adjusted something in his ear and did so at the same time that the first man was lowering his chin and moving his lips. Hearing aid-style audio receivers. Lapel-button miniature microphones.
But which group-the colonel’s or Alan’s-was tailing Holly? Were they military or civilian, from Special Operations or the Agency? As Holly reached K Street and crossed toward the park, Buchanan got a look at the backs of the men who followed her. They had narrow hips, their torsos veering upward toward broad shoulders, a distinctive build for Special Operations personnel. Their training was designed to make them limber while giving them considerable upper-body strength. Too much muscle in their legs and hips would slow them down. But muscle in the upper body didn’t interfere with anything, creating only advantages. Buchanan himself had once possessed that body build, but since it would identify his background to anyone who understood these matters, he’d cut back on building up his arms and shoulders, going instead for activities that gave him stamina and agility.
Now that he had a distinctive silhouette to look for, he noticed two other men dressed in civilian clothes and with a Special Operations build. The colonel must certainly be apprehensive about her or else he wouldn’t have so many men on her, Buchanan thought. The two men he’d just noticed were ahead of Holly, staking out the park. The only way they could have known to get to the park ahead of her was if they had her phones tapped and knew where and when she had arranged to meet someone named Mike Hamilton. He’d been right to be cautious.
Instead of following Holly into the park, Buchanan hung back, turned right on K Street, and went around the next block. His approach returned him to Fifteenth Street, but this time farther south, where Fifteenth intersected with I Street. From a busy entrance to the Veterans Administration Building, he looked across to the leafless trees in the park and glimpsed Holly sitting on a bench near the statue of General McPherson in the middle of the square. Pedestrians came and went, but the four broad-shouldered men had spread out through the park and were now immobile, on occasion touching an ear or lowering a chin, concentrating on Holly, then switching their attention to anyone who seemed to be approaching her.
How do I get a message to her? Buchanan thought.
Continuing along I Street, he came to a black man who held a small sign that read, I’LL WORK FOR FOOD. The man needed a haircut but had shaved. He wore plain, clean clothes. His leather shoes looked freshly shined but were worn down at the heels.
“Can you spare the price of a hamburger?” the man asked. His eyes showed subdued bitterness. Shame struggled with anger as he tried to maintain his dignity even though he was begging.
“I think I can do better than the price of a hamburger,” Buchanan said.
The man’s eyebrows narrowed. His expression became puzzled, with a trace of wariness.
“You want to work?” Buchanan asked.
“Look, I don’t know what’s on your mind, but I hope it isn’t trouble. The last guy stopped told me if I wanted to work, why the hell didn’t I get a job? He called me a lazy bastard and walked away. Get a job? No shit. I wouldn’t be out here beggin’, lettin’ people call me names if I could find a job.”
“How does this sound?” Buchanan asked. “Five minutes’ work for a hundred dollars?”
“A hundred dollars? For that much money, I’d. . Wait a minute. If this is about drugs or. .”
3
At a safe-site apartment five blocks north of the
“Looks like it’s a no-show,” a man’s voice said. “Whoever this Mike Hamilton is, he was supposed to meet her at twenty after two. But now it’s quarter to three, the drizzle’s turning to rain, and she’s making moves as if that park bench she’s sitting on is awfully cold.”
“Keep watching until she goes back to work and our man in her department can take over watching her,” the colonel said.
“Maybe that’s what she’s doing now. Working,” the man’s voice said. “Just because the guy at the desk next to hers never heard her talk about anybody named Mike Hamilton, that doesn’t mean Hamilton still can’t be a source for a story she’s working on. Hell, for that matter, he might be a friend she knew when she worked in California.”
“Might be, Major? I don’t like my officers to make assumptions. The tapes of the conversations don’t mention California or anything else. She and Hamilton talk as if they’ve got some kind of relationship. But what? It’s all smoke.”
“Well, most people don’t review their life history when they phone somebody for lunch.”
“Are you being sarcastic, Major?”
“No, sir. Definitely not. I’m just trying to think out loud and analyze the problem. I’m guessing that if this meeting with Hamilton has anything to do with us, she wouldn’t be doing it in plain sight. Besides, we checked our computer records. No one named Hamilton was ever associated with our operations.”
“No one named Hamilton?” the colonel said. “Doesn’t it seem relevant to you that one of our specialties is pseudonyms? Damn it, what if Hamilton isn’t his real name?”
The line became silent for a moment. “Yes, sir, I get your point.”
“Since she came back from New Orleans, everything she’s done has been routine. Now, for the first time, she’s doing something that can’t be fully explained. For her sake, I hope it doesn’t involve us. I want to believe what she told Buchanan, that she’s given up the story. But I also want to know who the hell Mike Hamilton is.”
“Colonel, you can depend on me to. . Hold it. I’m getting a report from the surveillance team. . Somebody’s approaching the woman.”
The colonel stopped moving, stopped blinking, stopped breathing. He stared at the opposite wall.
“False alarm, sir,” the voice said. “It’s a black guy with a sign about needing a job. He’s trying to beg from everybody in the park.”
The colonel exhaled and seemed to come out of a trance. “Maintain surveillance. Keep me informed. I want to know what that woman’s doing every second.” With force, he terminated the connection.
From a chair in the corner of the room, Alan studied him. “Why don’t you give it a rest? Whatever happens will happen regardless if you’re staring at the phone.”
“You don’t seem to take this seriously.”
“Oh, I take it very seriously,” Alan said. “To me, this is a sign of how out of control this operation has become. Instead of taking care of business, you’re wasting all your resources worrying about Buchanan and this reporter.”
“Wasting?”
“As far as I’m concerned, both problems are solved. Let Buchanan keep digging a hole to bury himself. He’s gone-and I say fine. He’ll act his way into oblivion. About the reporter-hey, without Buchanan she doesn’t have a story. It’s as simple as that. If she breaks her agreement, we’ll deny everything she says, accuse her of putting her career ahead of the truth, and challenge her to produce this mysterious man she claims was God knows how many people.”
“Maybe she can.”
“What are you talking about?” Alan asked.
“She’s the reason Buchanan walked away from us,” the colonel said. “But maybe it’s not just professional. He tried to protect her, after all. Maybe there’s something personal between them.”
Alan frowned.
“One of Buchanan’s talents is changing his voice, imitating other people,” the colonel said. “Hasn’t it occurred to you that no matter what this guy sounds like on tape, Mike Hamilton could be Buchanan?”
4
Before Holly had returned to Washington from New Orleans, there hadn’t been time for Buchanan to explain all the basics of how to behave if she thought she was being watched. The most important thing, he’d emphasized,
