“Was he warning us, Ken, or setting us up? It didn’t take long for him to declare Alex a rogue. Barely 48 hours, if I remember right.”

“Yeah, okay, I wondered about that, too. But when I asked him, he said the order came from over his head. He was given a direct order to sign the papers — he did. He still regrets it, Alex.”

“Don’t you think that would be unusual, Ken? For someone to order him to do such a thing?”

“Not if the guy who gave the order is CJ.”

“Did Cliff tell you who the order came from?”

“He said it had three signatures. I didn’t ask who, but any of the three could be CJ.”

Teren shook her head. “Ken, there are other things as well, things that just don’t add up. Cliff is an experienced agent, with a good record. Yet from what he told us, someone has been micro-managing this task force since day one, and he hasn’t even given it a second thought. You’d think someone with Cliff’s record would be given some leeway — or would be asking questions as to why not. Cliff hasn’t asked.”

“That’s pretty flimsy, Teren.”

“Yeah, I know, it’s all circumstantial. I could be wrong. If I am I’ll give my personal apologies to Cliff.”

Alex turned to her. “And if you’re not?”

The blue eyes turned cold but Teren said nothing.

As they were heading into the downtown area, Teren pulled her new phone out and dialed. She handed it to Alex.

“Here. Talk to Graves. Tell him we can get Dawkins and Treville at the same time. He needs to have back up waiting at the office — I’ll call the code in when we know what hotel they’re heading for.”

“Got it.”

“Teren?”

“Yes, Ken?”

“What are we doing?”

“We’re setting up an ambush of our own.”

“I thought no CIA operations could take place on US soil?”

“Right.” She glanced at him. “What’s your point?”

He chuckled and shook his head.

They followed Davies’ white Ford to an underground parking lot connected to a five star hotel in downtown DC. It appeared they hadn’t been spotted.

Teren dialed another number and waited for an answer.

“Redhawk.”

“This is Ghostflyer, command number one-four-seven-dash-seven. Status is red, and the operation is a go.”

There was a pause, and then the voice came back. “Ghostflyer, confirmed. Need current location.”

She told them where they were, and the kind of car they were following.

“Location received. Redhawk is on the move.”

Teren pushed the off button and slid the phone back in her jacket. “We’ll have a team joining us.” She turned the car onto the second underground level, catching sight of the white sedan they’d been following.

The center of each level held the elevators that took people up to the surface, which sat in the middle of a cluster of hotels and office buildings. The second floor was no different, and there were several cars surrounding the elevator. The car Davies was driving didn’t stop there, however. Teren pulled into an open space, and kept an eye on their quarry which had continued on into a car corner which was fairly deserted. The only other car was a black limousine.

As the Taurus stopped, a man stepped from the front seat of the limo, and opened the back door. John Treville left the back seat, straightening the lapels of his jacket as he did so.

Alex pulled her gun, and checked the cartridge. Ken did the same, snapping the safety off. Teren sat still, her phone in her hand. When it rang, she lifted it and said simply, “Level two, northeast corner. Do not fire unless fired upon.”

“Check.”

She turned the phone off again and tossed it on the dash.

“Ready?”

Alex nodded, her eyes never leaving the figures in the corner of the lot. Teren glanced at Ken and raised an eyebrow. He nodded once, and reached for his door handle.

Teren led them through the cars, telling them to keep low. When there was only a single vehicle and the driving lane between them and their quarry, she held up a hand.

“We wait here. Redhawk should be here any second.”

Even as she spoke, there was the sound of several car engines and vehicles began to pour down the ramp.

Alex, who’d been watching Treville and Dawkins, saw the men scatter. Dawkins and his two staff members jumped back into the white sedan. Treville and Davies, along with Treville’s chauffer dropped behind the limo.

The CIA vehicles turned to face Treville and company. Agents opened their doors, and slid out of them, weapons at the ready. Teren stuck her head over the trunk of the car, and aimed her gun. Alex did the same over the hood of the vehicle, shouting as she did so.

“This is the FBI. You are under arrest. Get down on the ground and put your hands behind your head.”

The answer came in the form of a shot, which struck the car she was hiding behind. Immediately, there was return fire, and Alex cursed. With this much lead flying around, it would be difficult to take any of the men alive — but that was exactly what they needed to do.

She slid down the length of the vehicle, to Teren’s side.

“Do any of your pals have a megaphone or something? A PA? Anything?”

Teren nodded. She grabbed Ken’s shoulder and told him to cover their movement. He raised up partly over the car and fired several successive shots, emptying his cartridge in an attempt to hold the other men’s fire.

Teren pulled Alex to a stop beside a man with a rifle and a black hat with a red circle on it.

“Redhawk, this is Agent Reis, FBI, currently on assignment to the Agency. She wants to know if you have a PA.”

He nodded. “In the car, ma’am. You want to try to talk to them?”

“Yeah.”

He crawled into the front seat, and flipped a switch on the radio. Then he pulled the microphone toward them, handing it to Alex. She keyed the mic once to make sure it was working, and heard the squawk over the come over a loudspeaker that she couldn’t see.

“Treville. This is Agent Reis, FBI. Hold your fire.”

There was no answer, only more shots.

“You’re trapped, Treville. There’s no way out of here. If you wanna walk out of here, you’ll have to drop your weapons.”

Teren put a hand on Redhawk’s shoulder. “Tell your men to hold their positions, and their fire. Let’s give Alex a chance to talk these guys out of there.”

He nodded, and pressed a button on the headset he was wearing. “Hold your fire. Repeat, hold your fire.”

The gunfire in the garage tapered off into an occasional burst from behind the limo. Then that stopped as well.

“Treville? You there?”

She waited, crossing her fingers.

“I’m here.”

“You’re trapped, John. You must have realized that already. You really wanna go down like this?”

“I wouldn’t mind. Long as I can take you with me.”

“What about your wife, John? Think she’d want you to die like this? Don’t you think she wants to see you again?”

“I should have known, Reis, that you’d bring my wife into this. You’re a dyke after all.”

Alex saw Redhawk raise an eyebrow. She worried for half a second what his reaction would be, then ignored him.

“Dawkins? How about you? You wanna die in that car?”

A different voice called back. “No! Don’t shoot! I’ll come out —”

“Shut the fuck up, Dawkins!” There was a gunshot, and the sound of shattering glass.

Alex motioned Redhawk forward.

“He’s gonna kill Dawkins. That’s why he was here in the first place. Can we get agents up to that car and get those three men out?”

“Are you sure Dawkins hasn’t been firing as well, Alex?” Teren asked.

Redhawk held up a hand, and waited for a moment. Then he looked up at Alex. “I’ve got a report that one man in the sedan is injured, possibly dead. He’s slumped over the wheel. The other two have not been firing. There’s a possibility one or both are injured. Their friends fired several shots at them even before they jumped in the vehicle.” He paused a moment listening to the voice in his ear. “My men think they can get up to that car, and take out the shooters from behind. They can also get the injured men out of there.”