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NEW COVENANT CHURCH
WASHINGTON DC

The church glowed in the light from powerful lamps set into the lawns that cast their beams across the facade as Lopez drove Ethan into the parking lot.

“It’s huge,” Ethan said as they pulled up and Lopez killed the engine.

“Biggest in the District,” Lopez agreed, climbing out. “Patterson’s property portfolio is worth millions of dollars alone.”

Ethan fought down a surge of fury at the opulence of the church as he envisioned Joanna, a genuine messenger of truth, either dead or abducted and held beneath ground in a hot, dusty chamber in some obscure derelict building in Gaza City.

“Looks like there’s a few people inside,” he said.

“Which bothers me,” Lopez said. “Patterson was endorsing Senator Black’s presidential campaign. Thought he’d be at the rally by now.”

Ethan peered into the foyer and saw a pair of heavily built men in suits standing with their hands clasped before them, talking to another smaller man.

“That’s him,” Lopez said urgently, pointing at the small man, who turned and walked out of sight down a corridor away from the foyer.

“You ever heard of a church needing door security?” Ethan asked.

“No,” Lopez said. “Maybe we should find another way in. Patterson may know we’re coming.”

“They’ll have locked every other entrance if they’re expecting visitors,” Ethan said, the fury still coursing through his veins. “You look to see where Patterson’s gone. Leave the guards to me.”

Lopez threw Ethan a mock salute as she followed him.

Ethan made his way to the two huge glass double doors and eased his way inside. One of the two guards lumbered over to intercept him in the foyer.

“Have I come at a bad time?” Ethan muttered.

“The church is closed,” the guard said, reaching out and grabbing Ethan’s arm.

As the guard yanked him back toward the doors, Ethan turned and pushed him off balance before slamming the palm of his right hand under the guard’s jaw. The heavily built man staggered backward and crashed down across a table that snapped in half beneath his weight with a crackle of splintered wood.

Ethan turned as the second security guard rushed him and a meaty shoulder ploughed into his belly. Ethan felt himself hurled onto his back on the thick carpet, the security guard pinning him down before reaching out to grab his wrists. Ethan waited until the guard got hold of them and pushed them toward the ground, before he arched his back and butted his head forward. His skull impacted the guard’s nose, shattering the nasal bridge with a crunch. Ethan thumped his knee into the man’s groin, and the guard rolled off him with a strangled groan.

Ethan leaped to his feet to see the other guard draw a pistol and aim it at him.

“Stay where you are, hands on your head.”

Ethan obeyed as the guard edged closer, the gun never wavering from Ethan’s face.

“On your knees.”

“Go to hell.”

The second guard staggered to his feet before slamming a fist deep into Ethan’s flank. Ethan gasped as pain erupted across his side and he sank to his knees. The guard was about to speak when Lopez pushed through the glass doors with her pistol in one hand and her badge in the other.

“Metro PD, drop your weapon now!”

The guards turned in surprise and Ethan jerked upright and backward onto his feet, slamming into the man behind him. The guard staggered backward into the wall as Ethan turned and grabbed his pistol wrist before the guard could bring his weapon to bear. Ethan yanked the arm toward him, turning and throwing the man over his shoulder before twisting his wrist away from the direction of the fall and stomping down on his armpit.

The tendons in the guard’s shoulder rippled as they parted under the sudden unbearable pressure, a gargled scream issuing from his mouth as the pistol was ripped from his grasp. Ethan lifted his boot and delivered a sharp blow to the guard’s temple, abruptly cutting the scream off.

Lopez looked at the remaining guard, who had turned to point his gun at Ethan.

“Don’t even think about it,” she said. “Drop it.”

The guard obeyed, and Ethan strode across to him and smashed the butt of his pistol across his temple, the man collapsing instantly onto his side.

Lopez picked up the guard’s pistol. “Didn’t fancy talking it over with them then.”

“Where’d Patterson go?” Ethan asked.

“Leave the guards to me,” Lopez echoed. “You think you’re Russell Crowe or something?”

“Patterson,” Ethan said sternly. Lopez watched him silently for a moment. “I’m not going to kill him,” Ethan promised.

“Sure,” Lopez murmured.

“Unless he tries to kill us.”

Lopez said nothing, leading him in the direction Patterson had vanished. Ethan followed her down a long corridor until they reached a large door at the end bearing Patterson’s name.

Lopez tried the door handle.

“Locked.”

Ethan stood back. This would be the moment to heroically kick the door down, but in truth doors couldn’t be opened easily in that way.

“If we use guns and he’s here, he’ll hear us,” Lopez said.

Ethan looked around and saw a seat with velvet cushions back down the corridor. He strolled across and picked the cushions up before returning to the door. Lopez understood immediately, aiming at the door as Ethan pressed the cushions against the lock. Lopez buried the muzzle of her pistol into the cushions and fired three times.

Ethan heard the metallic crunch as the door lock was mangled under the blasts amid splintering wood. Lopez pulled back as Ethan dropped the cushions and pushed on the door handle. The heavy door opened partially, enough for Ethan to see the shattered locking mechanism.

Ethan leaned out, and then barged his shoulder into the door.

The door flew open, Lopez rushing past him into the office with her pistol held before her. Ethan looked at the broad windows and the huge chrome crucifix on the wall.

“He’s not here.”

“You didn’t tell me you were a genius,” Lopez muttered, looking around her. “He’s got to be around somewhere.”

“You sure he came in here?”

“I look like a moron?”

“No, but he could have sneaked off somewhere else.”

“He didn’t,” Lopez said. “He came in here, I saw him, and there’s no other exit from the corridor.”

A flash of light caught Ethan’s eyes as it traveled across the wall in front of him, and he turned to look back out into the corridor. Through a window on the opposite wall, he saw pulsing strobes and car headlights flash past as they entered the parking lot outside.

“Wherever he is, we’d better find him fast,” Lopez said. “The FBI’s here.”

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