“WhataboutitfeelslikeSevastopol?” Farrah asked.
The moment of happiness with Deano had evaporated, and Kharzai was back in character.
“Thefactthatyounearlyblewthewholeoperationbygettingexposed,” hesaid.
Kharzaistoppedinthemiddleofthestone-tiledmudroomentryandgaveFarrahanaccusingstare.Farrahspunbacktowardhim,hisfacescrunchedattheaccusationandhislipstightenedintothin-stretchedlines.
“Whatareyoutalkingabout?” hehissed.
“Didyouknowyouwerefollowedlastnight?”
“Oh,really?”Farrah’sexpressionchangedtoalookofindignation. “Bywhom,thelocalpolice?TheAlbanianMafia?TheCIA?”
“Nope,nope,andnope.” Kharzaiwaggedafingerathim. “ItwastheFBI.”
“Howcouldtheybeontous?” Farrah waved his hand dismissively.
“BecauseyougotyourprettylittlefaceonTVatthataccident.” Heframedhisownfacewithhisfingersinasquareliketheoutlineofatelevisionscreen. “Andthatpregnanttrooperrememberedeverydetailaboutyouandthecousins.Youhaveexposedyourself,YourHighness.”
“Howmuchdo theyknow?” Farrah's expression became thoughtful, concerned.
“Enoughtogetthehoundssniffing,” Kharzai said. “AndI just happen to knowatleastacoupleofthehoundsinvolved—they areverygoodsniffers.”
“What do you mean, you know these hounds,” Farrah queried.
“A couple of Marines I worked with when the CIA thought I was on their side,” Kharzai said.
Farrah let out a sharp sigh. “Howdidyoufind all this out?”
“Becausepregoladyandahot-lookingredheaddroppedoffthetworetiredcommandoswhotraipsedthroughthewoodsandfollowedyouintotheport.Asthewomenwaitedinthetrainyardfortheirheroestoreturn,thosegoonsthecousinshiredtowatchyourassgotboredanddecidedtheyweregoingtoshowthegirlsagoodtime.Onlythosegirlsbothhadgunsandthecommandosreturnedduringthestandoffandkickedtheircollectivebuttockses.”
“Twomenbeateight?” Farrah said disbelievingly.
“Yougetwhatyoupayfor,” Kharzaisaid. “So,yes.Twohighlytrainedprofessionalkillersbeatthelivingdaylightsoutofhalfadozenhigh-schooldropout,drooling-idiotstreetthugsandsentthemrunningfortheirbarelysentientlives.”
“Andyouwatchedallofitwithoutsteppingin.” Farrahsoundeddispleased.
“Ofcourse,” Kharzaireplied. “Iknowbetterthantoblowmycoverbysteppingintothelightwhensomeoneelsecantakecareofthingsforme.”
“Excepttheydidn’ttakecareofthings.”
“If you're referring to our little band of jerkoffs, no,” Kharzaisaid. “NowthankstotheHanseland Gretelhiring agency bringing in theleast-evolvedthugstheycouldfind,theG-Menarecomingyourway.”
“Doyouthinkwehaveenoughtimetocompletethemission?” Farrah was now truly concerned. He'd never been caught before, never even been cornered. He had no intention of failing now.
“Thebigguyissupposedtoarriveinacoupleofdays,” Kharzai said. “Aslongaswekeepthepaceanddon’tdoanythingelsestupid,weshouldbefine.”
“IronGiantleftmeanemailwithanupdatedagenda,” saidFarrah. “Weshouldstillbeontarget.Butperhapsweshouldfindanotherresidence.”
“IronGiant,” Kharzaisaid withamockingtone. “Whydotheyalwayshavetousesuchmasculinecodenames?Themanissellingouthiscountrytotheenemyformoney.Thattellsme the bastard isagreedylittlecoward.Hiscodenameshouldbemorelike Prissy Prick,orTepidTurd.” Hisvoicedroppedtopurelyderisive. “IronGiant…pffft.”
“Amanthathighinthegovernmentismostlikelytoseehimselfwith powerfulimagery,” Farrah said. “Andbesides,wedon’tknowifheisaheatall.Hemaybeashe.”
“Okay, Iwillgowithafemalenamethen.Hmmm,felineperhaps.” Kharzaiputhisfingerstohisblack-beardedchinincontemplation. “Parsimonius Pussy.”
Farrahshookhishead. “Whoevertheyare,wearegettingwhatwewant.Andthatisallthatmatters.”
Chapter14
FuelPipelineTunnel
UnderAnchorage’sParkStrip
11:45a.m.
“Okay,thiscityhasentirelytoomanyundergroundtunnelsforitssize,” Tonia said. “Ifeellikewe'vegonethroughfiftymilesoflabyrinth.”
“Yeah,whycouldn'ttheyhavegolfcartsorthoseSegway thingsorsomethingdownhere?” Tomerwiped sweat from his forhead,flicking it from his hand, the droplets splashing against the wall. “Maybeweshouldgetonerequisitioned.Youthinkthesehallsarewideenough?Whatarethey,abouteightfeetwide,maybe?”
Hemadeagestureofmeasuringthewidthofthetunnelwithoutstretchedarms.
“Youtwoneedtoget inbettershape,” Warner said. “InAfghanistan,mycompanymarchedthirtymilesinonedayinhundred-degreeheatandthenhadtofightabattlewiththeTalibanbeforewecouldgetanyrest.” Sweatraninrivuletsfromhisforeheadfalling in heavy dropsfromhischinandthetipofhisnose.
“Youlooklikeyou'reabouttodiefromthisheatdownheretoo,Superman,” Tonia said. “I'mwithTony—a golfcartsoundsniceaboutnow.Andanicecoldglassoficedtea.”
“Yeah,aLongIslandIcedTea,” Tomer said.
“Oh,yeah,” ToniarepliedwithawinkandnudgeofTomer’sarm. “Youthinklikeme,AgentTomer.”
“Greatminds,yaknow.” hereplied,cheeksblushingatherphysicalcontact.
Warnerrolledhiseyes.Sincetheygottenintothetunnels,ToniaandTomerhadbeencomplainingandjokingaroundwitheachothernon-stop.Overthecourseofthepastfewhours,theirbehaviorhadshiftedfromborderlineflirtatioustofulleye-contactandplayfultouching.ItweirdedWarnerout.Whateitherofthemsawineachother,hehadnoidea,buttheyweregettingalongjustfine—which, accordingtooneoftheFBIagentshehadmetearlierthatmorning,wasnotexpected.Tomer,hewastold,rubbedeveryonethewrongway.Withinminutesofmeetinghim,Warnerunderstoodwhattheotheragenthadmeant.Hewasalmostinstantly irritated bytheman,andknewthiswasgoingtobeaseriouslylongdaywithhiminthetunnels.
Tomercarriedhimselfwiththekindofaironeusuallyfindsamongstereotypicalbowling-alleytypes,thekindwho wore theirleagueshirtlikeitwasformalattire,hadatoothpickstickingoutoftheirmouth,andwhose faces were stuck inan eternal “I’msmarterthanyou” smirkmostofthetime.HecameintotheFBIoffice,hairslickedbackandheldinplacebytoomuchgel andwearingasuitthatwasprobablyfromtheexpensiveendoftherackatJCPenney.Itwouldhavelookedbetterthanitdidifitfithimproperly.AnotherdowngradeinWarner’seyeswasTomer’sshinybluepolyestershirt,puffedupasitlayoverathickbushofchesthair.Abrightredtiestoodinstarkcontrasttotheshirt.NotexactlystandardG-Manattire.Helookedmorelikeasleazystrip-clubmanager.Tocompletetheeffect,heworeabiggoldringwithasquareofblackonyxinlaidwithasinglediamondonthepinkyofonehandandaMasonicringontheringfingeroftheother.Blackknucklehairsjuttedfrombeneaththerings.
What reallycaughtWarner'sattention, in a weird sort of way,wasTomer'sperfectlymanicuredfingernails.Theyweresmoothandsymmetrical,evenshiny.WarnerimaginedTomersittinginasalonwaitingpatientlywhileaneffeminateAsianmanbuffedandpolishedhisnails.Hesimultaneouslysnickeredandcringedattheimage.
ToniaseemedtohaveadifferentopinionofAgentTomer.Sheapparentlysawsomethinginthemanthatnooneelsedid,becauseshejibedandcajoledwithhimasiftheyhadbeenbestbuddiesforyears.ToniawithherBaltimore/DCinner-cityblackfemalepersonalityandTomerwithhiswhitetrashbowling-alley/mafiawannabepersona.Ithadaweirdkindofpoeticromanticismtoit.Veryweirdpoetryindeed.
Warnerhadneverfiguredoutthemale/femalerelationshipthing.Itwasnotlogicalhowsomepeoplecametogether, howtheybecameattractedtooneanother,andeven“fellinlove.” Hehadnocluehowitallworked,andneverexpectedittoworkforhim.
Regardlessofthecomicalloveaffairofhiscohorts,hetriedtostayfocusedonthework.TheyweresearchingforpossiblewaysaterroristcouldputaweaponofmassdestructionortoolofassassinationintotheundergroundlabyrinthoftunnelsandpipelinesthatwasthefoundationofthecityofAnchorage.Thattaskwasturningintoalotofwork.
WarnerandRobertswereboth trainedinexplosivesdetection, butneitherwereelectronicsexperts.AfterhourswalkingthesubterraneanmaintenancecorridorsthatsnakedbelowthesurfaceofAnchorage’sdowntownarea,theywereexhausted.Plumbing,electrical conduit,fuellines,telephoneanddatacablesconsumedeveryinchofwallspaceinthenarrowtunnels at the base of whichrantwolarge-diameterpipelines.OnecarriedaconstantstreamofjetfuelfromthePortofAnchoragetoTedStevensInternationalAirport.Theotherwasfullofhighlypressurizednaturalgasflowingtoroutingsystemsthatdistributeditthroughoutthecity.
Warnertappedashortmetalbatonagainstthepipeastheywalkedthecorridor.Thethicksteel-encasedpiperespondedwithadullmetallic thunk.Thejetfuelpipelinewasadual-layersystemwithaninnerpipemadeofhalf-inch-thicksteelprotectedbyalayerofinsulationandanotherlayerofhalf-inchsteelsurroundingtheactualfuel-carryingpipe.Thedesign,whileseemingliketechnicaloverkill,enabledittowithstandeveryconceivabletypeofbreechfromearthquakestobombs.
Fifteenmilesinlength,thepipeconsisted ofthousandsoffour-footsegmentsboltedtogetheratflangedseams.Flowcontrolandpressure-releasevalvesjuttedfromthepipeateverytenthsection,allowingforrepairorreplacementwithintheforty-foot-longsegment.
Thetriohadenteredthetunnelfromanaccessportontheparkstripandwalkedhalfamileoneachsideoftheareawherethepresidentandhisguestswouldbeappearing.Fromthestartingpointoftheirinspection,severalblocksnorth and beneathdowntown,Warnerhadbeentappingeachfour-footsegmentofpipeastheypassedit.Therhythmic“tink” soundedthesameoneverypipetheentirelengththeytraveled.Astheycametoapointunderthecenteroftheparkstrip,Tomerstuckhisfingersinhisearsandwiggledthemirritably.
“Warner,doyouhavetokeephittingthatpipeeveryfewsteps?”
“Yes,asamatteroffact..”
“Why?” Tonia asked. “You'regivingmeaheadache.”
Sherubbedhertempleswithherhighlymanicuredfingernails.Thenailswerenotexcessivelypainted,asthatwasagainstagencydresscode,buttheywereimmaculate.JustlikeTomer's.
“Sorrytointerruptyoutwolovebirds,butIaminspectingthepipeline.”
Tomerflushed.TonialookedsidewaysatWarner,thensheepishlylookedaway.
“Idon'tknowwhatyou’re talkingabout,” Tomersputtered, “butyouhavehitthatpipeatleastathousandtimesandit’s drivingmenuts.Ithasmadethesamesoundeverytimeyou’vehititforthepasttwomiles.”
“Actually,I’ve onlyhiteachsegmentofpipeonce.Wehavepassedsixhundredandforty-sixsegmentsofpipe,whichmeansIhavestruckthatmanytimes.Andyes,everysegmenthassoundedthesamesofar.”
“Youcountedeverypipe?” Toniasaid,alookofdisbeliefonherface.
“Ofcourse,” Warnerreplied.Hepointedtothepipebesidehim.Itwaslabeledwithastringofnumbersandletters. “JPF-3526-bstandsforJetPropulsionFuel,segmentnumberthreethousandfivehundredtwenty-six. The numberisthemeasurementinyardsfromthesource,whichmeansweareabouttwopointsevenmilesfromthatsource,assumingthatallthesegmentsarefourfeet.The'b'indicatesithasbeenreplacedatsometimeinthepast,asother,older-lookingpipesarealldesignated'a'.Westartedatonethousandeighthundredeightyandhaveonlypassedsixhundredandforty-sixsegments,whichalsomeanswehaveonlycomeabouthalfamile.Thefactthateverypipesoundedidenticaluptothispointindicatesthatitislesslikelyanyhavebeentamperedwith.Ihavealsotakenacursorylookateachoftheshutoffvalvesandpressure-bleedportsalongthepipetoseeifanyhadrecentlybeenusedbymaintenancecrews.”
“Youhave?” Tomer asked with unguardedastonishment.
“Yes,Ihave,” Warner said. “Whileyoutwowerechattingandmakinggooglyeyesateachother,Ihavenotedthatthereweresixvalvesthathadbeenusedwithinthepastfewweeks,andtwoofthosewithinthepasttwenty-fourhours.Thiswasobviousbyvaryingdegreesofdustmissing fromthevalvehandles.Butnoneoftheboltsonthepipelineseamsthemselvesappear tohavebeentamperedwith.”
HegaveahardtapofthemetalbatonontosegmentJPF-3527-a.Itrespondedwiththesamedullthunkastheprevioussegmentshad.Tomergaveasuperciliouslookandmotionedtowardthemassofcables,pipes,andelectricalconduitontheoppositewall.
“Oh,well,whileyouweredoingthat,Iwasinspectingtheelectricalcablesandthisstuffuphereonthewallforsignsofabomb.”
“Anddidyoufindany?”
“Anywhat?”
“Signsofabomb?”
“Oh,” Tomerreplied, wavingthequestionawaywithhishands, “no.Nosignsofabombonthissideofthetunnel.”
“Good.Let'sgetthisthingfinishedandgetuptopfordinner.”
“Finish?” Tonia said. “It'snoon,andwe’re stillneartheentrywecameinby.We’re atthehalfwaypoint.Thatmeansitwillbenearlyfiveo'clockbeforewegetthisinspectiondone.Mystomachistellingmeit'sbreaktimenow.Andifyougotelling that sorrystoryaboutgoingfortwoweeksonasingleMREinAfghanistan,I'mgoingtotakeTonyhereandwalkoutonyourskinnyass.'CauseIamnotgoingtowasteawaydownhereinthistunnelwhileyouplaydrumsonthesemetalpipesalldaylong.”
Sheemphasizedherwishesbycrossingherarms,loweringherhead,andlookingupathimwitha“gotcha”kindofstare.
“Yeah,” Tony said. “I'mkindahungrytoo.”
“Somehow,” Warnerreplied, “Idoubtthateither one ofyouwouldwasteawaydownhere—at leastnotforacoupleofweeks.”
Tonia'smouthdroppedopenattheinsinuation,“Didyoujustcallmefat?”
“No.I'mjustsayingthatittakesmorethanamonthwithoutnutritiontodieofstarvation.Seriousweightlossdoesn'tevenstartfortwoweeks.Iwassimplystatingthefacts.”
“I'mnotfat,” Tomer said, “justbig.Mywholefamilyisbig.Youshouldseemybrother.”
“Yeah,metoo.” Toniaturnedtowalktotheexitstairs, “Mymommalooksjustlikemeandmysisters.NowmycousinFatima,well,shewasjustthat…fatimama.”
Warnershookhisheadandfollowedthemupthestairs,mumblingunderhisbreath, “Itwasonlyaweek,andwehadtwoMREsperman.”
Chapter15
FuelPipelineTunnel
UnderAnchorage’sParkStrip
1:00p.m.
Thenorthernaccesshatchtotheundergroundtunnelwashousedinasmallred-brickstructure, similartoanouthouse,behindanofficebuildingonEleventhAvenue.Itsdoorhadbeenlocked,butFarrah'spositionwiththegascompanymeantamasterkeytothesystem.Lekaopenedthedoorandclimbeddowntheladder,followedbyKreshnik,bothladenwithbagsoftoolsandtheheavycomponentsdesignedtofitpreciselyinsidethedoublewallpipe.Whentheyplacedthefirstonetheday before,theydiscovereditwasasixteenthofaninchtoothickandwouldnotlettheboltslinebackupintheirholestosecurethecover.TheyhadreplacedthecoverwithouttheinsulationandgonebacktotheworkshopatFarrah'srentedhouseinordertoresizethepart.Itneededtofitexactlyinordertofunctioncorrectly.
Astheywalkedalongthetunnel,Kreshniktappedthepipeswithawrench,eachresonatingwithasolidthunkinresponse.Hekeptstrikingthepipesuntilonerangoutlikeahollowbell.
“Hereweare,cousin,” KreshniksaidinAlbanian. “JPF-3528-a.”
“Gettowork,” saidLeka. “Ithadbetterfitthistime.WeneedtogetdonebeforetheSecretServicecomestoinspectdownhere.”
“Don'tworry.I'vegotitresizedproperly.HowcouldIhaveknowntheyusedadifferentthicknessonsome of these segments?”
“Youshouldhaveknown—you didtheresearch.” Lekalookedupat thetunnelceiling. “And makesureitispointed right.Ithastogetthroughthetopimmediatelyforittowork.”
“Noproblem,cousin,” Kreshnikreplied. “Wefixthisone,thenweplacethechargesontheceiling.Thetwodevicesaresetoffbythesamesignal.Thefirethatcomesdownthepipewillhavenoplacetogobutstraightup.”
Lekanodded. “AslongFarrahswitchesthevalvesintime.”
“Let'sgivehimthebenefitofthedoubt,” Kreshnik said with an exasperated tone.
“I'mtrying,butIdon'tlikehim.”
Kreshnikglancedupathiscousin. “Why?”
“He'snotoneofus.”
“Whatdoyoumean,notoneofus?” Kreshnikgrimacedashestruggledwiththeboltsonthepipesegment. “He'sAlbanian,justlikeweare.HisparentsareKosovar,justlikeours.”
“No.” Lekashookhishead. “HeisBritish.TheyarefriendstotheAmericans.”
“HisparentswerekilledbytheAmericans,blowntopiecesonaKosovomountainside.Heisnottheirfriend.”
“Everytimeheopenshismouth,IhearthesoundofanEnglishman.” Lekaspatastickyglobontheoppositewall. “Heistoopolite,toocourteoustotheseinfidelbastardsandtheirfatwhores.EveninAlbanian,hewillnotcursethem.”
Kreshnikletoutasigh. “Youaretoohardonhim.HehasbeenintheJihadlongenoughthatheshouldhavegainedyourtrustbynow.”
“IfhewouldonlycursethosefilthyEnglishandtheirwayoflife.OrevencursetheAmericans.Hell,” Lekagesturedwithhishands. “Ifhewouldsimplystopsmilingatthemoropeningdoorsfortheirwomen,Iwouldfeelbetterabouthim.”
“Heisdoinghispart.Hedidnotgrowuplikewedid,butheisdoinghispart.” Kreshniksignaledtohiscousintohelphimliftthefour-footsteelsegment. “Wehavetofinishthisone.Theothersixaredonealready.Andthespecialvalvesaredone.Thenwecomebacktomorrownightandinstallthedevicesontheceiling,” hepointedtotheceilinglightfixturedirectlyabovethepipesegment, “andwearedone.”
Theyheftedthethickpieceofpipe,veinsbulgingbeneaththeskinoftheirtemplesattheeffort.Theyinchedittothesideandcarefullysetitonthefloor.
“Afieldofbloodwillbehisproofforme,” Lekasaid. “Iwanthimto seetheinfidelsdie,screaminglikebabies,andthenI will watchhisreaction.ThatiswhenIwillknowheisreallyoneofus.Andperhapswecankillthatcrazyman, too.”
“Kharzai?” saidKreshnikastheyliftedalarge,curvedelectronicdeviceshapedtofitpreciselybetweenthetwolayersofpipeline,placingitintothespacepreviouslyfilledbytheinsulationtheyremovedthenightbefore. “Ilikehim.”
“Howcanyoulikethatlunatic? Iswearheisschizophrenic.Heisonepersonnow,adifferenttomorrow,andathirdafterthat.Andthenheisbacktothefirstanddoesn'tevenseemtonoticethedifference.”
“Butallhispersonalitiesarefocusedonthesamegoal,” Kreshnik replied, “andatleastKharzaihascursedtheinfidel.”
“Yeah,thatistrue. Hehascursedtheinfidel,andtheinfidel'sfatuglywife,andhisskinnylover,andhisspoiledchildren,andhisdog,andhispottedplants.HeneverstopscursingtheAmericansandEnglishalike.”
“See,sinceheisFarrah'sfriend,hemakesupforwhattheEnglishmanislacking,right?” Kreshniksmiledupathiscousin.Lekashookhisheadandturnedtowardthework.
Chapter16
FBIOffice
DowntownAnchorage
1:00p.m.
Hilde’sBlackberryplayedasoftjazzysong.Shepulleditfromherpurse,pressedtheanswerbuttonwithherthumb,andheldtheredcellphonetoherear.
“Hey,girlfriend!”
Tonia's voice was extremely loud, in spite of the fact that Hilde kept the volume of her cellphone relatively low. Hilde quickly stretchedherarmtogetthephoneawayfromherearbeforeitcouldcausepermanenthearingdamageasTonia’svoicecameoverthetinyspeakerwith enough forceforeveryonewithintwentyfeettohearher.
“Iseeyoutriedtocallme,butImissedit.Youreadyforthatdoubledate?Igotarealmannow.”
“Tonia? Notimetobesocial. Where areyou?”
“Huh?”
“Whereareyou?I’mnottheonlyonetryingtogetholdofyou—the SACistoo.”
“I’matalittlecafédowntown,bythehotel.What’sgoingon?”
“Can’ttalkhere.Weneedtoseeyouface-to-face.BringWarnerandTomerwithyouifyoucan.”
“Howdidyou knowI’mwithTony?”
“TheSACtoldus.Where are you? We’llcomethere.”
“SnowCityCafé.Rightbesidethehotel.”
“Irememberseeingit. Giveustwentyminutes.”
Hildehungup.Shewas at a computer terminal in an empty office near Caufield's, looking up data related to Farrah and Kharzai. While she did that, Lonnie tried to identify the other two men she had seen at the accident from a list of photos that were tagged as related to either Farrah or Kharzai. After Tonia's call, Hilde rubbed her eyes, tired from the digital strain, and turned to Lonnie on the other side of the two-desk office space.
“Well, you heard that exchange,” Hilde said. “You ready for some lunch?”
“Yeah, definitely,” Lonnie said. “Starved, and I need a brain break after all these pictures. They're all starting to blend together. Farrah's not so bad, but Kharzai seems to be on intimate terms with almost every major terrorist in the past fifteen years.”
The two women logged off the computers and stepped out of the office. They walked toward the the single elevator door just before the stairwell and Lonnie pushed the button.
Continuing the conversation from the office, Hilde said, “When I first heard about Kharzai back in Ohio, I did some research on him. While there aren’t too many files that detail actual facts, he’s probably the most effective undercover agent the CIA has in the war on terror.”
“He certainly gets around,” Lonnie said. “Some of the people listed as 'connected' to him are faces I see on CNN or FoxNews every night.”
“That's why we were so shocked to see him here,” Hilde said. “Kharzai Ghiassi is no small-potatoes spy. He is a major wheel in the war machinery, and not someone you want to lose track of.”
They got out of the elevator and Lonnie excused herself to go into to the ladies’ room. Hilde waited inthedownstairslobby as an office assistant went to retrieve agovernmentvehicleCaufieldhadagreedtoloanher.Thecar,anewermodelburgundyFordTauruswithAlaskaplates,pulleduptotheentranceasLonniecameoutoftheladies’room.
“Perfecttiming,” Hildesaid.
“Yeah,” Lonniereplied asshequick-waddledtowardthedoors. “I’mgoodatthat.But thefurtherthispregnancygoes,thatskillisbeingtestedtothelimits.Thebabyseemstohavetakenmostofthespacepreviouslyreservedformybladder.”
TheyclimbedintothevehicleanddrovetotheSnowCityCafé,aquaintstreet-levelyuppie-styleeateryatthewesternedgeofdowntown.AlthoughonlyashortdistancefromthebluffthatlookedoutintoCookInletanditssurroundingmountainranges,thecaféhadafeelmorereminiscentofaNewYorkdeli,asitsviewconsistedentirelyofthetallbuildingsthatringedaboutit.Themenusatisfied both vegetarianandcarnivore,andthedécor wasyouthfulandtrendy,acollegedinerlayoutwithalongcounterbehindwhichjuttedasodadispenserandseveralbeertapslabeledwiththenamesoflocalmicro-brewslikeMonk’sMistress,PrinceWilliamWhiteAle,andSmokedBearPissPorter.Marcus,a lager and ale connoisseur,wouldhavelovedthebeerselection,butalsowouldhavesaidtherestauranthadadistincttreehuggerfeeltoit.Thetattooedandpiercedstaffwasfriendlyastheyhustledbetweentheremainingcustomers who lingeredafterthelunchrush.Itwasdrawingneartheendoftheirday,fourp.m. SnowCitywasabreakfastandlunchestablishmentthatonlyopenedfordinnerduringspecialeventssuchaspoetryreadingsorjazzconcerts,bothofwhichhappenedfairlyfrequentlyasevidencedbyacollectionofpostersonthebulletinboardatthefrontentranceandplasteredbeneaththecashregister.
ToniaandthetwomenwereseatedataboothinthefarcornerwhenHildeandLonnieentered.Ayoungwomanwiththick,sandy-coloreddreadlocksbundledatopherhead looked up with a friendly expressionastheywalkedin.Shehadthetannedfaceofanavid outdoors enthusiast, probably a hikerorkayakerwhospentmanyhoursunprotectedinthewindandsun.Wrinklesattheedgesofhereyesandmouthrenderedevidenceofweatherdamage,givingheraprematurelyagedlookthatputherinhermid-to-latethirtieseventhoughherbodylanguagesuggestedshewasprobablyclosertotwenty-five.Againsther darkskin,agoldstudglimmeredinthesideofhernose,andalargegoldpinshoneincontrasttotheeyebrowthroughwhichitpierced. Whether or not such scar-inducing jewelry was to a person's taste, the young lady was quite attractive nonetheless.
Shesmiledasthetwoladieswalkedinandsaid, “Hi,welcometoSnowCity.Justthetwoofyouthisafternoon?”
ToniasawHildeandLonnierightawayand stood up, calling out and motioningthemtothetable.
Hilde pointed that direction and said, “That's our party.”
Thesmilingwomancalledafterthemastheyheadedtowardthebooth. “Wouldyoulikeamenu?Westillhavelunchandservebreakfastallday.”
Lonniesuddenlyrealizedshewas more than just hungry.Shewas,infact,famished.
“Yes,please. Couldyoubringittoourfriend’stable?”
“Surething.” The womanreachedthetablejustamomentafterthetwowomensatdown. Shesetthemenusandglassesoficewaterinfrontofeachofthem,thengatheredtheuseddishesfromthetable.
“Wouldtherestofyoulikesomethingelse?Morecoffee,maybe?”
“Sure.” Warner’s facesoftenedslightlyashehandedthecuptoher.Shetookitwithsmileandanod.
“I’llberightback.”
Theyoungwomanwalkedawaywithhiscup.Shewasthinandfit,with femininecurvesaccentuatedbyahiker’s muscular physique.Warnerfollowedherwithhiseyesforafewseconds,thenturnedbacktotheremnantsofFrench friesonhisplate.
“Damn,Warner,” Tonia said, “isthatanattractiontotheoppositesexIseeon yourface?”
“Huh?” Warner nearly choked on a fry.
“He’sblushing,” Tomer said. “Looksrealenoughtome.”
“Idon’tknowwhatyou’retalkingabout.” Warnerlooked downathisplateandstuffed twomorefriesintohismouth.
ToniaturnedtowardsHilde.“Mr.RobotohasbeenhasslingmeandTonyalldayforbeingfriendlywitheachother.” Tonia nudged Tomer with her shoulder in a playfulflirtatious gesture.
Lonnie’s eyes went wide and she coughed at the image. “YouandTony?”
Warner looked up from his plate and blurted out, “They’vebeenflirtingliketeenagepuppiessincetheymet.”
“You’rejustjealous,” Toniasaid.ShewrappedherarmthroughTomer’s. “AtleastI’vegotadatefortonight.Betterthanyoucansay,Mr.Personality.”
TheyoungwomancamebackwithWarner’scoffee.
“Hey.” Tonialookedupatthewaitresswithasmile. “Youseemnice.What’syourname?”
“Thankyou. It’sMyriam,witha ‘y.’” Afriendlysparklelithereyesassheglancedaroundthetable.HergazestoppedonWarnerasshehandedhiscoffeedown.Warnersqueezedoutatightsmile,hiseyessofteningashelookedup.
“Gotaboyfriend,Myriamwitha ‘y’?” Tonia asked.
Warnerblushed, andhisgaze fellbacktohisFrenchfries.
“Nope. Spent four years in the Army, then got out and went to college.Justfinishedlastmonth,soI'veneverhadtimeuntilnow.”
“Army? Well, you certainly looklikeanoutdoorsytype,” Tonia said. “Ibetyoulikehikingandkayaking.”
“Yeah,Ido,” Myriam said. “Youtoo?”
“Me, no,” Toniareplied.Shepointedacrossthetablewithanopen-handedgesture, “butWarnerheredoesallthatkindofwildmanstuff.”
“You’dbetteraskMyriamout,Warner,” Tomerblurted. “Army, wilderness chick—she’s definitelyyourtype.Andprobablyyourlasthope.”
“Youclearlyfindherattractive,” Toniaadded.
“You’vebeenstaringathersincewewalkedin,” Tomer said.
“Sojustask,man,” Toniasaid.
Myriam’stanskinturnedbrightpink.Warner’s face flushedbeetred.Helookedupapologetically. “Pleaseexcusemyco-workers.” Hisvoicestayedsmoothdespite thepurpleofhiscomplexion. “They’renotverywelleducatedinsocialmanners.”
“Uh…” MyriamturnedtowardHilde,whohadremainedsilentthewholetime. “CanItakeyourorderma’am?”
“Yes.” Hildewasonlyhalfamusedbythediscussionandwantedtogettobusiness. “Turkeyclubwithcoleslaw,please,andicedteawithlemon.”
Lonnieorderedacoldroastbeefsandwich,asideofjalapenos,andwaterwithlotsoflimewedges.Myriamglanced atWarner,herexpressionsomewherebetweensympatheticandbewildered.
“I’llhavethatrightout,” shesaid,hervoicealittleshaky.Sheturnedandwalkedquicklybacktothekitchen.
“You’dbetternotleaveherewithoutherphonenumber,” Tonia said.
“Thatwouldbeunforgivable,” Tomer added.
Warnerjustshookhisheadandlookedoutthewindow,thepurpleinhischeeksslowlydiminishing.
“Sorrytobreakthemood,butwehaveaseriousissueweneedtoaddress,” Hilde said. “There’s apossibletangointown.”
Warner’sattentionsnappedtoHildelikeanalertedguarddog.
“Details,” he said.Hisfacecolorquicklyreturnedtonormal.
“AterroristinAnchorage?” Tomer said. “Nothinghascomeacrossourradar.”
“Rememberthatcaraccidentafewdaysago,” Lonnie said, “theonewiththenewlymarriedcouple?”
“Yeah,” Warnerreplied.
“Iwasthere,” Lonnie told him. “Immediatelyaftertheaccident,amanpulledupinawhiteAudiandofferedtohelp.Ifeltstrangeabouthimandhiscompanions,asifhehadsomehowcausedtheaccident,likemaybehewaschasingthemanwhohitthecouple.Nextday,Hilderecognizedhimonthenews.”
“He’saknownoperatornamedStevenFarrah,” Hildesaid. “I spent the morning at the FBI building,checkingintohisfullcoverstory.”
Seriousnessdescendedonthegroupasthetwowomenexplainedwhathappenedattherailyardandtheirhusbands'discoveriesattheport.ThediscussionpausedbrieflywhenMyriambroughtplatesoffood,thencontinuedoncesheleft.Oncetheexplanationwasdone,theystartedbrainstorming,voiceslow.
“Okay,howwouldhehitthepresidentinthisenvironment?” Tomer asked.
Hildeswallowedthefinalbiteofhersandwich. “He’sapetroleumengineerbyeducation.”
“Thatwouldobviouslybehiscover,” Lonniesaid wiping her lips with a napkin then dropping itontoheremptyplate, “buthowwouldheusethatforanassaultonthepresident?”
“DescribeagainwhatMarcusandMikesawattheport,” Warner’s eyes blazed with intense concentration as if he were crunching data with a built-in in computer in his head.
“TherewassomethingMarcussaid.” Lonniepickedupherpurseandrummagedinsideit. “Letmegivehimacallandhavehimtellyouexactly.” Sheslumpedinexasperation. “Ileftmyphoneinthehotelroom. I’mgoingtorunuptogetit.Youguyskeeptalking—I’ll bebackinacoupleofminutes.”
“I’llpayforyourlunch,Lonnie,and we’llmeetatthelobbyofthehotel,” Hilde said. “Aboutfifteenminutes.”
“Okay, thanks” Lonnie said. “Seeyouthereinfifteenminutes.” Sherushedoutthedoorasfastasherpregnantformcouldmove.
Warnerleanedintothetable. “Weinspectedaprettylongsegmentofthe undergroundtunnelsaroundtheparkstripanddowntown.Ididn’tseeanyovertsignsoftampering—just normalmaintenance.”
“Ofcourse,” Tomer said, “ifthisguyisapetroleumengineer,hewouldknowhowtohidehiswork.”
“Let’sgetsomebombdogsdowninthosetunnels,” Tonia said. “Thatseemstobethemostlikelyplacetotrysomething.”
Tomernodded. “It’dhavetobeaprettybigbombtoblowthroughthegroundandstillhaveenoughpowertokillthepresident.”
“Butit’s possible.It’salwaystheunknownstuffthatgetsyou,” Warner said. “We’llhavesnipersontheroofsallaround,plainclothesagentsmixedintothecrowd,anddogsallovertheplace.It would notbeeasytogetanykindofattackby on the surface,unlesstheyplanabattalion-strength assault.”
“Otherscenarioshere,folks,” Toniasaid. “Weneedtothinkofotherscenarios.”
“Hereisnottheplacetogetintodetails,” Tomer said. “Let’sheadbacktotheoffice.”
“Okay,” Hilde said. “I’llgogetLonnieandmeetyouguysat the FBI building.”
HildepaidhersandLonnie’s bills.ToniapaidforhersandTomer’s.
“Hey,I’vegotperdiem,” shesaidwithawink. “I’llcoveryou,Tony.”
Warnerwaslasttopay.WhenMyriamhandedbackhisreceipt,Warnerfeltsomethingextrainhishand.Helookedatitbeforepocketingtheregisterreceipt.Myriamhadincludedaslip of paper withherphonenumberonit.He lookedupinsurprise.
Shesmiled,andastheothersturnedaway, shemouthedthewords“callme.” Thelate-afternoonsunlightglintedoffhergoldnosestudandhereyessparkled.AweakgrintwitchedatthecornersofWarner’smouth,theblushreturningtohischeeks. He turnedandfollowedtheothersoutthedoor.
Chapter17
Lonnieenteredherhotelroomandmadeanotherbathroomstoptorelievetheconstantpressurethebabyplacedonherbladder.Shecameout,pickedupherphone,andputitinherpurse,thenglancedquicklyaroundtheroomtomakesureshewasn’tforgettingsomethingbeforesteppingbackoutthedoor.Itshutwithasolidclickandshe tried the handle, verifying it was locked before she movedtowardtheelevators.
Twomaintenancemeninbrowncoverallswereputtingtoolsinacanvasbagasshepassedthem.Sheheardthezippershutonthebag,thenthesoundoftheirheavyfootstepsbehindherasshedrewneartheelevator.Asshe came to a stop in front of theelevatordoor,sheglancedatapolishedbrassplaqueonthewallinfrontofher.Inthereflection,shesawthetwomenmovingclosebehind.She reached out and pressedthedownbutton.
Thetwomenstoppedbesideher, and she gaveasidewaysglanceupatthem.Onewastall,theothershort,bothwerethicklymuscled.Thetalloneturnedhisfacefullytowardher,lookingdirectlyintohereyes.Lonnie’sheartthumpedapainfulbeatandhereyeswidenedwithsurprise.
“Hey,TrooperWyatt,” saidthe hard-lookingmanwhostareddownather.Atattooofaskullpeekedmalevolentlyabovethecollarofhis coveralls ontherightsideofhisneck.TheNaziSS double lightningboltsymbolbalancedthelookontheleftside.
“LeonardBrassert,whatareyoudoinghere?” sheasked,regaininghercomposureandgivinghimthe coldestlookshecouldmuster. “Theyletyououtforgoodbehavior?”
“Thatdoesn’tmattermuchtoyou. It’spaybacktime,bitch.”
“Areyoustupid,Leonard?Yougoingtoshootmerighthereinfrontofsecurity?” Shepointedtoablackglobethathungfromtheceilinginfrontoftheelevators.
“Icouldn’tgiveashit,” saidthemanasthedoorslidopen. “Getin.”
“No.”
“ThenIwillcutoutyournigger-gookbabyrighthereinthehallwayandleaveyoutowallowinyourownblood.”
Heflickedalong,wicked-lookingknifeintoview.Theothermansteppedintotheelevatorandleanedagainstthebackwall.Lonnieconsideredheroptions.Itwasunlikelyshecouldwinafightagainstthesetwokillersevenifshewasn’tpregnant.Shewasathird-degreeblackbeltinbothTaeKwonDoandHapKiDo.Thatfacthadgivenhertheupperhandinmanyafight,againstbothmaleandfemale opponents, but mostpeopleinfightsarenotinitforlifeordeath.Theygiveupwhenthepainhitsacertainlevel.
LeonardBrassert,ontheotherhand,wasnotheretoplayagame.Anyfightwithhimwouldcertainlyendindeathforatleastoneofthem.Alifeofviolenceintheworldoforganizedcrimeandbikergangshadturnedhimintoananimal.Fiveyearsearlier,she’darrestedhimonmultiplemurder,rape,anddrugcharges.Hehadbeenaccusedofthetortureandexecutionofadrugdealerandhisfamily,buttheprosecutioncouldnotgatherenoughevidencetoproveitandheendedupwithonlyadrugandrobberyconviction and what should’ve been a ten year sentence.Thelookinhiseyesleftnodoubtthatifshedidn’tthinkofsomethingsheandherbabyweregoingtodie.Shedidn’tknowtheotherman,buthisfaceshowednotraceofhumanitywhatsoever. HelookedlikeashorterincarnationofArnoldSchwarzenegger'sTerminatorcharacter.
Itwasmiddayandthehotelwasmostlyempty.Theoccupantsoftheroomswouldbebusilytouringthecity.Thosestilltherewerelikelyasleepinpreparationforthenightlife.She
