“Sure, Mr. Tarnwell, anything.”
“Once you have the item you are receiving from Erica Jensen tomorrow, never take your eyes off of it or David. I’m trusting you to make sure it gets back to me safely. It contains something that will make us all very wealthy, you included. This will be the most important job you’ve ever had. Don’t let anything stop you from getting that notebook to me. Do whatever it takes, I mean anything. Are you up for that?”
“You pay the bills.”
“Good,” Tarnwell said. “I’m looking forward to seeing you tomorrow.”
Sensing that Tarnwell was finished with him, Bern left.
Tarnwell turned the cigar over in his fingers, treating himself to one more relaxing moment. In less than 24 hours, moments like these would be few. Even with the Adamas process, it would be hard work becoming the richest man in the world.
After an almost sleepless night tied to a four-poster bed, Kevin’s muscles ached, and his eyes were gummed from sleeping two straight nights without removing his contacts. At 6:00 in the morning, Richard Bern loosened his bonds. Bern was uncharacteristically dressed in gray sweatpants and a blue, hooded sweatshirt. He led Kevin to a different bathroom, but this time Kevin was afforded no privacy. The door remained open while he urinated.
He was given water but no breakfast. Kevin tried to suppress his growling stomach. He wasn’t sure, but he thought he could hear Bern chuckling behind him as they walked downstairs and into the library.
Lobec stood as Kevin and Bern entered the room. He was already dressed, but like Bern, did not wear a suit. Instead, he wore jogging shorts, a long-sleeved cotton pullover, and an Orioles baseball cap.
“I hope you slept well despite the conditions,” Lobec said.
Kevin had caught a glance at himself in the upstairs mirror and knew he looked like hell.
“Where’s Tarnwell? Doesn’t he want to join in on the fun, too?”
“Mr. Tarnwell had some business at the Capitol this morning. He’s quite involved in fund raising.” He looked at his watch. “Are you ready to meet Miss Jensen?”
“I don’t have much choice, do I?”
“Of course not.”
Lobec nodded at Bern, who cuffed Kevin’s hands in front of him. The three of them went outside to a Ford waiting for them at the mansion entrance. Franco was in the driver’s seat.
“Just the four of us?” said Kevin as they pulled away from the house. “I would have thought you’d bring the whole goon squad.”
“Mr. Francowiak will be dropping us off. There is no reason to upset Miss Jensen unnecessarily with a large contingent.” Even though Kevin couldn’t tell from the smooth voice, he knew Lobec was lying. Lobec probably already had men stationed around the bridge, waiting to tell him when Erica arrived.
Forty minutes later, Franco stopped at the eastern side of the Arlington National Cemetery. It was a ten minute walk to the bridge.
As Bern dragged him from the car, Kevin said, “So what’s the plan?”
“We will escort you to the middle of the bridge,” said Lobec, “where Miss Jensen should be waiting for us. She will leave the notebook and videotape on the sidewalk and you will be free to go.”
Kevin withheld a contemptuous chuckle and held up his cuffed hands. “Can I at least get these off?”
“I don’t think so. You have already shown a penchant for causing trouble. I will release your hands before we make the exchange.”
Bern pulled the hood over his head, and they began walking toward the Arlington Memorial Bridge. The western face of the Lincoln Memorial was still in shadows, and in the distance Kevin could see the Washington Monument and Capitol. They climbed down the incline, crossed a busy interchange, and walked onto the north side of the bridge.
The bridge was essentially a six-lane road with fifteen-foot-wide sidewalks on both sides. Cement railings lined the edge, with lamps embedded in square pillars every twenty feet. The half-mile span arched over the Potomac 75 feet below. A fine mist rose from the river’s placid surface, and the rising sun cast long shadows across the water.
As Kevin expected, several early morning exercisers jogged or biked across the bridge. Traffic was brisk, but not heavy. That would change nearer to 8:00, especially on the other side, where traffic was going from the Virginia suburbs into the District. No cars were allowed to park on the bridge at any time, which was probably why Lobec had agreed to the location. There was nowhere for the police to observe the transaction without being obvious.
That left only two ways for Erica to meet them. She could either pull up in a car and leave it for a few seconds while they made the trade, or she could walk. He didn’t like either scenario. Lobec and Bern could easily force themselves into a car with him and Erica. And if she walked, they had to trust Lobec to let them get to the end of the bridge and whatever mode of transportation she had waiting. After the past two days, Kevin trusted Lobec about as much as he’d trust a weasel in a hamster-laden Habitrail.
They reached the center of the bridge and stopped next to a cement pillar. They stood facing traffic, scanning both directions. Kevin looked at his watch. It was 6:57.
From a distance, it was difficult to tell one walker from another, and Lobec and Bern had several false starts when they saw lone women coming toward them. When they realized they were mistaken, they relaxed and began scanning again.
The traffic heading toward Virginia suddenly stopped, blocked by a cab that had come to a halt about 100 yards past them. A single woman got out, looked both directions, and began walking toward them.
Kevin had trouble seeing her face through his dirty contacts. The tall, slender form matched Erica’s height, but her hair did not cascade over her shoulders as Erica’s did. The woman wore a T-shirt and shorts and carried a bag at her side.
Despite his blurred vision, Kevin had no doubt. The distinctive, purposeful stride and long legs gave her away. It was Erica.
On her cab ride from the L’Enfant Plaza Metro station, Erica had been careful to look out for any signs that she was being followed. In fact, for the last day and a half, she’d carried out an almost paranoid observation of her surroundings. If Kevin’s abductors knew what she was about to try, it would certainly fail.
Up ahead, Kevin made no sign that he recognized her. She couldn’t see the two men behind him clearly. One wore sunglasses and a baseball cap and the other’s head was covered by a hood. She guessed that they were the same two that had kidnapped Kevin from the parking lot at Virginia Tech.
Erica didn’t see anyone else, but that only made her more nervous. She knew they had to be around somewhere and thought of all the cliches. A parked car with a man reading a newspaper, a sidewalk vendor, a jogger taking a slow walk to cool down. But as far as she could tell, there was no one else around besides the normal traffic. She didn’t like it.
She walked slowly toward them, trying to detect any unusual movement in her periphery. Footsteps pounded behind her. She clutched the bag close to her chest and whirled around to see a sixty-year-old woman focusing on the ground as she jogged past Erica. Erica tried to calm herself and continued toward the middle of the bridge.
When she was fifty feet from Kevin and his escorts, she moved toward the side of the bridge and held the bag over the railing as she walked. It was a concrete railing about a foot wide and at shoulder level, so Erica had to stay close to the edge with her arm outstretched. Inside the bag was a kayaking pack she’d bought yesterday at an outdoor store. She’d wrapped the pack in a canvas bag to hide the fact that it was waterproof.
Thirty feet away from Kevin, she stopped. She could tell from this distance that she was right about the men’s identities. Barnett and Kaplan. Barnett was in jogging shorts and a cap, and Kaplan’s bulky frame looked at home in the sweatpants and sweatshirt he wore. She could also see that Kevin’s hands were cuffed in front of him. They shoved him and began to walk toward her.
“Don’t come any closer, Barnett, or whatever the hell your name is,” Erica said, shaking the bag. “I’ll drop the notebook in the river.”
“If you must know, Miss Jensen, my name is David Lobec. To my left is Richard Bern. How do I know you that you have what I want in that bag.” Lobec held a pistol to Kevin’s right, out of sight of the passing traffic.
“First, I want to know if Kevin’s all right.”
