The Sixth Man

CHAPTER 83

KELLY PAUL GAZED up at the Washington Monument. If she were going to have an observation post here, that would have been the one she would choose. As she continued to watch, her surveillance seemed to pay off.

James Harkes exited the monument, turned left, and headed toward ground zero. She followed his path until he disappeared into the crowds.

Paul walked for a while longer before glancing at the man next to her.

Peter Bunting was dressed in faded jeans and a college sweatshirt. A ball cap was on his head and he was holding a sign that read, Make Babies, Not War.

“You blend in nicely at a peace rally, Peter, particularly for a defense contractor,” she told him dryly.

Bunting did not smile at her little joke. “How many do you think they have here?”

“More than they need. Overwhelming force is not just a government prerogative.”

“Do you think Quantrell or Foster are here?”

“Nowhere near the place. Leaders invariably let their minions fight it out.”

“Do you think it will become violent?”

“I have no way to know. I hope not, but it’s really out of my control.”

He gazed at her with respect. “You don’t seem nervous.”

“On the contrary, I am very nervous.”

“You hide it well.”

“Yes I do. And you need to do the same.”

The whole time she was talking she was watching everything going on around them.

“What do you think they did with Avery’s body?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’d like to give him a proper burial.”

“Fine, Peter. But for now let’s focus on those still breathing.”

She looked at her watch.

One hour to go.

Megan Riley was wedged between two large men who had guns under their parkas. Her hair was filthy, her face was unclean, and there was a deep bruise on her left cheek from a blow she had suffered. Her wrists were rubbed raw from handcuffs she’d worn. Her blouse underneath the jacket was smeared with blood. She had lost weight and her eyes seemed unfocused. She trudged along, her gaze downcast.

Up ahead was the Air and Space Museum. If she recognized it, Riley gave no reaction.

There was now only ten minutes to go.

James Harkes moved through the crowds at a measured pace. He knew exactly where each of his men was positioned. The timing had to be precise. He looked ahead and saw Riley and her two bodyguards heading toward the museum. Riley had been told that she would be killed if she made a sound.

He looked in the other direction. The woman was tall and wore a dark trench coat nearly down to her ankles. The man next to her was taller. He was dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt and held a sign. They were working their way toward ground zero.

On the north side of the Mall Harkes spotted the man in the wheelchair. He was being pushed along by his companion. The dark-haired woman marched beside them. Their destination seemed to be ground zero too.

Harkes picked up his pace and reached in his pocket. He had to assume that everyone would be armed. If they weren’t they were fools. He said a few words that were picked up by a communication device in his ear.

He glanced at his watch.

Two minutes to go.

Sean and Michelle were almost there. He tapped Roy on the shoulder.

“One minute,” he said softly.

Roy nodded and put his hands on his thighs, tensing his body.

Michelle said, “See any of them yet?”

“Not yet. But they’re here.”

She nudged him with her arm. “Megan between two goons at five o’clock.”

Sean saw this. “She looks like shit.”

“This is going to be tight. You know that.”

“It’s always tight. Do you see Paul and Bunting?”

She nodded slightly. “Nine o’clock.”

Sean glanced that way. “Do you think she sees Megan?”

“I think the lady doesn’t miss much.”

“Get in Secret Service mode, Michelle. Assess threats from all angles.”

“That’s what I’ve been doing ever since we stepped foot on the Mall.”

Kelly Paul gripped Bunting around the elbow. “Thirty seconds.”

“I know,” he said. “Do you see Riley?”

“Have for the last four minutes. Quantrell’s boys on either side of her.”

“How many more around?”

“At least ten, I would think. I don’t know the exact number.”

Bunting stiffened when he saw the man.

He was gliding along; his movements seemed effortless as he slipped through the crowd. This time he was not wearing a black suit, tie, and white shirt, though. The sunglasses hid his eyes, but Bunting was certain they were registering on everything.

“Harkes! Harkes is here.”

“Of course he is,” said Paul softly. “Where the hell do you think he’d be?”

“He scares the shit out of me.”

“He should. We’ve got ten seconds.”

Bunting started breathing fast. “Tell me this is going to be okay, Kelly.”

She gripped his arm tighter. “Almost there, Peter. Keep it together. Almost there.”

She looked at her watch, picked up her pace.

It was all dead ahead.

This was her world. This was Kelly Paul’s version of the Wall.

Five… four… three… two…