The Collectors

“Oliver, you can’t be serious. Against my better judgment I let you impersonate a German scholar to get into the vault, but I absolutely draw the line on burglarizing the Library of Congress.”

Annabelle looked at Stone with new respect. “You played a German scholar? That’s impressive.”

“Please do not encourage him,” Caleb snapped. “Oliver, I am a federal employee.”

“And have we ever held that against you?” Reuben quipped.

Stone said, “Caleb, if we don’t get into that room, all the risk in getting the plan details will have been for nothing.” He pointed at the drawing. “And you can see that the HVAC line running to the vault is also located in the fire suppression room. We can check both out at the same time.”

Caleb shook his head. “That room is located off the main basement corridor. There are usually lots of people walking along there. We’ll get caught.”

“If we act like we’re supposed to be there, no one will challenge us.”

“He’s right, Caleb,” Annabelle said.

“I’m going too,” Reuben added. “I’m tired of being left out of all the fun.”

Milton piped in, “What about us?”

“I can’t walk in with an army of people,” Caleb wailed.

Annabelle said, “We can be backup, Milton. Every plan needs to allow for contingencies.”

Stone looked at her strangely. “Fine, you can be our backup. We’ll go tonight.”

“Tonight!” Caleb exclaimed. “I’ll need at least a week to work up the nerve. I’m a wimp. I started out as a librarian at an elementary school, but I couldn’t take the pressure.”

“You can do it, Caleb,” Milton advised. “I felt the same way today, but it’s not that hard to fool people. If I can do it to some architects, you can do it at the place where you work. What could they possibly ask you that you wouldn’t have an answer for?”

“Oh, I don’t know, how about where’s my brain for agreeing to do this in the first place?” Caleb shot back. “And besides, the building will be closing by the time we get there.”

“Can you still get us in with your library badge?”

“I don’t know. Maybe, maybe not,” he said evasively.

“Caleb,” Stone said calmly. “We have to do this.”

Caleb sighed. “I know. I know.” He added sharply, “At least allow me the satisfaction of pretending I’m putting up a fight.”

Annabelle put a hand on his shoulder and smiled. “Caleb, you remind me of somebody I know. His name’s Leo. He likes to bitch and moan and act like a weenie, but in the end he always comes through.”

“I guess I’ll take that as a compliment,” Caleb said stiffly.

Stone cleared his throat and opened one of the journals he’d brought with him. “I think I’ve discovered at least partly what it is we’re up against.”

They all turned their attention to him. Before he started speaking, he switched on his portable radio and classical music filtered into the room. “Just in case the cottage is being bugged,” he explained. He cleared his throat again and told them about his trip to Bradley’s destroyed house. “They killed the man and blew up his house. At first I thought it was to keep up the terrorist group subterfuge. Now I think there could be another reason: namely, that in spite of his reputation as an honest man, Bob Bradley was corrupt. And the evidence of that corruption disappeared in the explosion.”

“That’s not possible,” Caleb said. “His predecessor was a crook, not Bradley. They elevated Bradley to the top spot to clean things up.”

Stone shook his head. “In my experience in Washington one does not capture the Speaker’s chair on an agenda of anticorruption. One gets there by building up powerful support and cultivating alliances over the years. Still, Bradley’s ascension was out of the ordinary. If the majority leader hadn’t been indicted along with the former Speaker, the job would’ve gone to him. And after him the party whip. But the leadership was so tainted that Bradley was brought in like the proverbial out-of-town sheriff to clean up the town. But I’m not talking about that sort of corruption.

“Bradley’s role as Speaker obscures the other significant title he held: that of chairman of the House Intelligence Committee. In that role Bradley would have been briefed on virtually every covert operation going on in every American intelligence agency, including the CIA, NSA and the Pentagon. He and his staff would have been privy to secrets and classified documents worth a great deal to our enemies.” Stone leafed through his journal. “Over the last several years there have been numerous accounts of espionage against American intelligence agencies, some of which have resulted in the deaths of undercover agents, four in the most recent instance that the press identified as State Department liaisons. And according to Reuben’s sources, it’s even worse than the media have reported.”

“So you’re saying Bradley was a spy?” Milton asked.

“I’m saying it’s a possibility.”

Caleb said, “But if Bradley was working with America’s enemies, why would they kill him?”

“There are two possibilities,” Stone replied. “First, he might have asked for more money in return for his acts of treason, and they decided to kill him instead. Or—”

Annabelle said, “Or we killed him.”

Stone glanced at her and nodded slightly. The others looked stunned.

Caleb exclaimed, “We? As in our government!”