Washington, D.C.
October
ALL REECE AND FREDDY could do now was wait—wait for the CIA analysts to build a target package on General Qusim Yedid and wait for Rodriguez to get approvals to detain him.
Freddy rented a car and made the eight-hour drive to Beaufort, South Carolina, to spend a day with his family. It was Sam’s birthday and he had missed too many of them already.
Reece had turned on the TV as he got ready for a workout when he heard a familiar voice. Turning his attention to the screen, he saw Pulitzer Prize–winning journalist Katie Buranek on Fox News Sunday talking about unwarranted surveillance. She is right down the street!
After his last disastrous attempt, he’d decided that now was not the time to surprise her with the news that he was alive over the phone. But, knowing she was just a few miles down the road at Fox’s D.C. bureau, he was having second thoughts. He grabbed his phone from the nightstand and stared at the display.
Should I try this again?
What do I even say? Hi, Katie, it’s Reece. I’m not dead and I knew that detonator wasn’t going to blow your head off last time I saw you. Want to meet up for dinner?
Shit!
He tossed the phone on the bed, trying to focus on what she was saying in the interview.
Should I surprise her at the station? He could be there in minutes.
Reece looked at his RESCO watch.
Yes, that’s it. In person would be way better than a phone call.
He quickly changed back into his best clothes and headed for the lobby.
• • •
Reece had his taxi drop him off at a Starbucks catty-corner to the Fox News D.C. bureau, located just north of the Capitol and surrounded by America’s traditional institutions of power. Reece had always liked D.C., even though he wasn’t a city guy by any means. D.C. was different. There was an energy in the air. There was a sense that no matter how bad things were, this was still the United States. This constitutional republic had weathered storms that would have destroyed most nations, and had prevailed. As Reece ordered a Venti Blonde Roast and asked that the barista leave room for honey and cream, he couldn’t help but think that not long ago, all these instruments of federal power had been focused on finding and killing him.
He exited onto E Street NW and found his way to North Capitol NW. Reece strolled toward the parking lot across the street from the cable news giant, pretending to look at his phone while he observed the front of the building.
Fox News Sunday should be finishing up any minute. Wonder how long she stays after taping?
What are you doing, Reece? You are going to scare the living daylights out of her if you surprise her. What if she doesn’t want to see you? What if she leaves by a different door? Is this going to creep her out?
You are overthinking this, Reece.
His thoughts were broken by the sight of Katie’s blonde ponytail swinging behind her as she exited the building and walked toward the parking lot where Reece waited. There was no mistaking her, even at two hundred yards.
As he stepped toward her, he felt his phone vibrate. Not many people had this number, so he resisted the urge not to answer it. A number with the local 703 area code was displayed on the LCD screen and he swiped the icon to answer the call.
“Yeah.”
“Reece, it’s Vic. Where are you now?”
“Uh, I’m in D.C. Getting a cup of coffee.”
“The hotel coffee not good enough?”
“Well, they didn’t have honey,” Reece said, frozen in his tracks, watching Katie take a left on Capitol and walk north away from the parking lot.
“Okay, well, I need you on a plane ASAP. We have actionable intel, we have approvals, and we are moving resources to respond. Can you be at Dulles in thirty minutes?”
“I’ll be there,” Reece said without hesitation.
“Better yet, I’ll have an Agency car pick you up at the hotel. Get back there, grab your stuff, and meet the car out front.”
Reece ended the call. Shit. He took one last look at Katie as she walked away before jogging toward the street to flag down a ride.