“About a half-mile ahead is the end of the runway. Looks like the bleachers are still there.”
“Bleachers?”
“Yeah. The jogging path goes right by the airport. Someone set up bleachers just on the other side of the fence surrounding the airport. A lot of people take breaks and watch the planes taking off. Three more are ready to go.” Erica paused. “Why did Lobec do it?”
Kevin looked at her. “You mean shoot Bern?” She nodded. “He probably wanted Adamas for himself. Once he got all of us out of the way, he could disappear and sell it to the highest bidder. Of course, after he applied for the patent. It would be no good without the patent protection.”
“Who was the guy in charge? The Texan?”
“Yeah, Clayton Tarnwell. He owns a mining and chemical company. Tarnwell would probably go after him, but this guy Lobec is smart. He would have gotten away.”
Kevin massaged his eyelid, working the object down from the top of the eyeball. When he realized what it was, he turned and ducked to get out of the wind. Slowly, carefully, he worked it down until it was over his cornea. He blinked several times to clear his vision.
“Got it!”
“Got what?” Erica said in a confused voice.
“My contact. The left one didn’t come out after all. It just got pushed up under the top eyelid.” Kevin looked around at the boat. For the first time, he could see the inside of the fiberglass hull in detail. The bow was open and lined on either side with bench seats. An aisle split the main console, which had a bucket seat behind it on either side. More bench seats lined the aft section. A 100 hp Mercury outboard thrashed a spray of water into the air.
When his eyes reached the top of the ladder fastened to the back of the boat, he stopped. Erica had been focusing on piloting the boat since they left the bridge, and Kevin’s eyesight had been too poor to notice before. But now that he had his corrected vision back, it was stomach-wrenchingly obvious.
One hand curled over the back of the boat, knuckles fiercely gripping the hull. Then a grimacing face rose above the hand. David Lobec’s eyes locked with Kevin’s. Kevin could only stare in disbelief as Lobec smiled and continued to pull himself up.
CHAPTER 36
After he had been hit in the head by Hamilton back on the Arlington Memorial Bridge, Lobec had been dazed for only a second, but it had been enough for the two of them to jump over the side of the bridge without Lobec firing a shot. It was uncharacteristic of Lobec to get distracted, but he had taken undeniable pleasure in shooting the insufferable Bern. The temporary lapse had been enough for the resourceful Hamilton.
Lobec had recovered quickly from the blow and run over to see Hamilton splash to the surface, his girlfriend already taking cover under the bridge at the next pylon west. Unfortunately, some of the passing cars stopped upon seeing what happened, and their passengers got out to investigate, leaving no chance for Lobec to take them out from above. Jensen and Hamilton disappeared under the bridge.
For the benefit of the bystanders, Lobec pointed at Bern and yelled, “My God! That man shot him and jumped off the bridge!” Then he began running.
If there had been men stationed at the ends of the bridge, they could have intercepted Jensen and Hamilton. But he had lied to Tarnwell. Extra men wouldn’t have fit into Lobec’s plans. Just before he had left for the rendezvous, he had told them to stay at the mansion.
Lobec ran toward Virginia, pausing at the next pylon to see if he could find them. That’s when he heard the boat’s motor fire up and realized they would get away unless he did something. He knew that there were only a few small docks north of the bridge, so he took a chance that they were headed south.
Lobec tucked the SIG Sauer he’d used to shoot Bern into the waistband of his shorts and sprinted through the slow-moving traffic, crossing the six lanes in seconds. Without stopping, he leaped off the opposite side of the bridge. When he surfaced, the boat was roaring out from under the bridge three feet in front of him. He lunged forward and barely grabbed the aft ladder as the boat skimmed by. He gritted his teeth as the force of the jolt dislocated his left shoulder, nearly ripping his arm from its socket. He couldn’t be sure, but it appeared that neither Hamilton nor his girlfriend had seen him.
It had taken all of his concentration to keep his legs from being tossed by the waves into the exposed propeller. After a minute, though, he was able to raise himself enough to get a foothold on the ladder. Then the climb had gotten easy. He had not been surprised to see Hamilton watching as his head rose above the boat’s edge. He even smiled at seeing Hamilton’s shocked face, although the surprise had come earlier than he had hoped it would.
Hamilton’s inaction lasted only a fraction of a second. Cursing, he began fumbling with a bag lying next to him. The girl turned around and screamed when she saw Lobec.
“Shake him loose!” Hamilton yelled.
Lobec was not all the way into the boat and had to hold on tightly to keep from being thrown into the water as Jensen tossed the boat side to side.
Hamilton found what he was looking for, withdrawing a Glock pistol from the bag. He chambered a round. Then he yelled in the girl’s direction.
“Okay. Stop the boat.” Hamilton held the Glock with both hands. They were still chained together by the handcuffs.
Jensen pushed the throttle to STOP and turned to face Lobec.
“Keep your hands where I can see them,” Hamilton said.
Lobec was still only halfway into the boat and could not draw the SIG Sauer in his waistband because his right hand was holding him onto the ladder and his left was useless. He couldn’t raise his arm enough to grab the pistol let alone fire it accurately.
With the Glock trained on him by the marksman Lobec knew Hamilton to be, Lobec slowly eased his legs over the side of the boat without trying to draw.
“That’s far enough,” Hamilton said. “Now with the thumb and forefinger of your right hand grab only the butt of the pistol in your shorts and drop it on the deck.”
At a range of three meters, Hamilton would not miss if Lobec tried to draw the awkward pistol and silencer combination. He did as he was told and dropped it to the deck.
“Good. Now slide it over here with your right foot.”
“Or what,” Lobec said. “Or you will shoot me?”
“You killed my father. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t blow your head off.” Kevin had to raise his voice to be heard over the sound of jet engines powering up at the end of National’s runway.
“Kevin, don’t,” Erica said.
“He will not, Miss Jensen. And I have a very good reason for you not to kill me. You’ll never know what this is all about. Besides, I am an unarmed man. I know for a fact that you have never shot anyone in your life. And you won’t shoot me.” He moved his left leg forward. Even with his dislocated shoulder, Lobec merely had to get close enough to disarm Hamilton. At most, two arm’s lengths away would do it.
With the quickness of a cat, Hamilton shifted the gun and shot Lobec in the left calf. Lobec stumbled, for the first time surprised by Hamilton, but he caught himself before falling, balancing on the other leg. He didn’t look down. The pain was no worse than other gunshot injuries he’d endured, probably little more than a flesh wound.
“Are you convinced now?” Kevin pointed the pistol at Lobec’s head.
“Quite.” With his right foot, Lobec tapped the SIG Sauer, which slid along the floor to Hamilton’s feet.
“All right then,” Hamilton said as he slowly dipped to the deck to pick up the SIG, never once taking his eyes off Lobec. He put the pistol in his waistband. “I decided I wanted to hear what you have to say. Now sit down on that cushion.” Hamilton pointed at the back of the boat with his head. “And remember to keep your hands in the air.”
