stopped.
“Okay,” Stone whispered. “The alarm’s off, so we can open the back door.”
Reuben did so as quietly as possible, even as they heard a set of footsteps coming their way. They bolted out of the house, shutting the door behind them, and turned the corner of the house.
And ran right into Warren Peters, who was pulling a trash can back behind the house.
“What the hell—” was as far as Peters got before Reuben’s massive fist sent the NIC man flying head over heels backward. Stone and Reuben ran for the motorcycle. They were on it and Reuben had kick-started the bike to life when Reinke, hearing all the commotion, came flying out of the house.
He spotted Stone and Reuben, and his hand went inside his jacket as he ran forward. He had a clear line to shoot. What he didn’t count on was a rusted Malibu going partially airborne driven by a crazed rare book specialist with a terrified OCD genius counting madly in the copilot’s seat.
“Holy mother of God!” Milton screamed as Reinke went flying across the windshield, rolled off and landed in a heap in the grass. Then Milton resumed his ritual counting.
Peters had staggered to his feet by this time. However, Caleb, his mind and body seemingly possessed by the spirit of a youthful daredevil, rammed the Malibu into reverse, put the gas pedal to the floor and sped backward, the wheels spitting gravel like machine-gun bullets.
Peters screamed as the car bore down on him. He got off one shot and dove out of the way. He was coming up for another attempt when the motorcycle flew past him. As Reuben drove, Stone was sitting on the lip of the sidecar swinging his helmet by the strap. It caught Peters on the side of the head, and he went down for the count.
It was a full ten minutes before Peters and Reinke began to stir. By the time they had regained consciousness, the Camel Club was long gone.
CHAPTER
46
THE AUTHORITIES’ RESPONSE TO what had happened to Alex Ford and Kate Adams was not exactly encouraging. According to the police the brake line seemed to have popped all by itself. Not unusual for a vehicle that old, the police said. And there was no evidence of any shooter at Kate Adams’ home, other than what Alex had said he’d seen and heard. Two of his bullets were found embedded in the fence behind where he shot. No other slugs were recovered.
It was the next morning, and Alex was sitting in Jerry Sykes’ office listening to the official version of last night’s event.
Sykes stopped pacing and looked at him. “The people who tried to help you after your ‘accident’ reported you were acting in a bizarre manner and then you took off running. Alex, all this crap just isn’t like you. Is there something going on in your life you want to talk about?”
“Absolutely nothing other than someone wanting me dead,” Alex said stonily.
Sykes dropped into his chair and picked up a mug of coffee. “Why in the hell would anyone want you dead?”
“Some guy put a freaking gun to my head, Jerry. I didn’t take the time to ask him why.”
“And nobody saw this guy except you. So again, I’m asking you what happened between yesterday and today to make somebody want you dead?”
Alex hesitated. He wanted to tell Sykes about the discovery of the boat but figured that admitting he’d disobeyed another order from the director would be the end of his career.
“I’ve got a lot of years of damn good service behind me. Why all of a sudden would I start making this sort of crap up?”
“You put your finger on it. You’ve put in a lot of years. The director cut you a break yesterday. He could’ve canned your ass on the spot. Hell, I probably would’ve if I’d been in his shoes. Don’t blow a gift from the top, Alex. You’re not getting another one.”
“Fine, but can you at least put someone on Kate Adams’ house? I didn’t imagine that optics reflection.”
Sykes sat back. “I’ll call the D.C. police and ask them to have a car make some extra rounds. But that’s all. And consider
“Right. In the White House,” Alex said wearily.
“No, actually
The Camel Club held a hasty meeting at Caleb’s condo early that morning. The first order of business was to congratulate the esteemed librarian and gutsy wheelman on his bravery. They had to wait a bit for that, however, as Caleb was in the bathroom still throwing up after realizing just how close he’d come to dying.
When Caleb finally emerged from the toilet Stone said, “I would like the official record to reflect that Caleb Shaw has earned the deepest thanks of the entire Camel Club membership for his extraordinary bravery and ingenuity.”
A pale but smiling Caleb shook each of their hands. “I’m not sure what came over me. I just knew that I had to do something. I’ve never been that scared since I was given the honor of handling Tocqueville’s
Reuben gave a fake tremble. “Handling a Tocqueville! Gives
“However, we have to assume that Reinke and his partner have now ‘made’ us, so to speak,” Stone warned.
“I’m not so sure. I took my license plates off while we were watching the road,” Caleb said as they all stared at him in surprise. “After Milton got their license plate and ran it so easily, I was terrified they’d do the same if they saw mine,” he explained.
Just then Milton’s cell phone buzzed.
“Yes?” he said. He listened for a bit and then clicked off and looked at the others. “Someone broke into my house and knocked out the security guard who responded to the silent alarm.”
“Was anything taken?” Stone asked.
“Doesn’t appear to be. However, I have surveillance devices disguised as track lighting throughout the place. The security company doesn’t know about that.”
“It would be very interesting to see who broke in,” Stone remarked.
“I have to go there to check it. The DVD recorder’s hidden behind my refrigerator.”
“We’ll have to chance it,” Stone said. “If it was Reinke and his colleague, it might give us the leverage we need.”
Reuben put a big arm around Caleb. “Well, if those two show up again, they’re going down for the count. Right, Killer?”
His first day back on presidential protection detail was a little awkward for Alex Ford. Everyone seemed to know that this reassignment was a demotion for the veteran agent. Still, they were cordial and professional with him. There was one good thing about being assigned to exterior White House duty: Alex could patrol Lafayette Park.
However, Stone wasn’t there, but Adelphia was. She was hovering in the middle of the park, shooting glances in the direction of Stone’s tent.
“Hello, Adelphia,” Alex said politely. “I was just looking for Oliver.”
To his surprise, Adelphia’s response was to burst into tears. That was something Alex had never seen the woman do before.
“Adelphia, what’s the matter?”
She just covered her face with her hands.
Alex moved over to her. “Adelphia, what is it? Are you hurt? Or sick?”
She shook her head, then took a deep breath and uncovered her face. “It is all right,” she said. “It is
