It was the fourth bar of the night and if Kathryn Hopper followed her usual schedule Agent Warren Emerson figured that they had two more to go before he could turn her over to the babysitter back at her apartment. He had checked out the room when they arrived and nobody set off any alarms. From his table against the wall he had a good view of both of the entrances and he watched every patron for signs of weapons or any unusual interest in Hopper’s daughter. A trill of laughter marked Kathryn’s goodbyes to a pair of women who were now admiring their new nail polish. A moment later she slipped into the empty chair opposite him.
“I need to visit the ladies’ room,” she told Emerson in a matter-of-fact voice.
He had laid down the ground rules on his first protection shift: She wasn’t to leave the area where he had eyes on her for any reason. If she had to use the restroom then he would have a waitress make sure that it was empty, then he would go in with her to double check that all the stalls are unoccupied and then he would stand guard outside until she emerged. If he had to use the restroom himself the procedure would be repeated with the proviso that she would lock herself inside the ladies room until he was done and he gave her the “I’m back” knock.
“OK,” Emerson said and walked her over to the bar. “Miss, would you mind making sure that the ladies’ room is unoccupied?” He had badged the staff the minute they walked in and explained the procedure. The girl didn’t mind. He tipped her a few bucks and she found the job no more trouble than delivering a round of drinks.
“Empty,” the waitress said a few moments later and Emerson slipped three singles into her hand. He and Hopper went inside and he double checked the room then he returned to the corridor and planted his back against the wall next to the door. Emerson skipped his eyes between the men’s room, the rear entrance down the hallway to his left and the bar’s main room down the hallway to his right. About half a minute after Kathryn went inside one of the male customers entered the corridor. Emerson scanned him automatically – Caucasian, five-eleven, one-eighty, brown and blue, long-sleeved dress shirt, gray slacks, black wingtips. The guy gave Emerson a quick glance then hugged the far wall and slid by. A minute later, a cell phone to his ear, the man emerged and turned sideways so that he could clear Emerson without getting too close.
Just as he passed the cell slipped from his hand. Both Emerson and the customer turned to watch it bounce off the carpet and as soon as the agent’s attention was distracted Donald slipped the stun gun from his sleeve and pressed it against Emerson’s stomach just below his rib cage. It was an over-powered model that was guaranteed to produce an average of more than eight million volts over three seconds of use. The manufacturer bragged that it could incapacitate a man through five layers of clothing.
Donald kept the trigger down for a full three seconds then grabbed Emerson in a bear hug and bundled him through the woman’s room door. Once inside he dropped the agent, bent over and shocked him in the throat for two more seconds. Donald was just straightening up when the latch on the cubicle rattled and Kathryn Hopper emerged. For an instant she was frozen by the image of Emerson on the floor then she took a breath to scream but Donald jammed the stun gun into her solar plexus and paralyzed her diaphragm. Now he had to move fast. He didn’t enjoy killing but it didn’t bother him either. Warren Emerson had seen his face and that meant he had to die. A gun was too noisy and a knife was too likely to get some of Emerson’s blood on him but Donald had come prepared.
He pulled a plastic bag from his pocket, slipped it over Emerson’s head and secured it tightly around the agent’s throat with a piece of cotton twine. Donald wasn’t worried about leaving prints. Earlier that evening he had coated his fingertips with cyanoacrylate, forming a barrier that sweat and skin oil could not penetrate. While Emerson thrashed in a vain attempt to draw a breath Donald gave Kathryn another jolt then slipped into the hallway to recover the dropped phone. A moment later he half-dragged, half-carried Kathryn out the back door. In a few seconds she was on his car’s rear floor and they were heading into the heart of D.C.
Ten minutes later one of the nail-polish ladies pushed into the restroom and discovered Warren Emmerson’s body. It was another fifteen minutes after that before the D.C. cops found Emerson’s Secret Service ID and finally rang the alarm. By then Donald already had Kathryn Hopper safely tucked away. Part One of his plan was now complete.