January 22, CIA Headquarters, Langley, Virginia
“ANYTHING ON THE IMPOSTER?” Drake asked.
Ethan nodded. “We traced him to Ziyad Al-Din. The plan was to kill everyone in the vicinity at the Inauguration. The podium contained a device that would have emitted a deadly neurotoxin if the imposter had been able to detonate it.”
“How did they get the device past security?” Drake asked.
“We’re still checking on that. One of the regular maintenance workers in the Capitol Building has disappeared. We suspect he was involved. It’ll take a while to trace everything. But we will.”
“So, everyone would have been killed?” Zoe asked.
Ethan nodded. “Everyone within a fifty-meter range would most assuredly have died. Beyond that, we aren’t sure yet, but it would have been devastating.”
“That would have been almost everyone in line for the presidency.” Zoe shook her head.
“Actually, it would have been everyone in line. The country would have been literally without a leader.”
“How did he die?” Zoe asked.
“Cyanide,” Ethan said. “Most likely a capsule he’d been given just in case everything fell apart, which, thanks to you two, it did.”
“What about the team in Switzerland?” Drake asked. “Any more news from them?”
Ethan shook his head. “I’m afraid not. It looks like everyone in the facility was destroyed at the time of the explosion.”
“There was no sign of Logan anywhere?” Zoe asked.
Ethan shook his head. “The team scoured the area, but there were a lot of body parts that can’t be identified. There’s just no way of knowing if anyone survived, although indications are that everyone perished.”
“How awful,” Zoe said. “Logan sacrificed himself for his country, for everything he believed in and there’s not even anything left to bury.”
“We believe that his efforts were key in taking down the Order. He’ll be remembered for what he did,” Ethan said.
“But there are thousands of people out there who are still part of it. What about them?” Zoe asked.
Ethan shrugged. “It’s not illegal to believe a certain way. A man—or a woman—has a right to rear their children to believe anything they want.” The phone on Ethan’s desk rang. “Excuse me.”
Like her father had raised her to be a thief. She’d willingly followed him most of her life. Just like these children would follow their parents. Damn, she needed a vacation.
“What?” Drake looked at Zoe.
“I was just thinking I need a vacation. Maybe a nice, almost deserted island with sun and sea and not much else.”
“Yeah? That sounds nice. Would you like some company?”
“I wouldn’t mind some company.”
Ethan hung up the phone. “I have to go. Director Bolton wants to see me.”
“Oh,” Zoe said. “Are you in trouble?”
“Most likely.” Ethan gathered up the papers on his desk and stacked them into a neat pile. “But my team saved the world. How pissed can he be?”
Drake grinned at Zoe. “You have any particular island in mind?”
“Hawaii is too crowded. Fiji, maybe?”
“Sorry, Zoe, you don’t have time to go to Fiji.”
Zoe turned toward the familiar voice. “What are you—”
“I know you deserve a vacation, but I need you on this job.”
Zoe gave Drake an apologetic shrug. “Okay, but what’s with the platinum blond hair, Shelby?”