Teddy stopped in at the CIA headquarters to pick up the equipment he’d requisitioned online under the name of Charles Dobson. He flashed Dobson’s ID and looked appropriately bored while the agent verified the card and double-checked the provisions. Naturally they checked out. Teddy had uploaded agent Dobson’s service record to the CIA mainframe while he was on Holly’s computer. And Charles Dobson looked enough like Fred Walker that the ID photo wasn’t hard to match. A slightly different hairstyle did the trick.
Minutes later Teddy was out the door with four handguns, a sniper rifle, a generous supply of ammunition, half a dozen burner phones, and a few choice burglar tools, such as heavy-duty bolt cutters.
Teddy went back to the second-rate hotel he’d checked into earlier that morning. Not that he couldn’t afford a first-rate hotel, he just didn’t want that kind of attention. No one gave a damn about him here. As long as he had his room key, he could activate the elevator. He rode up to the eighth floor and let himself into his room.
Teddy stashed the equipment under the bed, took out one of the burner phones, and called Betsy on her cell. “Hi, honey. I don’t have much time to talk.”
That was their code. When Betsy heard that, she knew to give no specific information, just make generic responses and wait for her cue.
“I tried to call you before,” Teddy said, “but it’s crunch time and I’m very busy. I won’t have time to watch TV, so remember to set the DVR.”
“You got it.”
Betsy hung up the phone with a sense of foreboding. There were no shows Teddy wanted her to DVR. He’d been trying to give her a message.
Before she had time to think about it, a production assistant ran up to summon her back to the movie set.
—
TODAY THE MOVIE CREW was shooting on the sound stage at Centurion Studios. Betsy tapped Peter on the arm. “I gotta run back to the office.” He nodded, and she went out the door.
Peter’s office was at the other end of the lot. Betsy could have taken a golf cart, but she always walked so she did now. There was no reason to make anyone think she was in a rush.
Betsy hurried into Peter’s office, grabbed the remote, flicked on the TV. It was tuned to ESPN. Betsy shook her head, clicked the remote, and changed the channel.
It was still breaking news on MSNBC: CONGRESSMAN ASSASSINATED.
Betsy sucked in her breath.
Good God, Teddy. What have you done now?