“I’m about to clear up my end of things. I suggest you do the same. Be a hero. Save the day.”
The American mumbled something that Gault thought was a Hail Mary, and then the line went dead.
“Bloody hell,” he said, staring out through the bloodstained windshield. “The man’s a coward and a fool.”
“You get what you pay for,” Toys said with an irritated sigh. He looked at his watch. “There’s still sixteen minutes before Zeller’s team reaches the Bunker. We can’t just sit here.”
“No,” agreed Gault. They got out of the vehicle and drew their pistols. Nothing moved, so they moved quickly and quietly toward the line of tents by the mountain wall. The camp appeared to be deserted, but as they darted from the shelter of one tent to another they found four corpses lying in a row, their hands and ankles bound, their throats cut. Their blood had soaked into the desert sand and flies buzzed around them. They were all men on Gault’s payroll.
Toys snorted. “So much for the element of surprise.”
Chapter One Hundred One
The Liberty Bell Center / Saturday July 4; 11:47 A.M.
SPECIAL AGENT O’BRIEN completed his sweep of the center, packed his gear back into the metal case and stowed it under the podium. Linden Brierly entered from another door and with him was a contingent of grim-faced Secret Service agents and at least four members of my old task force, and following them were half the members of Congress, a couple dozen assorted local politicians, and the First Lady and the VP’s wife. We faded back against the wall and tried to blend into the woodwork the way the Secret Service are supposed to do. I got some strange looks from my former task force teammates, but no one broke protocol to catch up on old times.
Robert Howell Lee had not yet arrived. I looked at Grace, who shrugged. “Give him time,” she said; but there was no time. Brierly, looking stressed and flushed, was trying to guide the ladies to their spots between the two bells, but the women were not cooperating. They were pausing to glad-hand everyone and engage in chitchat while outside the press photographers were snapping pictures through the big glass windows; and beyond the press a veritable sea of people waited for the festivities to commence. Eventually they let about two hundred civilians into the room, which meant that everyone was packed like sardines.
I glanced around. Top and Ollie were directly across from where we stood; Bunny and Skip were on my three o’clock and Gus on our nine.
“This is going to be a bloody circus,” Grace said under her breath. “Brace yourself I think everyone in a suit is about to make a longwinded speech.”
“Swell.”
The First Lady, looking very stylish in a pretty dress and an absurd hat, mounted the steps to the podium and tapped a microphone, making the usual “Is this on” remark which, strangely, got a laugh. I saw Special Agent O’Brien standing by the far door, slowly scanning the crowd. Our eyes met and he gave me a single, curt nod and then his eyes shifted away. Weird thing was, he was smiling. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a Secret Service agent smile. Not on the job.
As the First Lady launched into her speech I scanned the crowd looking for Robert Howell Lee, but my eyes kept flicking back to O’Brien. That smile bothered me.
Chapter One Hundred Two
Gault / The Bunker
GAULT RADIOED his assault team to let them know he and Toys were proceeding inside. “If you don’t hear from us in ten minutes come in hard and fast.”
“We’ll be there,” assured Captain Zeller.
Then Gault and Toys entered the shallow cave that led to the Bunker’s hatch. They encountered no one but they weren’t fooled and both men kept their pistols ready. Toys stood guard while Gault accessed the entry keypad that was hidden in the wall. He didn’t use the standard code. Amirah was too clever for that. Instead he entered a number sequence that bypassed the security using a back door he’d written into the security software. The new code disabled all external video scanners, including the ones in the cave and the monitors that watched the back door. Zeller’s team would now be able to approach unseen.
Gault punched in a second code and a door swung open. It wasn’t the big airlock that swung open; instead, to his left, a tall, slender ridge of rock slid upward on silent hydraulics to reveal a narrow passage. No one, not even Amirah, knew about this entrance.
As the door opened to his command Gault felt another fragment of his confidence return. There were a number of things Amirah didn’t know about the Bunker. After all, it wasn’t really her facility.
It belonged to Gault.
Chapter One Hundred Three
The Liberty Bell Center / Saturday, July 4; 11:59 A.M.
I LEANED CLOSE to Grace. “Call me paranoid, but I’m getting a weird vibe from that agent over there.” I told her where to look and she glanced surreptitiously at O’Brien and then flipped open her phone to call in a request for a physical description of Special Agent Michael O’Brien.
“Description matches,” she said, but from the expression on her face she clearly was getting the same bad feeling. Into the phone she said, “Transfer me to Director Brierly’s secure channel.”
Across the room I saw Brierly’s head swivel around to find us. “Sir,” said Grace, “this may be nothing but Captain Ledger has some concerns about one of the attending agents. O’Brien. Big red-haired bloke by the press entrance.”
We watched Brierly turn. “Michael O’Brien? He’s part of the team sent from D.C. Do you want him removed?”
“If you can do it quietly,” she said, and I winced. The Secret Service could do just about anything quietly. The word “secret” wasn’t there for show, but I understood what Grace was doing. She was putting the onus on Brierly to handle something correctly and we could learn a lot from the way he played it.
“Stand by,” he said, and switched channels. Almost immediately two of his agents began making their way around the perimeter of the room toward O’Brien.
My spider sense was going haywire now. I told Grace to get Brierly back on the line.
ON THE PODIUM the First Lady launched into a crushingly dull speech that was apparently going to chronicle the history of the Liberty Bell from the moment someone cooked up the idea, minute by minute, to today. “In 1752,” she intoned, “the Pennsylvania Assembly ordered a two-thousand-pound bell to place in the steeple of the new State House-what we now call Independence Hall.”
One of the approaching agents reached O’Brien and bent to whisper in the man’s ear. It must have been couched as a repositioning order because O’Brien merely nodded and began moving toward the exit which was directly behind him. The ranks of reporters made it necessary for him to thread his way through and the two other agents followed.
“He’s not bolting,” Grace said. “Maybe you’re wrong.”
“If I am I’ll apologize,” but I was still watching O’Brien.
“The order for the bell was sent to the Whitechapel Foundry in England,” continued the First Lady, “and noted metalsmith Thomas Lester was contracted to cast the first liberty bell and to inscribe it with these historic words: ‘Proclaim Liberty throughout all the Land unto all the Inhabitants thereof.’ Sadly that first bell cracked shortly after it was mounted and a replacement bell was-”
The First Lady kept speaking but something she had said jolted me as my brain replayed those words.
. noted metalsmith Thomas Lester was contracted to cast the first liberty bell
“And today we will be unveiling a new bell, designed and cast by Andrea Lester-who is with us today.” She
