Yet he didn’t want it to end. Not really. Because that scenario would mean that Annabelle would be on her way. He sighed. She would probably be on her way regardless. And maybe that was a good thing, at least officially. After all, she was a con, and he was a cop, and if that wasn’t human oil and water, he didn’t know what was.
He glanced in the direction of the bedroom once more.
When she woke up what could he do? Ask her to please stay? He could invent some lie.
The next second he stopped thinking about that issue. They were just about to receive visitors, unwelcome ones from the looks of things.
Alex bent low, slipped to the window and looked out. Down the gravel drive, nearly out of sight, was a vehicle that he didn’t recognize. It was a nondescript black van. Alex hated nondescript black vans. They often carried nondescript men with large guns and bad attitudes. This fear was confirmed when he grabbed a pair of night binoculars from a shelf and used them to take a closer look. There was a small satellite receiver pod on the roof of the van. And if he’d still had lingering doubts, the movement in the bushes next to his house erased them. People in the bushes, satellite vans, maybe the glint of rifle optics in the moonlight-none of it was making Alex feel too good right now. And he’d thought nearly losing his life once already tonight was enough.
Yet this was a tad different from the encounter with Jerry Bagger. This had government strike team written all over it. And why would the government be bothering with one of its own? Alex nearly instantly answered his own question.
Carter Gray couldn’t find Oliver Stone so he’d decided to cast his net wider. Whether this was actually true or not, Alex wasn’t going to wait to find out. He had already had one near-death face-off with Carter Gray at Murder Mountain; he had no desire to go for a second round.
He grabbed a set of keys off the hook over the kitchen phone and raced to the bedroom. Clamping a hand over Annabelle’s mouth in case she screamed at being awoken from a dead sleep, he whispered, “Someone’s outside. Get dressed. Fast. We have to roll.”
Annabelle had barely thrown on her clothes and grabbed her bag when two men came through the front door and another pair through the rear. They had body armor and MP-5s and Alex’s pistol would be no match for them. So he opted for going out the door off the kitchen leading to the garage.
“Stop!” one of the armored men called out to them from the hall.
Alex had no intention of doing anything other than running like hell. He only bothered to open the garage door enough to let his Corvette scoot underneath, clearing it by about an inch. He grabbed another gear and they shot down the gravel road past the van right as the front door of his house burst open. As the Corvette spat rocks in all directions, bursts of machine-gun fire zipped over their heads. Annabelle ducked down in her seat.
“Damn it!” Alex cried out.
“Are you hit?” Annabelle said anxiously, as she sat back up.
“No, but I think one of the shots hit the car.”
He screeched onto the main road, keeping his foot mashed to the floor. He looked in the mirror and breathed a sigh of relief. There was no one back there.
“Alex, what’s happening?”
“I wish I knew, Annabelle.”
“Where are we going?”
“I wish I knew that too. Hold on.”
He speed-dialed one of his buddies at the Service’s WFO, or Washington Field Office, where he was stationed.
“Bobby, it’s Alex. Something really weird is going on, man.”
“Like what?”
Alex filled him in. “I don’t know who those guys were, but they were carrying some serious hardware. Find out anything on your end and then call me back.”
He hung up and looked at Annabelle. “Bobby’s good, he’ll be able to dig up something to help us.”
“Why don’t you just go to your headquarters or whatever you call it? We should be safe there.”
“I would except for one little tiny problem.”
“What’s that?”
“I’ve seen the jumpsuits those guys were in before.”
“Where?”
“At a joint exercise the Service did down at Camp Peary.”
“Is it that bad?” she said, looking at him uneasily.
“It’s one of the CIA’s main training facilities, known as the Farm.”
“The CIA!”
“Their paramilitary units wear that sort of gear.”
“The CIA has paramilitary units?”
“Yeah, is that a secret outside the Beltway?”
“So you’re saying our own government might be after us?”
“That’s right.”
“We got rid of a psychopath casino owner, my father just blew himself up and now the CIA’s on our ass?”
“That sums it up pretty accurately.”
“I have to say you’re taking it very calmly.”
“If nothing else, the Service teaches its agents to remain cool. But I have to admit, it’s getting more difficult by the minute.”
“It’s nice to know you’re human. What now?”
“As much as I hate to do it, we have to ditch my Corvette and find a place to hole up. Then we wait to hear back from Bobby and hope it’s good news. But I sort of doubt it will be.”
CHAPTER 82
THEY JETTISONED ALEX’S CORVETTE, grabbed a cab to Old Town Alexandria and then walked to a nearby motel. Annabelle checked in paying cash and using her fake ID while Alex hid outside. They went to their room and bolted the door.
An hour later Bobby called back. That he was whispering told Alex all he needed to know.
“The official story we just got in is you opened fire on federal agents who were attempting to make an arrest at your house. And that you’re harboring an unnamed fugitive, a woman. None of us believe it, Alex, but the director’s going nuts. Word is he and the CIA director just had a dustup on the phone.”
“Those
“Hey, I’m on your side. You didn’t walk out of the office today and become a felon. But you still better come in and give your side of things.” He paused. “Alex,
Alex stared over at Annabelle, who looked anxiously back at him. “Thanks, Bobby. I’ll be in touch.”
He clicked off and threw the phone down on the bed in disgust. “Okay, we’ve obviously been teleported to an alternate universe where all the good guys are screwed.”
Annabelle sat down on the bed next to him. “Thank you.”
“Look, sarcasm I can do without right now.”
“I’m not being sarcastic. I’m thanking you for saving my life tonight.
“I’m sorry, Annabelle. I just didn’t see this twist coming until it was too late.”
“But why would the CIA target us?”
