Brothers In Arms (52 page)

From almost directly in front of him, a young family, a mother and father and their toddler, crossed the street from the steps of the Air and Space Museum and walked toward the target bench. Charley swore under his breath. The One was halfway across the lawn and already within the invisible net spread for him. They couldn’t have a family in the middle of the takedown.

He whispered into his microphone. “All stations, Zero. Change of plan. We’re going to take him as he’s walking. Steer clear of the civilians near the bench. Alpha-Team makes initial contact on my command. Stand by, stand by, stand by.”

Alpha-Team, the group of operators playing Frisbee, began to shorten the length of their throws, pulling them closer together. Youssef bin Hassan drew abreast of them, and angled around their play.

The close-cropped hairs on the back of Youssef’s neck dripped sweat. He shrugged, irritated by the sensation, and wiped his hand across the back of his neck. All his senses seemed more acute. The
hiss of grass scuffing beneath his shoes, the slow progress of a drop of sweat across his brow, the individual voices of the people around him calling to each other, all of it seemed so immediate, demanding what little remained of his attention.

A Frisbee disk skittered across the grass and landed at his feet.

Youssef looked up and saw the Frisbee players jogging toward him. “Little help?” one of them said, pointing at the disk.

Youssef looked over his shoulder then, and saw others closing on him, their eyes bright with the gleam of hunters, and he knew.

“He is going to run,” Isabelle said. She leaned forward like a starter in the blocks.

Charley took her shoulder and held her as he said into his microphone, “All stations, go, go, go!”

Youssef spun to his left and ran toward Fourth Street, in the direction of the US Capitol building. He dropped the newspaper from his hand and pulled his courier bag across his chest as he deftly sidestepped one of the federal agents reaching for him and ran as though herding the ball down a crowded soccer field. The apprehension team, all pretense abandoned, raced after him. He fumbled with the straps on his courier bag as he ran, then pulled the Pelican case from within, then spun to face his pursuers. He held the case up as though it were a totem that might stop the rush of men and women at him, and then he felt a mighty blow against one leg as a big man kicked him right on his nerve plexus and another man snatched his hand and a woman plucked the Pelican case free. Then his legs flew out from beneath him and all he saw was a dizzying whirl of grass and buildings and sky. He was ringed by men and women while hard hands held him to the ground and he struggled until someone struck a hard blow against the nerves on the side of his neck and he felt a feathery lassitude come over him, and it was as if he floated on the finest of beds, lingering in the dreamy space that comes right before the endless sleep of night.

The curtains on the one big window were thrown back, so that the room was washed in light. The walls were a cheery yellow highlighted by paintings of wildflowers, and the two richly upholstered armchairs were blue. Charley sat in one of the chairs and watched Dale Miller breathe. He watched for the rise of the chest, and the slow fall; his friend’s breaths were deep and sure. Dale’s face was pale, and the skin beneath his closed eyes appeared bruised. His head was swathed in bandages.

“So that’s how it went down, partner,” Charley said. “Young Mr. Hassan is singing and singing. Our girlfriend Isabelle was right . . . they had the wrong guy for the job. He was thinking of ditching the whole thing before we got to him. And Al-Bashir . . . well, your brothers in
DOMINANCE RAIN
and a couple of other outfits have been taking them apart, one cell at a time. Al-Bashir is dying, bro, in Sudan, Somalia, Yemen, everywhere they had an operation.”

He laughed softly. “Oh, you’d get a kick out of how the bureaucrats scurried around this one, bro. They couldn’t do enough for me. They’re going to take good care of you. Only the best, I made sure of that. And I’ll be back to check on you to make sure it stays that way. It may be a while before you’re healed enough to know, but I’ll be back to see you.”

Charley stood, then went to Dale’s bedside and watched his friend inhale and exhale. The sound of breathing was loud in the room.

“Good-bye, bro.”

Charley Payne sat at his favorite outdoor table at the Linden Hills Diner and watched the traffic flow by. The day’s
Star Tribune
, two dirty dishes and a half-full coffee cup cluttered his table. He lifted his cup and took a slow sip of the still-hot coffee, his eyes closed in a moment’s satisfaction.

Life was good.

He opened his eyes and by habit scanned near, and then far, watching for . . . what? He laughed at himself and the force of habit. Then he glanced down at his shirt front.

A small red dot of laser light bounced on his sternum.

Charley’s breath caught in his chest, and, keeping both hands on the table, he looked up and across the street. Isabelle Andouille leaned against a car parked on the far side of the street, a laser pointer in her hand. She smiled as she put the pointer into the pocket of her snug-fitting walking shorts, and waited for a break in the traffic before she crossed. Men looked at her and she ignored them; her eyes were for Charley.

“Hello, Charley,” she said.

“You have an unusual way of announcing your presence,” he said.

She laughed. “I like your neighborhood. It reminds me of home.”

“Yes, it would. How are Marie and Ilse?”

“Very fine, thank you. They are quite happy. Your generosity has made our life very easy.”

“Nothing you didn’t earn, Isabelle.”

She thrust both hands into her pocket and continued standing over Charley, who shielded his eyes to look up at her. She was silent for a long moment, as though considering something, then she took her left hand out of her pocket and set a slip of paper on the table before Charley.

“What’s this?” he said.

“My phone number,” Isabelle said. “We should work together sometime.”