“We need to contact this Morris. We can’t continue without professional help. I know Dad’s working on something-he’s going to need our cooperation with the authorities. Please, can’t we get help?” Sarah implored.
“Sarah, we’ve discussed this,” he replied emphatically. “I can’t turn myself in! I’m not going to jail while Jer’s missing. God only knows how long it would take to get me out…by then it could be too late. Please don’t ask me to do that, Sarah.”
“Ryan, I didn’t mean for you to give up,” she explained. “But we need to call Morris. The police need to know Jarrod’s suspicion about a plan for the machine. It may mean something…maybe the police can set up roadblocks, who knows? I’m going to call them, Ryan. This is too big for us to handle alone,” she said, determined to have her way.
“Alright, you win. But don’t give them our location,” he said, watching as she fished her cell phone from an oversized purse. “They’re going to demand you turn us in…you know that. And remember, Jarrod said they could trace us with the cell phone, so shut it down as quickly as possible.”
“I’ll only tell them about Jarrod’s last message, I promise. I’m still behind our plan, but we need every available resource.”
Sarah made the call to the Palo Alto police and was connected to Lieutenant David Morris. She provided a full accounting of everything she’d heard from Jarrod, carefully deflecting his warning that she and Ryan immediately turn themselves in. She asked about Sela, and Morris confirmed that she, too, had been abducted, presumably by the same men.
“There’s a world of hurt coming down on these guys, Mrs. Marshall,” he told her. “These are very dangerous men. Please don’t compromise your safety or our ability to solve this case. Let us handle the situation.”
Sarah promised to stay in touch, but nothing more. She then terminated the call and removed the battery from her iPhone, confident she had accomplished Jarrod’s instructions.
As they were leaving the Chevron station, Sarah recognized a Catholic church by the cross prominently displayed high atop a steeple. She crossed herself and closed her eyes, praying that the path that lay ahead would lead them to rescue their missing son, Sela, and Jarrod Conrad.
FORTY-THREE
Washington, D.C.
09:00 HOURS
Under the best of times, passing through security at the Hart Building was an arduous effort, but never more so than when entering the U.S. Senate offices outside the customary hours of operation. Before admittance it was mandatory for everyone to step through ultrasensitive metal detectors and send all purses or briefcases through an X-ray device. But anyone accessing the building outside normal business hours between 8:00 a.m. and 8:00 p.m. was required to answer a battery of additional questions explaining the necessity for entry. Ever since the much-publicized anthrax letter in 2003, entry to all congressional offices was under very tight security.
Ben Dare had called each of the senator’s staff and ordered that they get to the office immediately; he didn’t explain the particulars, except to say their presence was required for a matter of utmost urgency. He arrived at the Hart Building just before 8:00 a.m. and explained to the lead security officer that his entry was imperative. He confided that while he wasn’t at liberty to disclose the urgent matter that required the staff’s early presence, he gave assurance that they would shortly receive an official memo explaining the breach in protocol.
Senator Alfonse Coscarelli arrived shortly before nine and was indignant that security demanded an explanation for his staff’s early arrival. He informed them that a family matter was the cause, and his chief of staff would be preparing the requisite documentation, including an official account as security stipulated. When he finally entered his office, he called Ben for a briefing on the status of efforts to find Sela and Jeremiah.
“Ben, can you give me an update?” he asked, using the intercom that linked their two offices. He slumped behind his ornate desk, feeling weary and disoriented.
“Good morning, sir,” Ben replied. Promptly entering the senator’s office, he was shocked by the strain etched on his boss’s face. He had never seen the senator look more disheveled. Alfonse took pride in his appearance, believing the office he held demanded strict attention to superlative sartorial decorum, but the news of the kidnappings had evidently superseded this habitual propriety.
“Please come in, Ben,” Alfonse invited, lacking his customary gusto.
Ben glanced at his notes to see where to begin. “First, you’ll want to know that Charles Vickers will be here any moment. Emerson Palmer has also agreed to look into the case. He’ll be able to address your questions about the cleaners.
“All the staff’s assembled in case we need anything at all,” he continued, trying to anticipate the senator’s questions. “Everyone’s been briefed about the personal nature of the problem and has sworn to keep everything that happens today strictly confidential. Any media calls will be directed to me. LaDonna is also preparing a statement for your approval. Is there anything else you immediately want to know, Senator?”
Al was massaging his forehead, fighting a nasty headache. “Yes, Ben…explain what we’re doing about Sela?”
“We’ve contacted the DC Metro Police and filed a missing persons report. So far no one at Johns Hopkins has heard anything from anyone demanding ransom or otherwise. We don’t have any leads at the moment, sir. The police visited her home and although the front door was smashed in, everything else appeared normal. There was no evidence inside suggesting a physical altercation. That’s good news, Senator. At least we think Sela’s okay.”
“None of this is good news from where I sit, Ben. I appreciate everything you’ve done, but damnit…I want better answers than this. Is that all Sarah could give you last night?” Al asked, looking uncharacteristically harried.
“Yes, sir, I’m afraid so,” Ben said apologetically, feeling ineffective. “We’ll know more as the day progresses. At some point, the kidnappers will make contact with ransom demands and we can formulate a response. I know this is difficult, sir, but the authorities need time to gather evidence. The people responsible will eventually make a mistake, and when they do our guys will be there.”
At that moment LaDonna entered the office and announced that Director Charles Vickers had arrived. Ben asked that she not keep the Director waiting.
Vickers was a portly, balding man of tall stature, which seemed odd for the director of the Secret Service. The stereotypical agent was usually in excellent physical shape, of medium build, with a full head of closely cut hair. But Agent Vickers was an anomaly. He was a veteran of the service, having served in the Reagan, Bush, and Clinton administrations. Vickers was a young agent when President Ronald Reagan had been shot by John Hinkley, Jr. coming out of the Washington Hilton Hotel in May of 1981. He steadily rose through the ranks and finally landed the top government job charged with protecting the president of the United States. Vickers was known as a no- nonsense agent with a low tolerance for superfluous meetings that wasted his time. His presence meant that he considered the senator’s problem significant enough for him to personally respond.
“Good morning, Director Vickers,” the senator said crossing in front of his desk to shake hands as he entered. “I appreciate you responding on such short notice.”
“Not at all, Senator. I’m happy to be of service. Sorry to hear about your daughter.”
“Well, let’s get right to it then,” Alfonse said. “Under the circumstances, what can you do for me? I understand your authority is limited to providing security for the president, but is there anything you can do to help locate my daughter and grandson?”
“I’m sorry, sir. You understand correctly that my power is centrally focused on the executive branch. I don’t have much latitude to investigate anything beyond this very limited scope,” Director Vickers said, folding his arms across his chest, looking somewhat defensive. “However we do routinely work with local law enforcement and I don’t see any reason we wouldn’t do that in this case. I’ve assigned a couple of agents to follow up with the authorities investigating your daughter’s disappearance, and I’ll do the same with the authorities in California. But I regret to inform you that the service’s involvement will be limited only to inquiries, Senator. I wish I could be of
