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Stephanie came awake with a start. The room was pitch black and the apartment was silent, but something had awoken her. She sat up and listened intently to the silence, staring at the closed bedroom door. When there was no sound after a few seconds, she glanced at the phone, plugged into the charger on her bedside table next to her holstered 9mm Glock. Stephanie reached out and swiftly pulled her gun from the holster, swinging her legs out of bed and standing in the darkness. She heard John's bedroom door open and crossed to her door swiftly, opening it and looking out into the hallway. John was disappearing into the living room, his phone pressed to his ear. Stephanie followed him silently.
“Are you serious?” John was demanding as she stepped into the living room.
He turned and saw her, his eyes dropping to her gun. He smiled briefly in the darkness at the sight of it. Stephanie watched him curiously. Only two people had the number to the clean phones that Alina had given them.
“How reliable is the information?” John asked, standing in the middle of the living room, listening intently. After a moment, he sighed. “You don't need to come here. I think we can handle it,” he muttered.
Whatever the response was to that, it didn't make John happy. He scowled ferociously and the muscle in his jaw pulsed as he clamped his jaw shut. Stephanie had her answer as to which of the two people had called the secure phone. Only one of them had the knack of irritating John so swiftly.
“Fine.”
John hung up and tossed the phone onto the coffee table before turning to face Stephanie. His lips curved into a grin and he looked at her gun again.
“You expecting company?” he asked humorously.
“I didn't know what woke me up,” Stephanie retorted, setting the gun down on the end table. “Now I know it was your phone. What did Damon say?”
“We'll be having company,” John answered, sinking down onto the couch with a yawn and propping his bare feet onto the coffee table. Stephanie frowned and sat next to him. “You might want to keep that gun handy. Apparently, you had the right idea.”
“What happened?” Stephanie asked.
“He didn't say much.” John yawned again and rubbed his face. “The gist of it was that Alina's government file was released yesterday, and in it was a list of all her safe houses, this one included.”
Stephanie sat back on the couch, a chill running through her.
“So, the person who tried to kill me now knows where we are.”
John nodded and glanced at her.
“That's about it,” he answered. He watched as she stared straight-ahead, her lips pressed together slightly. “Are you worried?” he asked softly.
Stephanie glanced at him.
“I'd be a fool not to be,” she retorted. “They tried twice and failed. Alina was right. They won't stop until I'm dead.”
“Or until they are.”
“Did Damon say how much time we have?” Stephanie asked. John shook his head.
“No. He just landed in Philly and is coming straight here,” he told her. “He wants us to be on our guard.”
“Why isn't he with Alina?” Stephanie demanded.
John leaned his head back on the couch.
“I don't know. I didn't get the chance to ask,” he muttered.
Stephanie was silent as they both stared at the numbers illuminated on the cable box. 3:32am.
“I have two guns,” Stephanie finally broke the silence. “This one and Alina's back-up. How about you?”
“Two.”
They fell silent again, both listening to the silence around them. Going back to sleep was out of the question now.
“Damon sounded pretty sure of the threat?” Stephanie asked after a moment.
“He's coming here,” John retorted and Stephanie nodded. They both knew Damon wouldn't make the trip unless he was sure.
“I guess I'd better get dressed then.”
Stephanie stood up and John glanced at her t-shirt and boxer shorts with a grin.
“I kind of like the pj's,” he told her, standing with her.
Stephanie rolled her eyes and picked up her gun, starting down the hallway to her bedroom. She turned her head when she realized that John was right behind her.
“What are you doing?” she demanded, stopping and facing him in the dark hallway.
John looked down at her, his face inches from hers.
“Coming with you,” he said, all traces of humor gone from his face. “Until this is over, I'm not leaving your side.”
“I think I can get dressed without you,” Stephanie retorted.
John shook his head slowly and that familiar twinkle came back into his eyes.
“But where would the fun be in that?” he murmured.
Stephanie huffed and turned to go into her bedroom, John close behind her.
“Sometimes I really do think you're still stuck in grade school,” she muttered.
Viper glanced at her watch and then lifted the binoculars to her eyes. She scanned the quiet street in front of Regina's house, pausing for a moment on the black Challenger parked halfway down. The sun was just starting to lighten the sky to a pale gray and the birds were starting to wake up, interrupting the silence occasionally with their song. Regina's house was still and quiet, but Alina knew that she was awake. Her cellphone had just received an incoming call.
Viper lowered her binoculars and turned to the small laptop next to her. She had hacked into Regina's cell carrier and set a patch on Regina's line before she left the cabin. Now, she ran a trace on the number that had just called Regina's cell phone. It was another cell phone and the GPS link placed it in Miami. Alina watched as the call time reached just over three minutes before it ended. She raised the binoculars again and waited, watching Regina's house. After a few minutes, a light flicked on in the hallway and then the light in the kitchen turned on. Viper glanced at her watch again. Just after five in the morning. Regina was getting an early start today.
Alina lowered the binoculars and turned back to her laptop. Within seconds, she had the name of the person who owned the phone in Miami. She ran it through one of her programs and, a few minutes later, knew that they were a private charter pilot. Viper raised her head and lifted her travel mug of coffee to her lips thoughtfully.
Regina was definitely running. From Miami, she could easily reach any of the islands, Latin America, or South America. Or she could cross the ocean and disappear into Europe. Alina narrowed her eyes, staring at the townhouse from her rooftop. She couldn't see Regina going to Europe right away. She would need funds, and the islands were notorious for offshore accounts. If she was arranging to fly by private charter out of Miami, Alina liked the odds of the islands as the destination. But when? When was she flying out?
Lifting the binoculars again, Viper watched as Regina made herself coffee before going into the dining room where her laptop was sitting on the dining room table. She settled herself before it with her coffee and Alina shifted her binoculars to the black Challenger.
It was in the same spot as it had been last night and Alina wondered if Blake had been home yet to see the present she left him. She studied the car thoughtfully and zoomed in on him. He was sipping bottled water, binoculars to his eyes, watching Regina's living room window. Alina smiled slowly, noting the freshly-shaved face and different shirt. He had been home. He had the gun.
She moved the binoculars back to Regina's window and watched for another moment before lowering them again. She drank some more coffee, stifling a yawn, and turned to her bag. Alina pulled out an earbud and a hand-held, digital scanner. Plugging the earbud into the scanner, she adjusted the frequency before picking up the binoculars again. She watched as Regina typed away on her laptop, her cell phone next to her on the table. Alina lowered the binoculars again. She would be able to listen to the next call that was made on Regina's phone. She settled down to wait patiently.
Viper was in the middle of sipping her coffee a few minutes later when the scanner in her hand picked up a signal coming from Regina's cell. Setting her coffee down, she glanced at the laptop and saw that the call was outgoing. Viper hooked the earbud into her ear and lifted the binoculars, watching as Regina drummed her long nails on the table, her phone on her ear.
“Hello?” a voice sounded groggy in Viper's ear.
“Leon?” Regina asked, getting up from her chair and starting to pace around her dining room.
“Yeah. Who's this?”
“This is Regina Cummings.” Regina wandered out of the dining room and into the living room. “I need a ride to Miami and I don't want anyone to know I'm going. Are you available to fly me down there?”
“That depends on when you want to go,” Leon answered with a loud yawn. “I have a run to Boston this morning, and I have a client booked to Cali tomorrow afternoon.”
“Tonight?” Regina asked.
“Where do you want to leave from?” Leon asked after a moment of silence.
“Somewhere quiet. Remote,” Regina answered, pausing at the couch and running her finger along the back. “Not one of the usual airports.”
“Hm.” There was a short silence as Leon thought for a moment. “There's Shannon, outside Fredericksburg. I can arrange to fly you out from there later tonight.”
“Wonderful!” Regina exclaimed, spinning around and heading back to the laptop on the table. “What time?”
“Any time after nine tonight.” Leon was yawning again. “Why don't we say nine-thirty to be safe. Is that too late for you?”
“No, that's perfect,” Regina said, sinking down into her chair at the table.
“Ok. Send me the details,” Leon said. “I'll be ready to take-off at nine-thirty tonight.”
“Thanks, Leon.” Regina disconnected and set the phone down on the table.
Across the street on her rooftop, Viper smiled coldly in the dim light of the rising sun and pulled the earbud out of her ear, reaching for her coffee again.
Regina would never see that flight.
“I know you.”
Stephanie made that accusation as she opened the door to the apartment, standing aside so that Michael could step inside out of the hall. Michael smiled and she glanced out into the hallway before closing the door behind him.
“Nice to see you alive and well,” Michael replied, holding out his hand. Stephanie took it, smiling at him warmly.
“I do my best,” she answered, her eyes meeting his. “Where's Damon?”
“He's coming. He wanted to do a sweep of the neighborhood first,” Michael told her, setting his duffel bag down.
He looked at the tall blond man coming towards him from the hallway. He had a badge clipped to his belt and his standard issue in a holster beside it.
“John Smithe?” he asked him and the blond nodded.
“And you are?” John asked.
“Michael O'Reilly.” Michael held out his hand. “I'm with the Secret Service.”
“Oh, you're...” John started to say something as he gripped Michael's hand, but Stephanie cut him off quickly.
“You look half-dead,” she told Michael. “I have coffee in the kitchen. Come on in.”
“Thanks.” Michael glanced at John and turned to follow Stephanie into the kitchen. “Have you guys seen anything? Heard anything?” he asked as she poured coffee into a mug for him.
“Not a thing,” Stephanie answered, handing him the mug. “It's been quiet as a...”
“Don't say it!” John exclaimed from the doorway.
Michael grinned and sipped the black coffee thankfully. They landed in Philly at three and cleared customs by three-thirty. Damon picked up a black SUV at the airport and drove straight to Baltimore, not taking time to stop for breakfast or even coffee. They pulled into the underground parking garage a little after five in the morning and, after satisfying himself that the building was secure, he told Michael which apartment to go to before disappearing to sweep the neighborhood for any obvious signs of surveillance.
“Well, I'm glad about that, at any rate,” Michael told Stephanie. “I don't want to have to explain to your boss that you came down to Washington and got yourself killed.”
“How did you end up coming here with Damon?” John asked, his pale eyes studying Michael.
“It's a very long story,” Michael told him.
“At least you didn't say it was complicated,” John muttered, turning to go back into the living room.
“Don't mind John,” Stephanie said, rolling her eyes. “He's not known for his social graces.”
“Don't make excuses for me,” John called from the living room and Stephanie grinned.
“There is no excuse for you,” she retorted.
Michael carried his coffee into the living room and looked around, taking note of the position of the rooms to the windows and the hallway down to the bedrooms.
“Is this the only door in?” he asked, motioning to the front door.
Stephanie glanced at him and nodded, passing him on her way to the living room.
“Yes,” she said. “No balcony and no trash chute,” she added, sitting next to John on the couch.
Michael nodded and turned to go over to the window in the living room, lifting one of the slats in the shade and peering out. There was a beautiful view out over the harbor, but a sheer drop down to the water. No entry possible there.
“Well, that makes security fairly easy,” he murmured, turning away from the window. “Did Viper arrange for food?”
“Yes.” Stephanie watched as Michael settled himself on the recliner. “The same person brings it each time. Are you still trying to track her down?” she asked.
Michael's hazel green eyes met hers over the rim of his coffee mug.
“She tracked me down,” he replied.
“Is that how you ended up with Damon?” John asked, glancing at him.
Michael sighed. John was like a terrier with a bone.
“No. I was sent to bring him to Washington for questioning,” he answered.
“How did you know where to find him?” Stephanie demanded. “No one's been able to track him or Ali...Viper down in three months,” she corrected herself quickly and Michael's eyes narrowed slightly.
“I think I'll let Damon explain that part,” he said, watching as the front door opened silently behind Stephanie and John. “He seems to have his own ideas as to what should be known and by whom.”
“Of course he does,” John said, sitting back on the couch. “He'll just say that it's complicated.”
“It is.”
Damon spoke directly behind them and Stephanie and John both jumped, turning on the couch to stare up at him. He smiled at them faintly.
“It's very complicated, but I'll tell you if you're sure you want to know.”
“How bad is it?” Stephanie demanded, standing up and facing him.
“No worse than I'm sure you've already guessed,” he answered with a shrug. He glanced at Michael. “What have you told them?”
“Nothing.” Michael grinned. “I was waiting for you. There's coffee in the kitchen,” he added.
Damon nodded and turned to go into the kitchen, but Stephanie beat him there. She got another mug out of the cabinet and turned to pour him coffee.
“You don't have to serve me,” he murmured.
“I know,” she retorted. “How's Alina?”
“She was fine the last time I saw her,” Damon answered shortly.
Stephanie caught the edge to his voice and looked at him sharply.
“Why aren't you with her?” she asked him, lowering her voice.
Damon looked down at her consideringly and Stephanie saw the shadows under his eyes and the grimness about his mouth.
“She decided she didn't need me.”
Hawk heard himself say it before he could think twice. Stephanie studied him for a long moment before smiling slightly.
“Alina needs you more than you know,” she said softly, handing him the mug of coffee. “And more than she knows.”
Damon took the coffee and watched as Stephanie went back into the living room after imparting that little gem of wisdom. He frowned and sipped his coffee thoughtfully before turning and following her.
“Let's start with Viper's file,” John said as Damon carried his coffee over to the window. Like Michael, he lifted one of the slats of the shade and glanced out, looking down to the lapping harbor far below. “You said when you called that her file had been released and that's how they know about this place. Let's start there.”
“It was released Monday morning,” Michael told him.
“Why? How in God's name did it get released?” John demanded with a frown. “I thought it was classified.”
Damon turned from the window and sipped his coffee, his eyes resting on John in amusement.
“It's a long story,” Damon said before Michael could answer.
“That's not an answer,” John retorted.
Michael glanced at Damon and his lips twitched as he saw the glint of pure devilry in his eyes.
“Nevertheless, it's the truth,” Damon replied calmly.
“Dammit Damon, stop baiting him!” Stephanie exclaimed. “Just tell us!” she added when Damon glanced at her, his lips twitching.
“I take it you've been down this road before?” Michael asked Stephanie and she shook her head, rolling her eyes.
“You have no idea,” she muttered.
Michael glanced at Damon with a grin.
“Oh, I think I do,” he murmured.
Damon looked at him and laughed reluctantly. Michael didn't miss much.
“What do you want to know?” Damon asked, leaning his back against the wall next to the window.
“Viper's file,” John said through gritted teeth.
“My agency pressured her agency to release it,” Michael told him.
“How?”
“That's the long story,” Damon murmured, sipping his coffee.
John started to stand up to face Damon and Stephanie grabbed his arm to stop him.
“For God's sake, John!” she exclaimed in exasperation. She looked at Michael beseechingly only to find him fighting back a laugh.
“Will you two just explain what the hell is going on?” she demanded. “We've been locked up here since Saturday, with no idea what's happening, and we're a little cranky. We get a call in the middle of the night telling us that we're no longer in a 'safe' place, and we still have no idea why that is. I don't know where my friend is, whether she's dead or alive, and right now I really don't care about being diplomatic. Forget John. If you guys don't tell me what's going on, I'm going to lose it!”
Michael looked at her, all traces of laughter gone from his face.
“It really is a long, complicated story,” he told her.
Stephanie met his look squarely.
“Then start talking.”
Harry glanced at his watch before walking up to the coffee cart at the side of the path. It was a little before nine and he was early, a habit he still carried over from his days in the field. He ordered a large coffee, looking around while he waited for the vendor to pour it into the travel cup. The sun was shining and the day was clear. A hot breeze blew over his bald head and Harry sighed. He would be glad when fall arrived. The summer heat was wearing on him.
He paid for his coffee and turned away from the cart, securing the lid on the cup before lifting it to his lips. His eyes scanned the people moving through the park. Some were businessmen and women, but most were mothers with jogging strollers. He moved to the side of the path and walked toward a bench a few feet away. Charlie would be right on time, as always. In fact, Harry knew Charlie was probably watching him right now. He settled on the bench and set the coffee next to him, pulling his paper from under his arm and flicking it open with a practiced movement.
“Do you ever actually read the paper?”
Harry glanced up at the man who seemed to have materialized next to him. He grinned and folded the paper closed again.
“Never,” he answered, standing and shaking Charlie's hand.
Charlie grinned back, his brown eyes dancing.
“Neither do I,” he said. “Let's walk.”
Harry nodded and picked up his coffee, falling into step beside the man who had trained next to him years ago. They followed similar paths throughout their careers and when Charlie had advanced to the upper echelons of the agency, Harry had been glad to see him get there. Charlie had the impersonal and dispassionate nature needed to run his section with the kind of success that he had achieved. Harry eventually moved over to the Department of Homeland Security, not because he wanted to, but because Charlie had asked him to. Charlie needed someone he could trust in that agency, and Harry had gone as a personal favor to him.
“How was Peru?” Charlie asked after a few moments of silence.
Harry glanced at him with a grin.
“When did you find out?” he asked.
Charlie tossed him a tolerant smile.
“When your plane left Dulles,” he replied. “I wasn't surprised. As soon as I heard about the price on Hawk's head, I knew she'd do something. I must admit, I didn't expect that she would physically force him to leave. How did she manage it?”
“She drugged him,” Harry answered and Charlie let out a bark of laughter.
“That's my girl,” he chortled. “How did he take it?”
“How do you think?” Harry muttered. “I've never seen Hawk that angry, and I pray to God I never do again.”
Charlie fell silent again and Harry sipped his coffee patiently.
“He's not there anymore,” Charlie finally told him.
“I never expected that he would stay,” Harry admitted. “Where is he?”
“Back in the states.” Charlie moved out of the way of a couple of runners before continuing. “I lost track of them after they landed in Philadelphia, but I would imagine they're either in Baltimore or headed back into Washington.”
“They?”
“Michael O'Reilly went to Peru after him.” Charlie glanced at Harry in time to catch his surprise. He nodded. “Viper was right. The file worked like a charm. They fell right into the trap.”
“Tell me,” Harry said.
“I released a heavily edited, fake file to the Secret Service,” Charlie told him, his voice low. “It's not Viper's real file. She wanted it to be total fiction, but I had to include a few details that could be verified to make it authentic. I added some of her safe houses and a few unimportant mission details. I released it, eyes-only, to three people.”
“Which one passed it on?” Harry demanded.
“Art Cosgrove,” Charlie said. “I've been watching him for a few months now. I had a feeling it would be him. He's been seeing a lot of Regina Cummings lately and, of course, that's where the file ended up.”
“I'm not surprised,” Harry murmured. “We knew it was Ludmere that met with Johann. It makes sense that it would be his assistant that was managing it all.”
“Yes.” Charlie clasped his hands together behind his back as they walked. “Viper knew that the file would lead us to who was responsible.”
“This is a good thing,” Harry said, glancing at Charlie. “So why are you worried?”
“Viper is off radar until this thing is finished,” Charlie said slowly. “I have no way of knowing whether or not there was any additional fall-out from releasing the file. I wasn't happy about doing it, but she seemed sure that it was the only way to prove the leak.”
“She was right,” Harry said, finishing his coffee and dropping it into a trash can. “Now we know their whole network.”
“Regina had you followed, you know. She has a spy in DHS,” Charlie told him. “That's how she knew to send O'Reilly to Peru after Hawk. She's trying to tie up all her loose ends.”
“I've known about her spy for three months now,” Harry replied. “I've been monitoring him. So far, he's been harmless. Are you worried about O'Reilly?”
“I don't know,” Charlie admitted. “I don't think he was in on it, but there's no way to know for sure until Viper wraps it up.”
Harry stopped walking and faced his old friend. Charlie stopped and looked at him.
“Charlie, what has you so worried?” Harry demanded. “We both know Viper and Hawk can handle this. We wouldn't have done this, otherwise. Everything is working out just as we planned. You're worried about something, and it's not them.”
Charlie smiled slightly, his eyes concealed behind his sunglasses.
“You know me too well, my friend,” he murmured. “I'm worried about Ludmere and how we'll handle him. When Viper takes care of the head, we can roll up the body. But Ludmere is rather more than just part of the network. The President will have to be read in on the whole operation.”
“Ah.” Harry turned and started to walk again. “You're worried about what he'll do when he finds out just why Ludmere met with Johann two years ago.”
“Exactly.” Charlie looked up at the blue sky and the green trees arching over the path. “This is a scandal the likes of which the White House has never seen before, and we're going to need to contain it without the country knowing anything. The President will agree with that whole-heartedly.”
“He'll do what needs to be done,” Harry assured Charlie. “And he'll empower you to do what needs to be done on your end. He won't have a choice.”
“I know.” Charlie nodded and looked at Harry. “But how will he react when I tell him the truth? And how the hell am I supposed to tell the President that, on top of everything else, his Vice-President was going to have him assassinated two years ago?”