Hell's Corner

CHAPTER 60

The next morning Chapman slowly woke, turned to the side, fell off the cot and hit the floor hard.

“Bloody hell!”

She rubbed her head.

She glanced up to see Stone standing in front of her holding two cups of coffee.

“Good morning,” he said pleasantly.

She sat on the cot and took the offered coffee. She winced and rubbed her head as she drank some.

“My head feels quite ready to burst.”

He said, “Four mojitos, two vodka tonics and a glass of port. And that’s just what I saw. I’m stunned you still have a head left.”

“I told you I could hold my liquor.”

“Why don’t you shower and then we can grab some breakfast.”

“Wonderful. I’m famished. I know a nice restaurant.”

“I know a better one.”

“I’ll be ready in ten minutes.”

Forty minutes later they were in downtown D.C. and in line with a group of construction workers ordering breakfast at a food truck a few blocks from the Capitol. They carried their egg sandwiches and hash browns over to Chapman’s car and sat on the hood hungrily eating their meal.

Her mouth full of scrambled eggs, Chapman moaned. “God, this is good.”

“It’s the lard, I think,” said Stone, munching on a hash brown. “And the fact that they never wash their frying pan.”

Finished, they climbed in Chapman’s ride and drove off.

“Where to?”

“The park.”

“Hell’s Corner. It’s living up to its name.”

“I wonder how NIC is doing this morning.”

“Based on what happened last night, probably not great.” She skimmed her fingers across the steering wheel. “Look, I know what you did last night. You effectively blocked Weaver from taking action against me for telling you about my other mission. It was neatly done.”

“I’ve been in this business long enough to know how it really operates. I needed him to back off, but he has lots of assets. So I also need his help and focus.”

“How much do you intend on telling him? I mean about what you’ve figured out?”

“A lot. Again, he has resources we don’t. And the primary objective is the same for us both. To prevent whatever is coming.”

“You think it really is in the planning stages?”

“It’s past the planning stage. Now it’s in the execution stage.”

“And the Russians? Pretty formidable foes.”

“Yes.”

“I’ve had a few run-ins with them. They can get pretty nasty.”

Stone said nothing.

“You spent time in Russia. At least that’s what your file says.”

“I did.”

“Cold War era?”

“Yes.”

“How was it?”

“It was what it was.”

“Was your mission successful?”

“I came back alive, so I’d say yes, it was.”

She drove on.

Twenty minutes later Stone and she were standing in the office building from where they’d deduced the guns had been fired. He opened one of the windows.

“What are we looking for?” she asked. “This building has the height to give it a direct sightline to the park. But we’d already established that.”

“I know. But I think there’s something else.”

“Like what?”

“If I knew that I wouldn’t be here looking out the window.”

He continued to gaze down at the park and then onward, south to the White House. There was something in the depths of his mind that he knew was important, but he couldn’t recall it. He had seen it, he was sure of that. In fact he had seen it in the park. But it wouldn’t come. He’d racked his brain all morning, but that focus had only served to bury the potential answer even more deeply.

Chapman leaned against the window and stared at him.

“It’s hurting my brain watching your brain burn itself out.”

“Let’s go. I need to check the message board at Georgetown University.”

“You into social networking with college students?”

“No. My target is a little older.”