Anne hurried to the conference room where the NSC meeting would take place. A Secret Service agent was in the room with a K-9.
The dog had its nose to the floor, sniffing. After a complete circuit of the room, the Secret Service guy nodded toward Terrence Tully, the conference room facilitator, who stood in the corner. “It’s all yours.” And the agent left.
“Hey, Terrence.” Anne smiled. “How’ve you been?”
He moved about the room straightening chairs and setting out water glasses for the attendees. “Good. You?”
“Great,” she answered, lying through her teeth. Anne laid a paper copy of the agenda on the conference table in front of each chair.
“Long agenda today?” Terrence asked.
“The usual,” Anne responded. “Missed you at the last meeting.”
He shrugged. “I’ve been traveling a little. Had to burn some use-or-lose vacation.”
She nodded, familiar with the life of a staffer at the White House. Too often they lost vacation time because they couldn’t take the time off. Or, in her case, had no reason to take the time off.
Alone since her husband’s death, she had no desire to travel. Without someone to share the beauty of the places visited, there didn’t seem to be a point.
Her thoughts drifted to Jack. Traveling with him could be fun. She could imagine lazing on a beach beside him, soaking up the sun. Or hiking a mountain trail in Colorado.
Shaun stuck his head in the door. “It’s almost time. POTUS is on his way.”
Her heart skipped several beats and she stepped to the door where Shaun stood. “Let me know if you need anything. I’ll be in my office.”
Shaun’s eyes narrowed. “No, you won’t.”
Anne frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You’re staying here. I want you here. You’ll stand in the back of the room in case I need you to answer any questions.”
“Are you sure?” Anne asked.
“Absolutely. Unless you had other plans.”
If anything was going to happen that day, the target had to be the National Security Council meeting, where all the key players were present. Again, she worried that she should have warned the Secret Service of the potential attack. At the very least, she would be in attendance, watching for any preemptive signs from any of the staff or supporting staff. She could be there to help get people out, if things went south.
Anne squared her shoulders. “I’d be honored to attend.”
“Good, because it’s time.”
The vice president arrived, followed by the secretary of state, secretary of defense, secretary of treasury, director of national intelligence, director for Europe and Russia, the director for Asia, director of foreign policy and others.
Anne moved to the back of the room, out of the way, as the advisors to the president assembled in the room and stood behind a chair, waiting for the president. Each person wore his best suit, and was clean-shaven and perfectly coifed.
A Secret Service agent entered the room first.
The vice president stood at attention and announced, “Ladies and gentlemen, the president of the United States.”
Everyone stood at attention as the chief executive walked in and took his position at the head of the conference table. “Please, take a seat,” he said.
The meeting began with reports from the various advisors as they worked their way down the agenda. When they reached Chris Carpenter’s agenda item on Russian sanctions, Anne tensed.
Chris cleared his throat and plunged in. “As you are aware, the Russian bombing of a base in Syria was investigated and found to be deliberate and catastrophic, with over three hundred civilian casualties and twice that many injuries. The Russian president has no comment. We stood by while Russia waged war on Crimea without lifting a finger. I move that we, as a nation, impose sanctions on Russia until they cease waging war on civilians.”
Immediately, the other members of the National Security Council jumped in, everyone talking at once.
“One bombing is not sufficient grounds to impose sanctions,” Anne’s boss said.
“Maybe not, but how about Russia allowing one of its largest state-owned pharmaceutical companies to secretly test drugs on human subjects in Syria?” Chris’s comment was met with stunned silence.
Anne held her breath, wanting to jump in with what she knew. She waited for Chris to explain his statement.
“As you all are aware, a member of my staff was injured by a hit-and-run driver in the street right outside this compound. You could put it down to an accident, but I say it was deliberate. She had just met with Dr. Schuster, who I’ve asked to join us today.” He waved a hand toward the director for Europe and Russia. “Dr. Schuster, what did you share with Dr. Saunders?”
Dr. Schuster nodded toward the screen on the wall. “If you could bring up the image...”
The screen flickered and the grainy image of the Russian aid worker came into focus. “Our ambassador in Russia received a communication from this man, whom we later identified as Aleksandr Orlov, a Russian aid worker deployed to a small Syrian village, where he was supposedly giving regular vaccines to the local population. The World Health Organization has since found that the vaccine administered was a drug called XC-16, designed to eliminate cancer.”
Anne held her breath. This was exactly what they’d discovered.
“The drug had only been tested on mice and found to be unstable and potentially dangerous. If released, it could decimate a population.” He waved toward the image on the screen. “That entire village and the Russian aid workers are dead. Given the company that sent the drug to Syria is owned by the Russian government, we contend the Russians knew the potential harm and still tested it on humans, without getting their consent or informing them of what they were getting into. The vaccines were probably passed off as something innocuous, like the ones for measles, mumps and rubella. We can’t know, since the entire population of that village is unable to answer questions.”
“That, Mr. President,” Chris said, “along with the bombing and the crimes against Crimea, are sufficient justification to impose sanctions on Russia.”
The president glanced around the room at his advisors. “Although I agree the charges are egregious, imposing sanctions against Russia is a big step with lingering ramifications.” He looked around the room at his other advisors. “How many of you agree with Mr. Carpenter’s proposal?”
Anne looked at the faces of those present, trying to read into their expressions.
“Sanctions could disrupt the balance of power throughout Europe,” the secretary of state said. “Many Europeans rely on the Russians for many of their products and there are many US corporations that would suffer if they were unable to do business with Russia.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Terrence back into a corner, close his eyes and cover his ears.
Alarmed, Anne turned to face him when an explosion rocked the building and sent her crashing to her knees.
People yelled, women screamed, chaos ensued.
The president’s bodyguards scooped him out of his chair and rushed him from the room.
The remaining members of the council scrambled from their chairs and ran for the door.
A Secret Service agent grabbed the vice president’s arms and hurried him toward the exit.
“Ms. Bellamy, come with me.” Terrence Tully gripped her arm and helped her to her feet. “We have to get to somewhere safe.”
Shaken and disoriented, her ears ringing from the concussion caused by the explosion, Anne let him guide her toward the door, following the vice president and his bodyguard.
They ran down the hallway and entered another door that led to another, and finally ended up at a side door marked Emergency Exit Only.
They burst through, out into the open, near a street.
Sirens wailed, emergency vehicles screamed around corners in the distance and people ran from the building.
Once outside, Anne slowed, digging her feet into the soft ground. “Wait. We have to help the others out of the building.”
“No, we don’t.” Tully bent, slung her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry and ran toward a white van.
Anne, her ears still ringing and her world turned upside down, fought to free herself of his hold. “Let me down!” she yelled.
Her cries could barely be heard over the wailing sirens converging on the White House. Anne screamed louder when she caught a glimpse of a Secret Service man angling toward the van, with a gun held to the vice president’s head.
The man shoved the vice president alongside Terrence.
“Let us go!” Anne shouted. “You can’t get away with this. That’s the vice president of the United States.”
Tully didn’t answer, just carried her to the van.
The door opened before they reached it and a man jumped out.
As Tully stood her upright, the man from the van slung a large gunnysack over her head, trapping her arms inside.
Anne jerked free of his hands and ran. Unable to see, she tripped and fell,
Someone landed on her back, knocking the air from her lungs.
She fought, kicked and yelled for help, but no one came.
Again, she was lifted off her feet, then deposited on the floor of the van. The sound of the door sliding made Anne twist and struggle against the sack. She rolled to the side and ran into something hard and unmoving. The door slammed closed and she had no way to escape.
JACK HAD BEEN pacing in Anne’s office when the explosion sent him sprawling against the tile floor. He rolled to his feet and ran toward the offices, touching a finger to his earbud. “Declan, did you hear that?”
“Roger. Tourists are being ushered out. I tried to dodge the security staff, but there’s no getting by. We’re heading out on the White House lawn.”
“Mustang?” Jack queried as he pushed through the rush of people running for the exit.
“Still in the West Wing,” Mustang said in Jack’s ear. “Secret Service is herding people out. I’ve managed to duck them by hiding in a closet.”
“Gus?” Jack murmured as he passed several of the men and women that were scheduled to be in the NSC meeting.
For a long moment, Gus didn’t answer.
Jack listened for Gus’s response, worry eating at him when he didn’t see Anne among those rushing down the corridor from the conference room where the meeting was to be held.
“Gus?” Declan queried.
“Sorry,” Gus said, the sound of heavy breathing coming through the connection. “I’m sitting on the guy who set off the explosion. Caught him with his hand on the detonator, dressed as Secret Service personnel.”
“Jack,” Declan said into Jack’s ear. “What about Ms. Bellamy?”
Jack arrived at the door to the designated conference room. Everyone had made it out. The room was empty. “I’m here. In the room they were supposed to meet. No president. No vice president...” His stomach sank as he made a clean sweep of the room. “No Anne.”
“Did you give her the earbud?”
Jack exited the conference room and ran in the opposite direction from where he’d come. “I did. Bringing up the GPS on my phone now.” Thank God, the earbuds were also equipped with a GPS tracking device. As long as she didn’t lose it, they could find her.
Still dashing down the corridor, searching every room along the way, Jack brought up the application on his cell phone and held his breath, waiting for the reassuring green dot to appear on the map grid.
When it did, he stopped running. “Damn.” His pulse pounded so hard he couldn’t hear himself think and his knees grew weak.
“What?” Declan’s voice came through as if in a tunnel.
“She’s not even in the building.”
“Not in the building?”
“No.” Jack performed an about-face and ran back through the corridors of the West Wing. “She must be in a vehicle, because she’s moving quickly through the streets, heading for the highway.”
“We’re almost to the exit of the West Wing,” Declan said. “Meet you there.”
“Arnold?” Jack said. “Can you make it to the street with all the emergency personnel in the way?”
Arnold gave them a location a couple of blocks away.
Jack caught up with Mustang on his way out of the building. They were delayed briefly by the Secret Service staff but made it out to find Declan, Cole and Mack waiting for them.
“Gus is staying to make sure his guy doesn’t get lost in the shuffle. Needless to say, the man isn’t talking. Gus said he had the Trinity tattoo on the inside of his wrist, beneath the watch he wore. He’s definitely one of the sleepers.”
Jack didn’t wait around to ask or answer questions; he took off at a sprint, pushing past people who stood on the streets, staring at the White House, wondering what had happened. He didn’t have time to stop and fill them in. Anne was moving farther away by the second. If they didn’t catch up with her soon...
He couldn’t think what would happen to her if they discovered she had a tracker on her. Hell, even if they didn’t, what were their plans for the White House staffer?
Jack was first to arrive at the corner where Arnold was just pulling to a stop.
He jumped into the front passenger seat.
Declan, Mack, Cole and Mustang dove into the back seats of the big SUV.
“Go! Go! Go!” Jack urged. He held his phone in front of him, watching as the green light crossed the Potomac into Arlington. “They’re getting away.”
Declan leaned over the back of Jack’s seat and touched a hand to his shoulder. “Not as long as she has that tracker on her.”
Jack’s heartbeat slammed against his chest. He willed the SUV to move faster, but the traffic held them at nearly a standstill. They inched forward, crawling through downtown toward the 14th Street bridge. Once they reached the major highway, they would gain some speed. In the meantime, Anne’s signal showed them blowing through Arlington, heading west.
A call came through on his phone from their informer.
Though he didn’t want to switch applications, Jack had to.
“Go ahead,” Declan said. “I’ve got Anne’s tracker up on my phone now.”
Jack answered the call.
“Did everyone make it out?” The voice he recognized from the movie theater sounded in Jack’s ear.
“No,” Jack gritted out. “Someone has Anne. We have them on a tracker, but we don’t know how long it will be before they figure out she has one. They’re heading into Virginia.”
“On my way,” she said.
Jack gave her the route they’d taken and the direction the tracker was headed.
“I’ll catch up,” she said. “Let me know if things change. You can reach me at this number for now.”
Jack wanted to throw the phone out the window, he was so mad at the woman for putting Anne at risk.
Anne didn’t have a cell phone on her. She wouldn’t be able to call them. If they were going to use her to negotiate a trade for their informant, how were they going to get in touch? And would their defector agree to the trade to save Anne’s life?
She by God better. The Trinity-trained woman was in a much better position to defend herself than Anne. Anne didn’t have any skills in self-defense, a situation Jack promised he would remedy as soon as he got her back.
Assuming they got her back alive...
He couldn’t think that way. Anne was a fighter, even if she didn’t have combat skills. She was smart and could figure out a way to survive. She was strong and determined.
Jack brought up the tracking application and held his breath until the green light appeared again. They had to get to her before anything bad happened. And when they did save her, it was all on for bringing down Trinity. No organization should be able to pick off someone like Anne, just because she’d had contact with one of their defectors. And no covert organization should be able to infiltrate the US government so thoroughly. Trinity had to be stopped.
Arnold proved to be an excellent driver, weaving his way in and out of traffic, slowly closing the gap between them and Anne’s location. At the rate they were gaining, they might actually catch up to them before they pulled off the main road. As it was, the goons were only ten miles ahead of them.
As long as the police didn’t try to pull Arnold over for exceeding the speed limit by thirty miles an hour, they had a chance.
Jack leaned forward in his seat, willing the SUV to go faster. At some points, they were flying down the interstate at over one hundred miles per hour. Already, they were a danger to other vehicles on the road.
Arnold handled the vehicle like a professional race car driver, cool, calm and collected. It was just as well he was doing the driving. Jack was anything but calm and composed.
Five miles between them. Five miles away from Anne. They had to catch up to them before they turned off onto smaller roads. That would slow their speed significantly and make it harder for them to catch up.
If anything horrible happened to Anne...
No, he couldn’t think that way. He couldn’t allow his past to shape his future with Anne. For her sake, he had to let those thoughts go or he wouldn’t be effective. And she needed him at the top of his game, not dragged down by memories. He was more than capable of finding her and helping her. And meting out justice to her abductors.
Jack shook his head. The black cloud that hung over him could not affect her. She would not be the fourth victim of his bad luck.
His mother’s death had been because of the cancer.
Not him.
Kylie had been a victim of a shooter.
Not Jack’s bad luck.
And Jennifer, the nurse he’d met while deployed, had died because of an IED explosion.
None of those had anything to do with the fact he’d loved them. None. Of. Those.
Then why did he feel he was responsible for their deaths? He was the one factor in common with those three women. He’d loved them. And he was falling in love with Anne. Holy hell. He was falling in love with her.
His chest was so tight he could barely breathe.
The vehicle they were following was now only three miles ahead of them. Then two.
“Go, go, go,” Jack murmured. Slowly, the distance reduced until only one mile of road stood between him and Anne.
Jack stared ahead, his gaze searching the vehicles in the distance. Which one was Anne in? Then he saw it.
A white van hogging the left lane swerved right and left, trapped between the vehicle in front of him and the one in the right-hand lane.
“There.” Jack pointed. “That has to be them.” He looked down at his phone.
The car in the right lane exited the highway.
The white van whipped into the right lane and sped past a truck that had been blocking the left lane.
Arnold increased his speed.
As they approached the truck, it moved to the right lane.
Arnold passed it and caught up to the white van.
“That’s them,” Jack said, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Now what?”