they were approaching downtown Washington and a small apartment in a run-down area northwest of Union Station.
Matt looked out at the run-down buildings.
“So how are you two feeling?” Elijah said.
“Shaken up and very scared.” Nicole snuggled next to her father. “Tear gas. Guns. And they were so quiet, no loud ratta tat. Were those silencers?”
“Suppressors actually. They keep the noise level down to 40dB. Lower on. 223 calibers, but these were throwing nine mills.”
Nicole stared at him. “At times like this you frighten me, Dad.”
“It’s what drove your mother and me apart.” He turned away.
“Well at this point I’m glad you’re on our side.” Matt slowed down for a traffic light. “Eli. You talked earlier about going to meet someone you trusted…”
“I did talk to him. I told him what we surmise is happening.”
“And?”
“All he said was ‘Thank You’. Which in spook speak means I’d just given him a key piece to a very big puzzle.”
“I have no idea what you are talking about,” said Nicole looking at the father she barely knew. “Anything else?”
“Yes, but its water under the bridge now. There was a stakeout car parked up the street from the house. Guess I don’t have to tell you we’re lucky to be alive.” Eli shook his head and wiped his brow. “I’m too old for this shit.”
“Thanks Dad.” Nicole kissed him on the cheek.
The Hart Senate Building
Senator Stevens spoke quietly into his private cell phone. “Look, this evening is not a good time to meet. I’ve got an important dinner engagement. You know the less we meet the better for everyone concerned.”
“I realize the risks, Senator, but we’ve got a situation that needs your immediate support. I’m having a function at the Embassy this evening. Why don’t you stop by for a quick drink on the way to your dinner? It shouldn’t take long.”
“Can’t we just deal with it here and now? Obviously you people have screwed up again.”
“Actually, it’s good news. Our problems were eliminated in a freak explosion caused by a gas leak. The contractors got caught in the blast as well. I just need a little support from you to put a lid on anything the fire department or police may find in the rubble. It wouldn’t do for too many people to be asking questions.”
“I’ll get on it right away. It’s about time you got something right. I’ll be there at 7:15.” The Senator snapped his cell phone closed and chuckled.
Potomac, Maryland
Nicole nudged him. “Ring the doorbell, Matt, we’re committed now.” They stood in front of the large double doors of Dr. Thomas’s Potomac residence. Matt felt odd coming back here again. This was where it all started. The reception for Dr. Melikian, the accident, Kelly’s death, and everything else.
He pressed the buzzer. The door opened right away, taking them by surprise. A butler stood before them. “Yes?”
“Dr. Thomas is expecting me. I’m Dr. Wilson Richards and this is Ms. Nicole Delacluse.”
“Yes sir. This way, please.” The elderly butler led them into Dr. Thomas’s library and took their coats. “I’ll announce your arrival. Dr. Thomas is taking a phone call at the moment. It shouldn’t be too long. Would you care for tea or coffee while you’re waiting?”
“Coffee please.” Matt glanced around where several weeks ago he punched Senator Stevens, breaking his nose and knocking out several teeth. He rubbed his hand unconsciously. Photos of Dr. Martin J. Thomas with various dignitaries, including heads of state and former Presidents filled the desk and coffee table. Floor-to-ceiling bookcases offered elegant bindings. A diploma from Yale University held the place of honor on the wall behind a carved Jeffersonian desk.
The butler returned with a silver coffee service. “Dr. Thomas will be right down.” He departed with a quick bow.
Nicole poured two cups of coffee. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said as the spoon slipped from her hand and dropped on the carpet. Bending down to retrieve it she deftly placed the small listening device Eli had given her on the underside of Dr. Thomas’ desk.
A few moments later the door opened. Nicole turned around, spoon in hand. Dr. Martin Thomas walked in. As soon as he saw his visitors, he stopped. “You’re not Wilson Richards.”
“No, sir. I’m not.”
“Just what are you doing here – both of you?”
“Dr. Thomas, listen to me carefully. We don’t mean you any harm and I regret the subterfuge in coming here but you must hear me out. And the truth may be little hard to take.”
Dr. Thomas stood still and watched them. “Try me.”
“Very well. My name is Matthew Richards. Dr. Matthew Richards.”
“That’s preposterous. I know Matt Richards.”
“Look at the scars on his face, Dr. Thomas,” Nicole said, pleading.
“What?”
“The scars around his hairline. He’s been given a face transplant.”
Matt nodded. “Go ahead, Dr. Thomas. It really is me.”
Martin Thomas hesitated then stepped forward and examined Matt’s hairline. “Dear God. What…? Who…?”
“It’s a full face transplant, sir. They did it to me just after the party you held for Dr. Mekikian’s appointment. After I was reported dead.”
“You were killed in a car crash with Senator Stevens’ daughter that night. How…?” Dr. Thomas slowly lowered himself into an armchair, still staring at Matt.
“I was kidnapped, reported as dead, and given this new face.” Matt sat in the opposite facing chair.
Dr. Thomas stared. “This doesn’t mean you are Matthew Richards. It only proves you have a new face.”
Matt laughed. A look of bewilderment spread across Dr. Thomas’ face. “Okay. Fair enough. How about this? I was at the reception for Dr. Melikian. You and I spoke briefly in the receiving line. You asked about my father and then said you were sorry to hear about the death of my brother, Sam. Later that evening I flattened Senator Stevens, right here in this room and left with his daughter.”
Dr. Thomas nodded thoughtfully.
“And remember the time I came to your office at AUB asking for advice about medical school? You told me that just because I came from a long line of prominent physicians that was no guarantee it was the life for me. You said a person had to have the calling, it was in their blood, otherwise they wouldn’t be happy with such a demanding career.” Matt smiled ruefully. “I should have listened to your advice, Dr. Thomas. I didn’t turn out to be a very good physician.”
“What are you thinking, Dr. Thomas?” asked Nicole.
“I’m thinking about the transplant and the stitches and how the healing process would fit into the time frame. It fits.” He looked from Nicole to Matt. “What have they done to you? And why?”
“Are you ready for more hard news?”
“Can I have some coffee first?” Nicole handed him a cup. “Okay, what next?”
“Whoever did this to me believes there is a terrorist cell here in Washington actively plotting to kill the President and that one or more of the students we both knew during that year at AUB are involved.”
“The suicide bomber that killed Dr. Norman…?”
