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Sirens were already sounding when Viper strode along the flagged, stone walkway running through the manicured formal gardens behind Independence Hall. Gone were the black wig and gray jacket, discarded in a large covered trash can. The backpack hung on her back, harmless now that the phone-detonator had been disabled. As she moved swiftly past the building currently housing the museum for the American Philosophical Society and toward Independence Mall Road, Viper glanced at her watch. The sirens were responding on the other side of Chestnut Street, telling her that Hawk had already dispatched Tarek. It would only be a matter of minutes before they were on this side of the road as well.
Coming to the edge of the busy street, Viper looked to her right at a city bus lumbering toward her. She stood on the curb and, as the bus passed, she deftly tossed Kasim's phone under the back wheel. A satisfying crunch sounded as the phone was smashed to smithereens.
She jogged across the street and walked down the sidewalk on the other side until she reached Library Street. The Shelby was where she’d left it, parked near the far end of the cobbled side street. Keeping her stride swift and steady, she crossed the distance easily and clicked the trunk open as she approached. Dropping the backpack in, she glanced around as she closed the trunk. A couple walked hand-in-hand along the brick sidewalk on the other side of the street, heading into a park. A woman was walking in the opposite direction with a golden retriever on a leash, and in the park several people wandered the paths, enjoying the spring day. None of them were paying any attention to her.
She walked to the driver's door and slid behind the wheel, pulling out the ear bud. The engine started with a low growl, and Viper opened the center console to pull out a packet of antibacterial wipes. When she’d discarded the jacket, she had wiped Kasim's blood off her hand and wrist as best as she could. While she was able to get most of it off, some remained. Pulling out a wipe, she scrubbed her hands and wrists. Once they were clean, Alina pulled out her phone and sent a text to Charlie.
Target down.
She set the phone in the mount below the dash and put the car in gear, easing to the corner and pulling into traffic, heading south on 4th Street. Sirens blared in front of her and she slowed as an ambulance and fire truck roared down Walnut Street, crossing over 4th Street on their way to 5th. Once they’d passed, she crossed Walnut and turned right a block down to go over to 3rd Street. She would take that north to Market Street. While going South to the Walt Whitman Bridge would be the safer route, the Ben Franklin Bridge was closer and would get her back to Jersey faster. Throwing caution out the window, she turned left onto 3rd Street. The sooner she got out of the city, the better.
At the intersection of Chestnut, the lights and sirens were plainly visible around Independence Park two blocks down, and traffic was crawling along the busy artery of the city. Alina found an opening between a bus and a utility van and pressed the gas, shooting between them to cross the intersection. Her phone vibrated in the mount, and she glanced at the screen. It was a text from Hawk. She tapped the screen as she pulled in behind a cab, waiting in traffic approaching Market Street.
On the bridge.
She smiled.
The cab in front of her moved, turning right onto Market, and Alina eased up to the light. It turned green and she crossed over Market Street, heading for Arch. Traffic was moderately heavy for a Friday afternoon in the city, and she sighed, coming to a halt after a few moments. The light ahead at Arch Street was red and she took the opportunity to return Hawk’s text.
On my way.
Traffic began to move again and, a moment later, she was turning onto Arch Street to double back to 5th. Hopefully, she was far enough north of the chaos in Independence Park to avoid getting caught in it.
She came to the light at 5th Street and got into the lane to turn right and head to the bridge. On her left, Independence Park was already swarming with security and police, and patrol cars were pulling up to block off the road going south. Viper ignored them, her gaze drawn by something else entirely. She looked ahead, frowning. She had expected 5th Street to be mobilizing. It ran directly beside Independence Park. However, there were also flashing lights on the next block, straight ahead, in front of the FBI building.
Before she had a chance to give it more thought, a tall man caught her attention, striding down the sidewalk across the intersection toward her. He turned up 5th to head toward Race Street. All thought of the drama outside the Fed Building faded as she froze. The man had a soft guitar bag hanging on his back and was dressed in jeans and a loose black jacket. He was completely unremarkable, just another musician moving through the city streets, except that Viper recognized him instantly. Painful experience had taught her to never forget a face, and this was one she remembered well. It was the same man who had disappeared into the Rittenhouse Hotel last fall before all hell broke loose.
It was the missing assassin, and he was still alive.
Blake handed Stephanie a cup of strong coffee and sat next to her in Rob's office. She took it gratefully and lifted the cup to her lips. After the paramedics looked at her, and she had declined their offer to take her to the emergency room, Rob insisted she go back into the building and wait in his office while they tried to determine what had happened. Stephanie had gone reluctantly, muttering that she knew exactly what happened.
“Tell me what happened,” Blake said now, fixing her with a piercing look.
She made a face.
“Not you too! You know what happened. You saw the bullet hole in the door. I went to the car and dropped my keys when I was unlocking the door. I bent to pick them up and the window shattered above my head. I fell and the second round missed and went into the door.”
“Did you see anyone?”
“No. Once I realized what was happening, I rolled under the car.” Stephanie's hands began to tremble and she shook her head, putting the coffee down on Rob's desk disgustedly. “Good grief. Look at me. I'm acting like a rookie who just got shot at for the first time.”
“A sniper tried to kill you,” Blake said, taking her hands and holding them between his. “That's enough to shake anyone up. Hell, I'd be shaken up.”
Stephanie looked at him tiredly. “What the hell is going on?”
He frowned.
“I don't know, but this is the second time in as many days that you've been targeted,” he said grimly. “It's not good. If they're willing to come into the FBI's house and take a shot, they mean business. We need to get you somewhere safe.”
Stephanie made a face and pulled her hands away, reaching for her coffee.
“Don't be ridiculous,” she muttered. “I'm not running away. I'm not a coward.”
“It's not cowardly to take precautions. They know where you live, they know where you work, and they've tried both. Until we can figure this out, you need to go somewhere they don't know about.”
“Like where? I'm sure as hell not going to a safe house. I'd rather take my chances.”
Blake was silent for a moment, looking at her steadily.
“Viper,” he finally said. “That's the safest place. You said her security system is unrivaled, and no one knows where she is. Hell, I don't even know where her house is.”
Stephanie bit her lip. It was true that only a few people knew where Alina lived, and her security was ridiculously good. Angela had been a guest twice now for that very reason. It probably was the best option. Blake was right. It was getting too dangerous for her to stay in the open.
“If I go there, she won't let you anywhere near the property,” she said after a long, thoughtful moment. “You still won’t know where she is. That won't change.”
Blake shrugged.
“I'm concerned with keeping you alive while we figure out what's going on, and that's the best place to do that. If a master assassin can't keep you safe, I don't know who can.”
Stephanie glanced at him. “You really think they'll try again?”
“They've tried twice. Whoever's behind this isn't going to give up and go home.”
She sighed. He was right. She knew he was right. Whoever was doing this wasn't going to stop. Alina's was the safest place for her to go. The problem was telling Viper that someone had tried to kill her. Twice.
“How the hell am I going to explain this to her?”
“Well, if you'd called her when your house was broken into like I suggested, you wouldn't have to explain much,” Blake pointed out dryly, eliciting a glare from her. “Hey, I'm just stating facts. Now you have to explain two incidents.”
“Not helpful.”
He grinned. “Suck it up and put your big girl panties on.”
“Hanover!” Rob exclaimed from the door behind them. “She was just shot at, for God's sake!”
“I didn't mean...” Blake began, then stopped, shaking his head. There was no good way to explain the comment out of context. “Never mind.”
“How are you?” Rob asked Stephanie, coming into the office and going around to sit behind his desk.
“Shaken up, but I'll be fine. Any luck?”
He shook his head.
“Not yet. Security is going through the camera footage from the parking garage now, and we've pulled the footage from the street cameras as well.” He sat back in his chair and studied her for a long moment, his face grave. “First your apartment, now this. I want to put you in a safe house until we can figure this out.”
“That's what we were just talking about. I have somewhere she can go,” Blake said before Stephanie could speak. “She'll be safe there.”
Rob raised an eyebrow.
“You have somewhere around here?” he asked, his disbelief palpable. “Where?”
Blake shrugged and smiled.
“If I told you, it wouldn't be a secure safe house, now would it?”
Rob scowled fiercely for a beat, then chuckled reluctantly.
“No, I suppose it wouldn't, although I hardly think I'm a threat.”
“No, but we don't know if someone else here is.”
The scowl returned.
“I can't argue with that, as much as I would like to,” he muttered. He turned his attention back to Stephanie and the scowl deepened. “We've been through a lot the past month. We'll get through this, too. Just keep yourself safe while we work on this. Obviously, you can work remotely until this is resolved.”
Stephanie nodded.
“I'll do my best to stay alive,” she said dryly. “You'll keep me posted?”
“Of course.” Rob looked at Blake. “I'm trusting you to keep her safe, Hanover. Don't let me down.”
Blake's lips tightened.
“I don't intend to.”
Michael unlocked the door and went into his house, closing the door behind him. He dropped his keys onto the hall stand inside the door and went into the dining room to put his laptop bag on a chair. After a long meeting that went well past lunch, the issue Chris had called him in to work on was now resolved. He could once again focus on Mr. X.
He jogged up the stairs to change out of his suit and into jeans and a t-shirt. After the meeting, he’d gone in to Chris and explained that he needed to take some time off. He had weeks of vacation time that had rolled over, and Chris was more than willing for him to use some of it. If his boss suspected that the time was for anything other than a break, he didn't let on. Instead, he told him to get a head start and leave early, and Michael had no qualms doing just that.
Walking into his bedroom now, Michael picked up the remote from his bedside table and clicked on the flat screen TV mounted to the wall. A news channel came on, and he turned to go into the bathroom, listening with one ear as the commentator discussed the latest stock market figures. A few minutes later, as he was pulling on jeans, the stock market segment was interrupted, drawing his attention. The anchor broke in, saying they were going to Philadelphia, Pennsylvania with a special breaking report.
“This is the scene outside Independence Hall and the Liberty Bell in Philadelphia right now,” a woman reported, standing on a brick sidewalk in front of an area cordoned off by police. Behind her, several emergency vehicles were lined up in the park. “Behind me is Independence Park where, just half an hour ago, two men were fatally stabbed to death. One was killed in Independence Hall, inside the actual room where our Declaration of Independence was signed. The other was killed while touring the Liberty Bell. Both men were visiting our nation's most iconic symbols of freedom, along with several school class trips. We have no word yet on a cause for the attack, or whether or not the attacker has been apprehended. The identity of both men is still being determined, but both appeared to be Muslim, giving rise to speculation that this was a hate crime. No one else has been injured in the attacks.”
Michael stared at the TV, his attention fully caught. His brows came together and he watched as more flashing lights pulled up behind the reporter. Two Muslims killed in Independence Square, in broad daylight, and they had no information on the attacker? It could only mean one thing: Viper found Kasim.
He dropped onto the bed, watching as the camera shifted to another view. This appeared to be on another street, which was also blocked off with emergency vehicles and police barriers.
“Meanwhile, just two blocks away, someone opened fire at the Federal Bureau of Investigation, hitting a vehicle in the parking garage. The incident occurred at about the same time as the attacks here in Independence Park. Thankfully, no one was hurt in the shooting, but the shooter is still at large.”
The screen split and the anchor at the station took up half of it.
“Thankfully, indeed, Connie,” he said somberly. “This all just happened, is that right?”
“That's right, Matt,” the reporter agreed. “Both incidents happened less than half an hour ago, here in Old City. We're still awaiting an official statement from police and, as you can see behind me, there is absolute chaos here. Students are being escorted to a safe space on the other side of the park while authorities try to determine what happened and why.”
Michael got up and grabbed his phone from the dresser where he’d placed it before changing out of his suit. He swiped the screen and tapped Blake's name in the contact list, never taking his eyes from the TV.
“Hey Mike,” Blake answered a moment later.
“Hey, I just saw on the news that someone opened fire up there,” Michael said, getting straight to the point. “Tell me you weren't there.”
“Oh, I was here,” Blake said grimly. “It's on the news down there already?”
“Yes, along with two stabbings in Independence Park.”
“Wait, what?” Blake's voice sharpened. “What stabbings?”
“You don't know?”
“I've been kind of distracted. The shooter was aiming for Stephanie.”
“What?!” Michael roared.
“That was my reaction. She went out to her car and they were waiting for her. She dropped her keys, thank God, or the bullet would have gone through her head. The shooter used a high-powered rifle and fired from the level above.”
Michael ran a hand over his hair and took an impatient turn around his bedroom, his mind spinning.
“Is she ok?”
“She's shaken up, but she's fine. She rolled under the car when a second shot went into the door. It set the alarm off, which alerted security. The shooter got away before they could seal the garage. What happened at Independence Park?”
“Two men were stabbed and killed, one in Independence Hall and one at the Liberty Bell,” Michael told him. “It happened at about the same time your shooter lit up the garage.”
“I haven't heard anything about that, but like I said, I've been a little distracted,” Blake said slowly. “Did they catch the attacker?”
“No word yet.” Michael paused, then cleared his throat. “I know I don't need to point out that this is the second incident with Stephanie in as many days, right?”
“Oh, I know.”
“Think you can convince her to call Lina yet?”
“I already have,” he said. “She's calling her now. I convinced her to go to her house until we can figure out who the hell is behind all this.”
“Good. I'm coming up tomorrow, so I'll be able to keep an eye on her as well,” Michael told him.
“That makes me feel a lot better,” Blake said, lowering his voice. “Viper’s not gonna let me anywhere near the house, and I'm not happy about leaving Stephanie there alone. I know you'll hold down the perimeter as well as I would. What happened to your problem at work?”
“It resolved itself. I took a week of vacation, starting now.” Michael paused again. “Alina called and asked me to come up. She was worried about Angela. She doesn't know anything about Stephanie yet.”
“Well, she will as soon as Steph can get a hold of her. Why is she worried about Angela?”
“There's no harm in telling you, I guess. It's not anything you don't already know. Angela's close to figuring out the truth about Alina. She's afraid it will make her a target again.”
“Target for whom?” Blake asked after a moment. “Trent Whitfield is dead.”
“For whoever was trying to kill Lina at John's funeral.”
“I thought Stephanie said the shooter wasn't an issue anymore?”
“He's not, but whoever hired him still is.”
Blake was silent for a long moment.
“I don't see why Angie would be a target, but if I've learned one thing over the past year, it's that Viper knows things I don't,” he finally said. “When are you coming to join the party?”
“I should be there by tomorrow afternoon at the latest. Where will you be?”
“Hopefully, tracking down the bastard that shot at Stephanie. Call me when you get in. We can meet for a beer and fill each other in.”
“That sounds like a plan to me,” Michael agreed. “I'll talk to Lina about letting you past her perimeter, but I wouldn't hold your breath.”
Blake chuckled humorlessly.
“Oh, I'm not,” he assured him. “As long as she keeps Stephanie alive, I'll call it good.”