The Alexandria Link

SEVENTY-SEVEN

MARYLAND

STEPHANIE LISTENED TO FOX NEWS RADIO. THE CAR BOMBING had been reported, the vehicle’s registration run, and Daley identified. Patrons inside the restaurant had corroborated his physical identification, along with describing a woman who’d been sitting with him. Witnesses had told how the woman and another dark-skinned female fled the scene before police arrived.

Not surprisingly, no press reported that armed men had been found dead a few miles from the scene of the explosion. The Secret Service’s cleanup had been fast and thorough.

They were driving another government car, a Chevy Tahoe, supplied by Daniels. The president wanted them away from Camp David before she made the call. They were now seventy miles south, on the outskirts of northern Washington. She grabbed her cell phone and dialed Green’s mobile number.

“I’ve been waiting,” Green said when he answered. “Have you heard about Daley?”

“We had a front-row seat.” And she told him what happened at the restaurant.

“What were you doing there?”

“Having breakfast. He was buying.”

“Any reason why you’re being flippant?”

“Watching a man die has a way of jading your attitude.”

“What’s happening?” Green asked.

“The same people who killed Daley tried to kill Cassiopeia and me. But we managed to get away. They were apparently on Daley’s tail, and they moved on us right after we left the restaurant.”

“You seem to have a number of lives, Stephanie.”

“Daley told me things, Brent. There’s a lot going on. He was privy to it. He also has proof.”

“Was he the traitor?”

“Hardly. The vice president gets that crown. Daley had amassed quite a lot on the VP.”

She kept the car on the road and listened to the silence on the other end of the phone.

“Solid evidence?”

“Good enough for The Washington Post. He was terrified. That’s why he met with me. He wanted help. He gave some stuff to me.”

“Then your life is at risk, Stephanie.”

“We’ve already figured that one out. Now we need your help.”

“Of course. You’ll have it. What do you want me to do?”

“Those flash drives from Daley’s house. They relate to the evidence I have. Together they’re enough to take the VP down. Once he goes, then we’ll learn the rest, since I doubt he’ll graciously take the fall alone. Treason comes with a harsh penalty. Death is one of the options for the jury.”

More silence.

“Do you know if Cotton has checked in?” she asked.

“I haven’t been told if he has. I’ve heard from no one. How about Thorvaldsen? Has he contacted Cassiopeia?”

“Not a word.”

Her heart sank as she realized that Brent Green was part of what was happening. The pain on her face conveyed to Cassiopeia his betrayal.

“We need to meet, Brent. Privately. Just you, me, and Cassiopeia. How’s your schedule?”

“Nothing I can’t change.”

“Good. Daley has more proof. Stuff he said would conclusively show who else is involved. He’s been amassing it for a while. Those flash drives you have contain taped conversations of the VP’s chief of staff talking about succession after the president is dead. But there’s more. We need to meet at Daley’s house. Can you get there?”

“Of course. You know where the information is hidden?”

“He told me.”

“Then let’s deal with this.”

“That’s the plan. See you there in half an hour.”

She clicked off.

“I’m sorry,” Cassiopeia said.

She wasn’t going to dwell on someone else’s failure. “We have to stay sharp. Green had Daley killed. We know that now. He’s also plotting to kill the president.”

“And us,” Cassiopeia said. “Those men were working for the Saudis. The Saudis apparently think Green and the vice president are on their side. But the VP is also dealing with the Order. Which means the Saudis will never see a thing. The Order will get it all, to use however they want.”

The interstate congealed as they approached central Washington. Stephanie slowed the Tahoe and said, “Let’s hope the Arabs understand that before they decide to deal with us.”