know that he’s not hiding out in a training camp. It would be a—”
“So where is he?” Brenneman interrupted. “What are your people saying? This, uh…” — he
looked around for his briefing folder — “Kealey. Is that right?”
“Yes, sir. He was one of the officers involved.”
“What does he think?”
“In his opinion…”
Brenneman lifted an eyebrow. “Out with it, John.”
“He thinks that Vanderveen is coming after you, sir.”
The rain beat against the windows, but there was no other sound in the room. The president
shifted in his seat, but the expression on his face did not change. “May I ask how he came to that
conclusion?”
Harper hesitated once again. “Vanderveen hasn’t failed here yet. Kealey thinks he’s going to set
his sights higher.”
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“That’s it?” Brenneman looked skeptical.
“No, sir.” Harper went on to tell him about Gray’s final words, and the same confluence of facts
that Ryan had pointed out during their recent meeting with Director Andrews.
“So where is Kealey now?”
“Something came up that he could only take care of today. Naomi Kharmai, the only other
officer directly involved in this case, is with him, if I’m not mistaken.”
Brenneman ignored the circumspect answer. “What exactly do you need from me, John?”
“Sir, I’ve got my best people working on this, as does the Bureau. It’s just a matter of time,
really, but any adjustments that could be made to reduce the threat to your own security would
be—”
“You want me to hide in a corner, is that it?”
Harper hesitated, unsure of the other man’s reaction. “As a precautionary measure, I believe —
as does the director — that it would be a wise decision to cancel any high-profile events for the
next couple of weeks. Especially those for which details have been released by the White House
press secretary.”
“If I’m hearing you correctly, most of your argument stems from this man Kealey’s instincts.
You must have a lot of faith in him.”
Harper leaned forward in his chair. He sensed defeat, but he wasn’t going down without a fight.
“Sir, Ryan Kealey has risked his life several times in the past few weeks tracking down William
Vanderveen. I’ve known him for eight years, and I trust his judgment. It’s only because of Kealey
and this other officer, Kharmai, that we can even put a name to the face. Believe me, I know we
don’t have much right now, but we’re getting closer, and the threat is very real. Vanderveen has
serious backing and financial support from Al-Qaeda, and there is solid evidence that the
Iranians are involved as well. They have a clear motive here, sir. Kealey knows this man, and he’s
our best chance at finding him. When you look at it that way, we’re not asking you for much. The
reason for the change in schedule doesn’t even have to be released to the press.”
Brenneman nursed his coffee and stared out at the rain clouds moving over the gardens. It was
several minutes before he spoke. “John, I respect your judgment… I always have. Nothing
you’ve said just now has disabused me of that notion. At the same time, I can’t afford to change
my schedule without something more concrete. I’m not trying to prove anything; this isn’t about
reckless bravery. I’m meeting with President Chirac and Prime Minister Berlusconi early next
week. If we can come to some agreement for compensation of lost oil contracts, that meeting
might very well result in the dismantling of Iran’s weapons program without one American
soldier setting foot in the country.” There was a brief pause. “It’ll be historic, John, the best
thing I’ve done in four years in office. I just won’t cancel that meeting without good cause.”
The president stood, signifying that the conversation was over. Harper rose to his feet as well,
and the two men looked at each other in silence as the rain streamed down the large windows
beside them.
“I’m sorry you feel that way, sir, but I respect your decision.”
Brenneman reached out to firmly shake hands with his deputy director. He thought about the
steel wires protruding from the torn remains of the Kennedy-Warren, and he remembered the
mangled vehicles that had lined Independence Avenue less than a month earlier.
“I want you to find the bastard, John.” Brenneman’s voice was low, but the anger it held cut
through his calm demeanor. “Find him and put him down.”
“You have my word on it, Mr. President.”
CHAPTER 24
ALEXANDRIA, VIRGINIA
It was early evening when Ryan finally pulled into the Alexandria Detention Center’s parking lot
after having battled the reams of rush-hour traffic on I-95. He locked his car and walked toward
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the building’s entrance. Adam North was already there, waiting on the steps and smoking a
cigarette. He smiled as Ryan approached, and the two men shook hands.
“It’s about damn time,” North said. “What happened?”
“The traffic around here is a killer. I don’t know how people put up with that every day.”
“Hey, the money’s in the city. People will suffer anything for a paycheck every couple of weeks.
Listen, I have bad news.”
“Tell me.”
“Elgin’s found himself a lawyer, and he’s recanted on waiving his Miranda rights.”
Ryan closed his eyes and shook his head. “I should have seen this coming. Court-appointed,
right?”
North took a final drag on his cigarette and flicked the butt into the gutter. “No, he’s actually
managed to get somebody decent, probably on the smallest retainer possible. Elgin’s assets have
been frozen, and I guarantee that his attorney isn’t aware of that little fact.”
The DEA agent paused and turned his face up to the dim light, breathing in the damp, heavy air.
“The government’s moving fast on this one. He’s already been indicted, and the A.G. is seeking
three Federal counts. Conspiracy to murder U.S. nationals tops the list. Maybe if they weren’t in
such a hurry… I don’t know. Doesn’t matter, anyway. He’ll never talk to you one-on-one now.
You want to leave it, see if we can cut a deal?”
“We don’t have time for that. Besides, he had a knife to Naomi’s throat, Adam. He’ll give us the
information, one way or another, and then he can rot in jail. What does the conspiracy charge
carry, anyway? Twenty years? If he doesn’t feel like talking, he’ll be lucky to see day one of that
sentence.”
With most people, Adam would have dismissed these words as an empty threat. Instead, he was
immediately reminded of Elgin’s screams in the dark back room of the Waterfront Bar. “Where
is she anyway?”
“Naomi? I told her it got pushed back a few days. I’m hoping that she doesn’t call me on it until
then.”
A small smile replaced the bigger man’s uneasy expression. “I wouldn’t want to see her face
when she finds out…”
Ryan caught the intentional change in subject and sensed North’s lingering apprehension.
“Listen, you’ve seen this guy’s sheet, right?” He received a hesitant nod in return. “Elgin raped a
thirteen-year-old girl, okay? Not to mention that ninety-two people died at the
Kennedy-Warren, and he could have stopped it. Think about that, Adam. Ninety-two dead,
hundreds of lives ruined, all so Elgin could clear… what? A couple thousand dollars, maybe? He
doesn’t deserve any sympathy, especially from us.”
They were asked to turn in their weapons. North obliged, handing over his Glock, but Kealey
shook his head and held up empty hands. After they moved through a metal detector, North
signed the register while Kealey looked on impassively. Ryan was required to show the deputy
identification to get a temporary pass, but that was all. It was the one thing on which he had
insisted, and Harper had come through for him; there would be no record of Ryan Kealey’s visit
to the prison.
He wondered if Harper had already realized his mistake. For Kealey to be held responsible for
any unfortunate incident that might befall Thomas Elgin, there would have to be an official
record of his arrival at the detention center.
The interior of the structure was not at all what he had expected. Most of the walls were painted
powder blue, and the floors were covered by cheap government carpet, but carpet nonetheless.
He thought that was an unusual thing to see in a prison. The most surprising thing, however, was
the lack of noise. It took him a while to notice the absence of sound, if only because it was such
an obvious disparity.
North noticed his confusion. “This is what they call a ‘New Generation’ prison. Everything is
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controlled from a single operations center, and the deputies move freely among the prisoners.
Inmates who get loud or try to fight are removed immediately, and noise suppression was taken
into account when they chose the building materials.”
“It seems like all that would be pretty expensive,” Ryan said.
“I guess the benefits outweigh the cost. Anyway, I don’t know what you know about the Bureau
of Prisons, but Elgin has already been placed into the CIM system. I thought it would happen
eventually, but—”
“Hold on, you’re going to have to explain that to me.”
They were passing through an open lounge, filled with wooden tables and comfortable-looking
armchairs. Several inmates were crowded around a television, set at a low volume, absorbed by
a basketball game while a deputy sheriff looked on with a bored expression. Ryan was struck by
the guard’s casual stance, and he couldn’t get over the relaxed atmosphere that seemed to
blanket the detention center.
His attention snapped back to North as the acronym was explained: “CIM is the Central Inmate
Monitoring System run by the Feds. It applies to pretrial prisoners as well, and Elgin earned a
place due to the publicity his case is already getting in the media.”
A small frown spread over Kealey’s face. “I hope he’s not getting any special treatment.”
North shook his head. “No, nothing like that. He is getting some special attention, though.
That’s what I’m saying… I can’t guarantee that I can get you in the room alone with him.”
Ryan gave him a sharp look. “I can’t do this without your help, Adam.” A moment later he
spoke again, but in a much lower voice. “More to the point, I need you to keep your mouth shut
when it’s done. We’ve already talked about this. If you want out, just say the word.”
The tone of his voice left North with little doubt that leaving was no longer an option. “I’ll get
you in there,” he said.
Ryan smiled with relief. “Good.”
They were cleared through an electronic door that led into the operations center. Seconds later,
the watch commander walked up and extended a large hand.
“Louis Jackson. Pleased to meet you, gentlemen.” Jackson was a heavily built black man who
looked to be just shy of fifty. His bald head gleamed in the low light of the watch center. Despite
his age, Jackson’s strength was clearly visible beneath the immaculately pressed uniform that he
wore. Ryan didn’t need to see it to know it, though; his hand was still stinging from the man’s
powerful grip.
“You boys carry a lot of sway,” Jackson said in a low rumble. “I got a call this morning from
Harper over at Langley, as well as Nance at DEA. Both of ’em told me they’d have my balls in a
vice if I didn’t get you access to Elgin.”
North gave a friendly chuckle. “We’re not trying to cause you any inconvenience, sir. Believe me,
if we had it our way, we wouldn’t have to talk to this piece of shit again.”
Jackson laughed as well. “Yeah, he is a piece of shit, all right.” The watch commander quickly
turned serious again. “All the same, he’s a high-profile prisoner under my roof, and the man’s
counsel could make trouble for me. The lawyer is even more annoying than Elgin, but she knows
her business.”
“She?” Kealey asked with obvious surprise. Why the hell would a woman want to represent
Elgin? “Who’s the lawyer?”
“Her name is Alex Harris,” Jackson said. “This isn’t the first time I’ve dealt with her. She runs
her own little firm in Richmond, and her track record is pretty damn good. Tell you the truth,
I’m amazed that Elgin was smart enough to hire her.”
He held out his right hand and punched a warning finger in their direction. “Anyway, the point is
this: I’m happy to accommodate you, but if Harris decides to bring down heat on my command
because you two fucked up somehow, then my attitude’s gonna change real quick. Just so we’re
clear.”
North and Kealey nodded contritely, and Jackson waved over a deputy standing by the door.
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“This is Matthews. He’s gonna show you boys the room we’ve set aside for this little venture.
He’ll wait outside while you talk with the prisoner.”
Ryan didn’t want the guard, but he sensed that Jackson’s cooperation was sketchy at best. More
to the point, the watch commander looked like he wouldn’t mind dismissing orders from a
higher authority. Kealey didn’t want to push his luck.
He saw that North shared his apprehension, and shot him a restraining look. “Thank you,
Lieutenant. Let’s get this over with.”
As they walked several steps behind the guard, Ryan saw lingering concern in the DEA agent’s
face. “I know,” he said, leaning in to speak in a low whisper, “it’s not ideal. Get the lawyer out of
there, Adam.”
“What do you mean, ‘Get the lawyer out of there’? Where the hell am I gonna—”
“Just get her out of there. As soon as you can.”
They stopped at an unmarked door with a Plexiglas window tucked neatly into the gray steel.
Matthews turned to face them. “Okay, gentlemen, I was told—”
“Hold that thought, Matthews. I’m going to go grab a cup of coffee. You guys want one?” Ryan
asked.
North shook his head, discreetly shooting him another questioning look. Matthews nodded his
head in the affirmative.
“Right back.” Ryan moved off down the hall as North pushed his way into the interrogation
room and Matthews took up station outside the door.
“I still don’t understand why this meeting is necessary,” Alex Harris said. She was glaring angrily
at North while Thomas Elgin slouched in his chair, fingers interlaced with his hands resting on
his paunch. He made no attempt to hide the smirk plastered on his face.
Adam ignored the prisoner, choosing instead to focus his attention on Harris. She was a
stunningly attractive woman who tried very hard to play down her looks. Her efforts were
largely unsuccessful; her figure was draped in a formless gray business suit that ended in a long
skirt, but shapely calves hinted at what lay beneath the uninspiring attire. Her glossy auburn hair
