Sam awoke in a hospital bed. She saw Dan Gable and FBI man Alfonse Archer seated nearby in visitor’s chairs. She followed their eyes to the television suspended in the corner of the room. Sam’s head hurt and it took effort to focus her eyes on the screen. She made out the familiar cable news logo and recognized the anchorman as he spoke in grave tones about a vicious terror attack in the heart of the nation’s capital that left nine dead and seven wounded.
Sam surveyed her body for injuries. She had a few dozen small shrapnel wounds and minor burns in addition to a splitting headache. There was an IV in her arm. She moved her limbs and felt no numbness or pain, and she couldn’t find any braces or casts. She had somehow missed the worst of the blast.
“What time is it?” she asked. Her voice was hoarse and she needed something to drink.
Dan and Archer both shot from their chairs to her side. Both leaned in for an embrace. “You had me worried,” Archer said. “You should have seen the carnage they pulled from the twelfth floor.”
“Hayward?” Sam asked.
“He’s recovering,” Dan said, handing her a glass of water. “Minor injuries, like yours.”
“And the girl?”
“She survived, too,” Archer said, “but just barely. They have her sedated and she’s due for surgery soon.” His eyes darkened. “Her father didn’t make it.”
Sam shook her head. “What a fucking waste.” She looked around the room again to get her bearings. The clock on the nightstand read 3:32 a.m. No wonder her eyes burned with exhaustion. She took a long drink of water, surprised at how wonderful it tasted.
“Wells is crooked,” she said, then wiped her lips. “He and Grange were in on the kidnapping and torture together.”
Archer nodded. “The wire picked up everything.”
“Are you going to investigate him?” Sam asked.
“We’ve already started,” Archer said. “The cyber team is already combing through Wells’s accounts.”
“Good,” Sam said. “I want to be there when you arrest that son of a bitch.”
Archer shook his head. “Not going to happen. Wells died in the blast, along with six of his security men. It looks like the people who were standing up when the bomb went off got the worst of it. The only other person to die was Joao Ferdinand-Xavier, and he was in pretty bad shape to begin with.”
Sam shook her head. “I should have seen something like this coming. We walked right into it.”
Dan smiled. “Even you can’t expect to see around every corner.”
“What about Grange?” Sam asked.
Dan shook his head. “He’s in the wind.”
“It was him,” Sam said. “He set up the whole damned thing. He killed the CIA mooks guarding the hostages and he planted Katrin and Joao in Wells’s office. He wanted us all together in one place.”
“Obviously. But why?” Archer asked.
Sam shrugged. “A house divided. Hayward and I figured there was something between Grange and Senator Stanley that had turned sour. My guess is maybe Wells crossed Grange as well.”
Dan shook his head. “That had to have been one hell of a disagreement. Why go nuclear like that?”
“I think they probably had enough dirt to bury each other a dozen times over,” Sam said. “I’d bet Grange didn’t trust either of them to keep their mouths shut.”
She took another sip of water and said, “Hayward, me, the hostages—we were all liabilities and maybe Grange thought he’d take care of us all at once.”
Archer shook his head. “Something doesn’t fit,” he said. “Why did they involve you in the first place?”
“Damn good question,” Sam said. “I have no idea why, but the Agency guys kept showing up, nudging me along like they wanted me to unravel the Doberman case.”
Archer frowned. “That doesn’t make any sense,” he said. “It seems pretty clear they were involved. If CIA was dirty, why the hell would they ever want you to find out?”
“Another great question,” Sam said. “One I would love to ask my dear friend Artemis Grange.”
Archer’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t even think about going after him,” he said.
Sam shook her head and rubbed her eyes. “That will be hard to do from a jail cell.”
Dan and Archer exchanged a look.
“What?”
Dan broke into a smile. “It’s not the top news story, but at least it made the hourly rotation,” he said.
“What are you talking about?”
Dan pointed at the TV screen. Sam read the ribbon of text scrolling across the bottom: “McCulley girl killed by rogue CIA asset, according to government sources.”
Sam smiled. “I had almost forgotten. I’m so glad they ran the story. Thank you, Dan.”
“No problem,” Dan said. “The newspapers are all going to run the story too, but it probably won’t be on the front page now that there’s been a ‘terrorist attack’ in DC.”
“Right,” Sam said. “I’ll take what I can get.” She looked at Archer. “So they’re going to drop the charges against me?”
Archer shook his head. “The attorney general is re-evaluating his position in light of the new facts.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
Archer smiled. “It means I was never here, and you should be careful about where you show your face for the next few days.”
Sam shook her head. “Goddamn politicians.”
Archer gave her another hug. “I have to hit the road,” he said. “Rumor has it there’s an international fugitive on the loose in our fair city.”
Sam smiled. “We’re all counting on you.”
“Hang tough, Sam,” Archer said on his way out. “I have a feeling this is going to work out just fine.”