as well. Your aunt and I are going to step outside and talk for a few minutes. Okay?”
“About the surprise?”
“Among other things.”
Peter propped two pillows behind his back and grabbed his book from the nightstand. “Okay. But I can’t promise I’ll fall asleep.”
“That’s all right. At least you’re trying.”
Li looked at Mullins, but said nothing. Mullins opened the door and motioned for her to exit. Then he made sure the key was in his pocket before closing it.
“What’s going on?” Li whispered.
“That’s what I aim to find out.” He started walking. “Let’s sit in the car. We can see the door from there.” He led her past several rooms to where he’d parked the rental car. When they were inside, he turned on the power so he could crack the windows for ventilation.
“I’ve solved one case,” he said.
Her eyes widened and he read the hope in her expression.
“Who tried to kill us?”
“No. Peter’s case. The mystery of the missing hat.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The hat and your makeup were taken because someone wanted to run DNA tests. But you knew that, didn’t you?”
Her face transformed from confusion into fear. She knew he read it clearly and she looked away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I put my life on the line for you, Lisa. It’s still on the line, and now my son-in-law’s involved. A few hours ago, the Director of Naval Intelligence was murdered. I think it’s tied to this investigation because I had him run my own DNA test on you and Peter.”
“I can explain,” Li said quickly.
“And you know what he told me that the test determined? That the samples came from an aunt and her nephew.”
Li’s mouth dropped open. She shook her head in disbelief.
“Why so shocked? What did you expect?”
“I…” A sob caught in her throat. Her eyes filled with tears. “I expected the truth. Peter is my son.”
Mullins felt a knot loosen in his stomach. He hadn’t realized how tight this confrontation had wound him. But Lisa Li hadn’t retreated into the safety of a lie when he gave her the opportunity. In that split-second, he decided there was no need to confront her with the results of Rudy Hauser’s test run through the FBI. She had come clean on her own.
“So why would a vice admiral in Naval Intelligence perpetuate a lie?”
“I don’t know.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.
“Why would you and Peter?”
“Peter doesn’t know.” She took a deep breath and a tremor ran through her body.
Mullins wanted to shake the truth out of her. He wanted to hug the truth out of her. Instead, he sat quietly, letting the silence propel her story.
“Our government had a strict one-child policy. Shortly after my husband’s death, I discovered I was pregnant. My first son had been selected for special schooling in math and science. He was diagnosed as a prodigy, enrolled in an experimental education program, and I only saw him a few times a year. The boy was only eight, and neither he nor I had any say in the matter. My husband had committed him and taken great personal pride in his status. But after my husband’s accident, I was alone, expected to focus solely on my research, and I would have been pressured to have an abortion if my pregnancy became known.”
“But they let you leave,” Mullins said.
“I told them I couldn’t function without a time of grieving. I convinced them I could work conceptually without being in the state-run laboratory. I withdrew to the province of my family, staying with my sister in her rural village. We kept the pregnancy a secret. She and her husband had tried to have children, but without success. When Peter was born, he was registered as their child.”
“But the policy has relaxed since then.”
“Yes. Only within the past few years. But the status of those children born before then has not. They are still in limbo. Considered outside the plan. Second children get no registration papers which means no education, no legal status, and no acknowledgment that they exist. I would have been condemning Peter to a life not worth living.”
“Even now?”
“You have to understand documents are issued by local bureaucrats and so far they have been slow to act. And who knows what will happen to my sister and her husband if the truth comes out? Parents have lost jobs and even their homes for violating the one-child decree. My sister and her husband were conspirators in my scheme. I have yet to read the word amnesty in any of the policy changes.”
Mullins didn’t doubt the harsh, punitive actions Li described or the uncertainty of the consequences of her revelation. But her story was more than a confession; it was a weapon to be used against her, a vulnerability to be exploited.
“Was Vice Admiral MacArthur blackmailing you?”
“I have no idea who you’re talking about.”
“All right, then who is blackmailing you? Brentwood?”
She licked her lips nervously. “He’s paying me very well.”
“That’s not what I asked. Does he know your relationship to Peter and is he using that as leverage?”
“Yes, but it was only to get me to talk with him. I want to be doing what I’m doing.”
“Brentwood took Peter’s cap and your makeup?”
“Yes, but he told me he had nothing to do with the assassinations. Why steal our things if he planned to kill me?”
“Which brings us back to MacArthur. Either he knew you’re Peter’s mother and lied, or whoever reported the lab tests lied. Naval Intelligence wouldn’t make so blatant an error.”
“Rusty, I don’t know what to say.” She moved closer to him. “You know my secret. What are you going to do with it? What are you going to do to Peter?”
“Tell one more person and one person only.”
“Who?”
“The President of the United States.”
Li blinked in disbelief. “But we’re doing confidential work. Can we keep secrets from the head of your government?”
Mullins clutched Li’s forearm. “Secret Service means I keep secrets. I’m protecting you now, not the President. Anything I say to him is in service to you. Understand?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “If you say this is the best way.”
“It’s the best way.” He released her arm and studied her face carefully.
The fear had gone but before he could identify her new expression, she kissed him on the lips. The touch was gentle, neither lingering nor brusque, but still a kiss that caught him completely off guard. He jerked back and instantly regretted it.
“I’m…I’m sorry,” Li stammered.
“No, no, don’t be.” Mullins twisted in the driver’s seat, leaned across the console and pulled Li close until his lips brushed her ear. “Nothing is going to happen to you or Peter. I promise.”
Then he kissed her.
Chapter Twenty-five
At a quarter to three in the afternoon, Heinrich Schmidt cruised past the brick condo building for the third time. Lights were on in the windows of the unit occupied by Lieutenant Commander Woodson’s wife and son. This time he found a space half a block down and parked the rental car close to the curb.
Schmidt knew the boy was only three and he hoped the child was taking an afternoon nap. The mother would probably answer the door quickly, not wanting the buzzer for the outer locked door to wake the child. He was ready with his story and his false government ID. He hoped she’d agree to come willingly to the safe house. If not, he had duct tape for their mouths and plasticuffs for their hands to keep them both quiet and immobile until they could be moved.
This order had surprised him. After the hit on MacArthur, he’d ditched the hoodie in a dumpster behind a McDonald’s and used a public access computer at a Baltimore library branch to post an Internet declaration crediting Double H for the kill. He almost didn’t bother to check his e-mail, but did so on the chance there would be some congratulatory statement. That was when the instructions for the woman and boy had appeared.
Schmidt wasn’t happy. Killing was so much easier.
***
At three-thirty, Mullins’ burner phone rang.
“It’s Dawkins. I sent a man to your daughter’s condo. He reported no one was home.”
Mullins’ stomach knotted. “Have him ring her neighbor’s condo. The name’s Beecham. Sometimes Kayli and Josh are over there.”
“Haven’t you told her we were coming?”
“I left a voicemail. She’s not picking up her phone.” Mullins knew alarm bells must be ringing in Dawkins’ head as well.
“Is there some place she’d be where she couldn’t use her phone?”
Mullins had asked h
imself the same question, racking his brain trying to reconstruct his daughter’s schedule. “Josh has swim lessons some afternoons. Moms and preschoolers. And Kayli volunteers at the Shirlington Library for afternoon story time. Both places she has to turn off her phone.”
“But you’re not certain either was today?”
“No, but Kayli’s not one to sit at home.”
“All right. I’ll tell my man to stay put. I’ll see you at six. Don’t worry. I’m sure they’ll show up at any moment.”
Allen Woodson got to the Breezewood Motel at five. Peter and Lisa Li sat on their bed and Mullins indicated Woodson should take the one chair. He preferred to stand as a literal application of thinking on his feet. He decided not to tell his son-in-law about Kayli and Josh. He had texted him a short message:
You don’t know that Lisa Li is Peter’s mother. You only know what MacArthur told you.
So, Woodson sat in the chair, prepared to listen to Mullins without indicating he knew MacArthur had lied.
Mullins spoke to Peter first. “I told you we had a surprise tonight.”
“Mr. Woodson?” Peter asked, and attempted to look enthusiastic.
“Well, yes, but what’s special is that Mr. Woodson has made arrangements for us to go to the White House and meet the President.”
“Really?” Peter jumped off the bed. “Now?”
“No, not for another hour. We’re going to meet a friend of mine at the IHOP. He’s a real Secret Service agent, not retired like me, and he’ll drive us. So I suggest you take a shower and change clothes. We’ll wait outside and give you and your aunt some privacy.”
Woodson took his cue and stood.
“Let us know when you’re ready,” Mullins told Li. “Just signal from the door.”
Mullins led the way to Woodson’s car. Better to have two people talking in a different vehicle than draw attention to a Ford Escort that appears to be a mobile conference room.
Woodson slid behind the steering wheel. “So, what do we know?”
Mullins closed the passenger door and twisted toward his son-in-law. “Lisa’s charade grew out of her pregnancy and to protect Peter in a society where she and her husband had violated the one-child policy. The consequences of her revelation would have been draconian.”
The Singularity Race Page 18
