Leroux-White Residence, Fairfax Towers
Falls Church, Virginia
“What the hell was that?” Chris Leroux stared at his laptop screen, watching as the helicopter took off, the camera feeds returning after momentarily experiencing major interference.
“I don’t know,” replied Sonya Tong.
“Where’s that chopper heading?”
“East.”
“Okay, track it. I’m coming in.”
“Yes, sir.”
Sherrie hung up the landline, the Director apparently ending the conversation. She disappeared into the bedroom.
“Dylan, can you hear me?” There was no reply, but he could see from the footage that Kane was alive. He finally responded.
“Hey, buddy. They got her.” There was a burst of static. “The bastards got her. Please tell me you’re tracking that chopper.”
“We are. It’s heading east. I’ll have a destination for you shortly.”
“Okay, I’ll wait for your call.”
“I’m heading to Langley now. Remember your cover.”
“Yeah, looks like I’m about to use it. I’ll call you back in a few.”
Kane’s voice was replaced by shouts as Leroux watched local police surround his friend, dozens of weapons pointed at him. The call went dead as Sherrie reemerged, clothed, carrying an armful for him.
“I’ll come in with you, just in case there’s something I can do.”
Leroux nodded, turning his attention to the last call he was connected to. “Sonya, I’ll be in shortly. Keep me posted if anything happens.”
“Will do.”
He ended the call then quickly toweled off before slipping on his underwear. He sat, awkwardly catching the pair of rolled up socks Sherrie tossed at him, batting them about several times before finally snagging them.
I’m definitely not a sports guy.
“It’s gotta be the Chinese.” Sherrie handed him a shirt. “They were after her, not him. He wasn’t even a target, otherwise they would have shot him when they took her.”
Leroux agreed. “They’ve clearly been looking for her since she defected, so it makes sense. They don’t like loose ends, especially loose ends that know state secrets.” He stepped into the bathroom, applied antiperspirant, then a spray of Yves Saint Laurent cologne.
Sherrie leaned in and inhaled deeply. “Mmm, love that stuff.”
He eyed her in the mirror as he buttoned up his shirt. “Don’t get any ideas.”
She patted his package. “I know, I know. Business time.”
Leroux pulled his pants on and stuffed his shirttails inside. “Belt?” Sherrie disappeared then returned a moment later with one as he zipped his pants. He quickly fed the belt through the loops as his phone rang. Sherrie put it on speaker for him.
“Sir, it’s Sonya. We’ve got a destination on the chopper. It landed on the roof of Temple University Hospital.”
Leroux’s eyebrows rose as he buckled his belt. “Okay, send the locals to that address immediately, and make sure Kane knows.”
“They’re already on their way, sir, and I’ve texted the destination to Special Agent Kane’s phone.”
Leroux headed for the door to their apartment. “Good work. I’m about to leave. ETA twenty minutes.” He stuffed his feet into his shoes, leaning over to pull them on, the laces still tied from last night.
Sherrie opened the door and gasped as two men stepped inside, one holding a gun, the other something in his hand. A spraying sound was followed by a fine mist, aimed at Sherrie’s face. She collapsed without a sound, the spray turned on Leroux. He spun but felt himself fading, the world closing in around him as whatever he had inhaled took effect. Someone stepped beside him and a voice said something in his ear, though what it was, he had no clue.
He was already done.