The Inner Circle

78

Tot purposely chose one of the SCIFs on the opposite side of the building.

He picked one that was assigned to the Legislative folks. The head of the Legislative SCIFs was a middle-aged guy who spent his nights playing Adams Morgan clubs with a happy but untalented rocksteady and reggae band. He’d never know the room was being used.

Still, Tot was careful as he came over. He did his usual weaving through the stacks, kept his face off the cameras, and even knew to avoid the elderly volunteers who they’d packed into one of the suites on the eighteenth floor to sort through the recently unearthed Revolutionary War widow pension files.

In fact, to actually get in the room, he was smart enough to avoid using the regular door code.

And smart enough to instead use the security staff’s override code.

And smart enough to pick one of the few SCIFs in the building that didn’t have a single surveillance camera (which is how most Senators and Members preferred it).

But the one thing Tot did that was smartest of all?

He made sure he wasn’t working this alone.

On his right, the quarter-inch vault door clicked and thunked, then opened with a pneumatic pop.

“You’re late,” Tot said.

“You’re wrong,” Khazei said as the door slammed behind him. “I’m right on time.”