“If nothing else, the Service teaches its agents to remain cool. But I have to admit, it’s getting more difficult by the minute.”

“It’s nice to know you’re human. What now?”

“As much as I hate to do it, we have to ditch my Corvette and find a place to hole up. Then we wait to hear back from Bobby and hope it’s good news. But I sort of doubt it will be.”

CHAPTER 82

THEY JETTISONED ALEX’S CORVETTE, grabbed a cab to Old Town Alexandria and then walked to a nearby motel. Annabelle checked in paying cash and using her fake ID while Alex hid outside. They went to their room and bolted the door.

An hour later Bobby called back. That he was whispering told Alex all he needed to know.

“The official story we just got in is you opened fire on federal agents who were attempting to make an arrest at your house. And that you’re harboring an unnamed fugitive, a woman. None of us believe it, Alex, but the director’s going nuts. Word is he and the CIA director just had a dustup on the phone.”

“Those federal agents were either trying to kill or kidnap me, Bobby! And the only thing I’m harboring is a strong desire to kick somebody’s ass to get some answers.”

“Hey, I’m on your side. You didn’t walk out of the office today and become a felon. But you still better come in and give your side of things.” He paused. “Alex, do you have someone with you?”

Alex stared over at Annabelle, who looked anxiously back at him. “Thanks, Bobby. I’ll be in touch.”

He clicked off and threw the phone down on the bed in disgust. “Okay, we’ve obviously been teleported to an alternate universe where all the good guys are screwed.”

Annabelle sat down on the bed next to him. “Thank you.”

“Look, sarcasm I can do without right now.”

“I’m not being sarcastic. I’m thanking you for saving my life tonight. Twice!”

“I’m sorry, Annabelle. I just didn’t see this twist coming until it was too late.”

“But why would the CIA target us?”

“The only thing I can think of is that I have a connection to Oliver.”

“But why come after Oliver now?”

“A while back when the president was kidnapped and the U.S. was on the verge of a nuclear strike-”

“Oliver was involved in that!”

“We both were. And not by choice. But when that happened, Carter Gray was also involved. And not in a good way. Oliver’s the reason the guy ended up resigning.”

“So Oliver had something on Carter Gray and used that to make him quit his job?”

“You got it.”

“But Gray’s dead.”

“They never found his body.”

“So maybe the man’s plotting from beyond the grave.”

“That’s what it looks like. And we’re trapped right in the middle of it all.”

“We have to find Oliver.”

“Won’t be that easy. If the CIA is involved you can bet they’ve put the hammer down on the other agencies either to cooperate or stand down.”

“But we just helped the FBI,” Annabelle countered.

“Doesn’t matter. National security trumps everything else. So that means our movements will really be restricted. And unlike in TV shows and the movies, it’s almost impossible to run from the cops. You have millions of eyes watching and somebody will see something and then that’s it. And they sure know what I look like.”

Annabelle held up her bag. “I can do something about that. Step into the changing room.” She had Alex sit on the commode in the bathroom while she pulled out a small box from the bag and readied some items. It took an hour, but at the end of sixty minutes Alex Ford no longer looked like Alex Ford.

He gazed at himself in the mirror. “You’re good at this stuff.”

“Comes in handy. Tomorrow morning we can find a wig shop and get a few other clothes and things to improve the disguise. Give me a little more time with you and I doubt Mrs. Ford would recognize her husband.”

“That wouldn’t be hard since there isn’t a Mrs. Ford.”

She packed the kit back up. “I suddenly realized I’m starving.”

“I saw a McDonald’s down the street.”

“Super-size me,” Annabelle said.

As Alex was walking to McDonald’s he got a call from Stone. “Bagger’s history but Gray almost nailed us,” he told Stone. “Paddy’s dead. Annabelle’s taking it kind of hard.”

“I’m truly sorry to hear that, but I’m afraid I need your help, again.”

Alex listened for a few minutes and then told Stone that he and Annabelle would meet him two nights from now, allowing things to settle down a bit.

He clicked off and hoofed it to the McDonald’s, where he super-sized them both. On his way back, his arms full of artery-busting food, he wondered if this might be one of his last meals.

CHAPTER 83

FOR ONE OF THE FEW TIMES in his career, Carter Gray screamed in uncontrolled fury after being told that Alex Ford had escaped.

With a disgusted look he dismissed the stone-faced men standing in front of him. They’d missed Carr, Lesya and her son, and now this! Such incompetence never would have happened in the old days, he told himself. When he had men like John Carr…

Three deep breaths later and Gray was all business again. It was a setback, but only a setback. He had gotten another intelligence breakthrough barely thirty minutes ago. He’d discovered over the years that they tended to come in bushels.

They had matched the man’s face to a database. The gentleman with Carr and Lesya was named Harry Finn, a former Navy SEAL who now performed consulting work with the Department of Homeland Security as a member of a red cell team. Or he did such work. Gray couldn’t envision the man’s career continuing, because he was undoubtedly Lesya Solomon’s son. And that meant he was a murderer. And he had to die before he ever came to court.

Gray had already dispatched a team to Finn’s home. He lived in a cozy place in the suburbs; had a lovely wife and three darling children. He coached soccer in his spare time and from all accounts was a model citizen. And Gray was sure that when his men got to the house it would be empty. A phone call he received ten minutes later confirmed this.

However, his team didn’t come away entirely empty-handed. In a safe in the garage they discovered some interesting details. They also found some paperwork about a storage unit. When they got there, they hit the treasure trove. It was filled with the histories of Bingham, Cole and Cincetti. And Carter Gray and Roger Simpson. And finally John Carr. Though nary a scrap of information could be found about Rayfield and Lesya, Harry Finn was undoubtedly their man. Only where was he now? And where were his wife and children? In hiding, of course. And it was up to Carter Gray to flush them out. He only hoped he would have better luck.

Yet he sensed that he would. It was completely counterintuitive for them to do it, but for some reason Gray felt as though Stone, Lesya and Harry Finn were very close by. And if they were, they would succumb to a mistake at some point. It would not necessarily be their mistake. There was another factor to be put into the equation: Finn’s very ordinary family.

He lifted his phone. “Put a trace on every credit and debit card and every cell and hard-line phone registered to the Finn family. You know where he works, so put surveillance on all his co-workers and his office. Watch the kids’ schools and Mom’s book club group. If they show themselves, take them. Move heaven and earth, but get them.”