The Foundation: Jack Emery 1 (19 page)

Hickens held out his hand to her. “Simon Hickens, at your service.”

Celeste rolled her eyes as she shook his hand, and made a particular note of his ring finger. “Celeste Adams. How is it you don’t have a wife? You’re such a charmer.”

“Standards. You see, the average woman just can’t hope to live up to this.” He gestured up and down. “I’m like the Chelsea FC of single guys. A challenger might come along, get some luck or buy themselves into contention, but everyone knows who’ll last.”

Jack laughed and Celeste rolled her eyes again. If there was one thing Hickens was known for in addition to his skills with a computer, it was his big talk with the ladies.

Hickens grinned. “Now, your average woman, she’s peaked at about twenty-eight, thirty tops. After that, it’s all downhill. Give it another couple of years and you’ll be all jiggle-jiggle yourself, love, and for a discerning sort like myself, that’s just not cricket.

“Your average bloke, on the other hand, doesn’t really hit his prime until later. Simple economics, and knowledge that the curls get the girls.” Hickens ran a hand through his hair.

Celeste smiled. “You know, you’re proof that at least some humans are just an overly complex transport method for an asshole.”

“Thanks, love. And don’t stress too badly, you’re fine. Enjoy it while it lasts.”

Celeste rolled her eyes, and Jack could see she was amused. He changed the subject. “We’ve got something that needs your particular set of skills, Simon.”

Jack knew that if anyone could crack open the security on the USB and find what was inside, it was Hickens. Jack was certain the USB was the key to everything, and hoped that something with so much security might have some information he could use.

Hickens frowned and his features became serious. “Yeah, Peter mentioned it is encrypted to hell and back. I can do it, but it’ll take time. I’m willing to help as long as it isn’t going to be something that stokes this fucking war.”

“I don’t know about that, but it has everything to do with Ernest McDowell’s shooting.”

“Suits me. Don’t understand the line the company has been taking lately, especially since he got shot. It’s like we want half of Asia to be killing each other. If we can get to the bottom of his shooting, it might bring some fucking sanity back.”

Jack held out the USB. “Here it is.”

“Shouldn’t be too hard to figure out.” Hickens plucked the USB from Jack’s hand, then nodded at Celeste. “And hey, miss, if you change your mind, your old mate here will be more than happy to provide room and board.”

Michelle hummed as she drove along the Columbia Pike, returning to her office from a campaign event. Her latest polling numbers were excellent and her staff were convinced that she’d easily take her seat in Congress at the midterms. Though she had to keep up the effort of the campaign, the strong numbers let her focus energy on other problems.

She took a left, glanced for a moment at a pair of pedestrians on the sidewalk and almost rear-ended the car in front of her. She slammed on the brakes but never took her eyes off the men, even as she pulled the car over and drove it onto the sidewalk. A ticket was the last of her concerns.

She unbuckled her seatbelt and got out of the car as quickly as she could. The pair were seemingly oblivious to her interest and kept to their slow walk. She didn’t even take the time to lock the car as she hurried after them at a brisk but casual walk.

One of the men was a consul at the Chinese embassy—Consul Li Guo—while the other was the man she’d slept with who’d tried to crack her iPad. Their pairing could be entirely coincidental, but she doubted it. The more she thought about it, the worse the range of possibilities seemed. She needed to know who’d breached her trust and attempted to learn her secrets, and why he was talking to the Chinese.

She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed Erik Shadd. “Erik, I’m near the Pentagon. I’ve found the bastard who tricked me.”

“Need some help? I’m pretty close if you need me.”

She kept her eyes locked on to the two men. “No, I’ll sort him out myself. But he’s with a consul from the Chinese embassy. Take care of that for me?”

“Which one?”

“Consul Li. Do what you need to do. I’m going after my friend personally.”

Michelle clenched her teeth. Ever since the mystery man had ransacked her apartment and tried to discover her secrets, she’d felt less in control than she usually liked. He had found his way to Chen, and there was some chance that he had started to piece together the puzzle: Shanghai, the war, McDowell, the election. He had to go.

“You sure that’s a good idea?” There was a note of concern in Erik’s voice. “Are you armed?”

“Yeah.” Michelle felt instinctively for her concealed pistol. “I’ve got some unfinished business I want to discuss with him.”

“Okay, be careful though. We don’t know the guy’s story.”

“That’s what I want to discuss.”

***

Jack had had to catch up fast. He hadn’t seen Li Guo in a few years, but they were close from Jack’s time in Afghanistan, where Li had been a Chinese consul in Kabul—and a key source. Somehow Jack had missed that Li had been posted to the States at some point. Probably not surprising considering his recent issues.

Li had surprised him at a coffee shop, and it hadn’t taken long for them to reacquaint. As they’d walked back to the Mall, they’d shared a laugh and discussed Li’s work at the Chinese embassy. But the more they spoke, the more it became obvious that their chance meeting wasn’t so random—Li had sought Jack out.

He stopped. “Li, what can I do for you?”

Li turned and looked into Jack’s eyes for a moment. “I need your help, my friend.”

Jack laughed. “Short on resources these days, but I’ll do what I can. I owe you.”

Li looked around, as if their every move was being watched and their every word monitored. “What I’m about to tell you is highly confidential, but it needs to be heard.”

Jack frowned. “Sounds ominous.”

Li nodded. “You were tortured by my government because of editorial concessions made by Ernest McDowell to the Foundation for a New America.”

Jack stared at him, his mouth open. While he had suspected that Ernest had made a deal with the Chinese, and that Dominique and the Foundation had their claws right into him too, he had no idea that it was to such an extent that it worried the Chinese. It all made sense— and made Dominique more important than ever.

Li placed a hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay? I understand what I’m telling you is difficult to hear.”

Jack shook his head. “Just a lot to process. Let me guess, Ernest made a deal with China to free us and then got himself stuck. Why tell me?”

Li smiled sadly. “The war.”

“It’s not going that badly for China, is it?”

“Not on the face of it. But while the missiles fly, our navy and airforce battle it out and the army sits on the southern coast, China is smoldering. The US Air Force has been relentless and my people are rising. They’re frightened. They want freedom, not an island. The Party has kept it quiet, but it gets more difficult by the day.”

Jack was shocked as the penny dropped. “So you want to stay in the United States?”

Li smiled. “Who says you’re not an investigative journalist any more, my friend? The whole thing is smoke and mirrors, and the Party may well fall. I don’t want to be on the wrong side of history. I can give you information about the initial deal between McDowell and the Foundation and the subsequent deal with China.”

Jack smiled. “What’s in it for you? And me?”

“The profile it gets me will help me stay safe. As for you, another Pulitzer?”

“And getting EMCorp out of hostile hands?” Jack thought for a moment. “Let’s do it right now, then.”

Li shook his head. “I need a day to conclude a few other matters. We’ll do the interview tomorrow. I’ll call you with the location an hour before.”

Jack frowned. He never liked to delay big interviews like this, especially with a source as important as Li. If the slightest whisper of Li’s intentions made it into the wrong ears, Jack doubted he’d ever get the chance to do the interview. He considered pressing the matter, but knew better. Li wouldn’t budge.

“No problem, Li. Look forward to helping you on this.”

***

Michelle had followed them for a quarter of an hour and now watched the men talking from fifty yards away. She’d snapped some poor-quality pictures on her cell phone and sent a few to Erik. Impatient, she’d decided to go in for a closer look, but just as she started to move, the two men parted ways. She had no doubt who she should follow.

She sent a quick text to Erik, telling him that the targets had separated. She closed the distance to her target. He continued to walk with no great urgency and at one point pulled out his cell phone to make a call. She was determined to decipher his piece in the puzzle, but it was important to be patient. If she made a mistake and he got away, she might never get another chance to deal with him on her terms. Michelle edged closer, hoping to catch him unawares and subdue him with the threat of her pistol.

Michelle was about thirty feet away when he slid his phone back into his pocket. She groaned as he started to turn, knowing she’d made a mistake. She’d moved too close, sucked in by the chance to discover his secrets. There was nowhere for her to hide. She froze as his eyes locked on her, then widened in surprise before narrowing in apparent recognition. She held her breath and didn’t move, waiting for whatever he might do next. He took the predictable option, turning around and walking briskly away from her.

She ground her teeth and followed him. Now he’d seen her, it was even more important that he not be allowed to get away. This was her one chance, and she’d be damned if she was going to let it slip.

***

Jack looked straight ahead and walked as fast as he could without breaking into a slow jog. He knew that if he panicked and ran, she’d be on him like a gazelle.

He’d never expected to see Michelle Dominique again, unless it was on his terms and preferably with her in prison orange and separated by a large slab of Perspex. But she’d found him, whether by dumb luck or a cunning plan—or more likely his own stupidity in returning to Washington so casually. Now he had to get away.

He struggled to control his breathing and he could feel his palms starting to sweat. He hoped that she hadn’t spotted Li, or else the break he’d received less than an hour ago could be for nothing and he’d be back to square one.

His mind was racing, trying to think of a place close by where he might be safe. He could stay in the open, but she’d just need to keep sight of him and call in her goons. He could talk to any of the police officers nearby, but that would lead to all sorts of awkward questions about why he was so fearful of a slightly built woman.

He looked left and right, and his eyes settled on the National Museum of American History. It was as good a choice as any. At this time of day it would be teeming with tourists and school children, and if he could lose her in some of the more popular sections he could be at Dulles Airport and on a plane to anywhere by the end of the day.

***

Michelle cursed as he entered the museum. She’d hoped he might make a run for it down some back streets, giving her a chance to strike. But clearly he was smart enough to stay in plain sight until he’d lost her, to give himself the safety of the crowd and from any weapon she might have. Like her pistol.

She saw the museum’s metal detectors up ahead and, without breaking stride, dug the small weapon out of her pocket, wiped away any prints with her blouse and dropped it into a trash can. It gave a metallic clang as it hit the bottom of the empty can, but she wasn’t concerned. The safety was on and the weapon couldn’t be traced to her.

She entered the museum through the white automatic doors. There was no line, and she walked through the lobby and passed through the security scanner. She smiled at the guard as she collected her things and started her search. There was no sign of her target.

As she continued to search for him, she was rapidly downgrading her plans. While she’d wanted to find out who he was and then kill him, now she just hoped to learn who he was. She slowed only once, in the cafeteria, to pick up a steak knife that someone had left unattended on a table. With no other weapon to hand, it would have to suffice.

She moved as quickly as she could, contorting her body to squeeze past the crowds of school children marauding through the museum. She was getting frustrated, until she rounded a corner and caught a glimpse of him before he disappeared from sight again.

She moved faster, past countless treasures of the United States, and watched him duck into the 9/11 audiovisual room. He clearly thought he’d lost her and would be able to lay low in the theater for a short while before leaving. She had other ideas.

She entered and spotted him near the front, facing the screen. He was the only person in the room. If she hadn’t seen him enter she was certain she’d have missed him. She smiled at the small stroke of luck, approached him and took a seat to his right.

“You’ve a very difficult man to track down.” She kept her voice low and even. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

When he saw her he tried to get to his feet. Michelle dug the knife into his ribs just deep enough to stall his movements. She heard him take a sharp breath, and then he slowly sat back down again. She could tell he was frightened as he turned and faced her with a nervous smile.

“Look.” His voice trembled. “If this is about the other day, I’m sorry, alright? I got spooked.”

“Shut up and give me your wallet.” Michelle kept the knife against his ribs.

He complied and she opened the wallet. There was just enough light in the room for her to see the name on his license—Jack Emery.

She stared at the name. An alarm in her head was ringing, but she was struggling to figure out why. She kept the knife pressed against him as she thought. Suddenly, she recognized the name, and a lot of different pieces of a difficult mental puzzle fell into place. It was both reassuring and frightening to finally know who he was.

She gave a small laugh. “Well, looks like I can cross fucking a Pulitzer Prize winner off the bucket list, and I didn’t even know. How impolite.”

He didn’t speak until she dug the knife into his ribs a little harder. “Sorry to keep you in the dark, but so goes the lifestyle of the rich and the famous.”

“You’re becoming a pain in my ass, I’m just not quite sure why. Surely you’ve got better things to do than harass my organization?” She looked into his eyes.

He glared back with a look of hatred that surprised her. “Because you seem to have a whole lot of coincidental involvement in a whole lot of things that have gone wrong in my life lately, that’s why. I can’t prove anything, yet. But I’m certain you were involved in the shooting of Ernest McDowell, and probably the war in China.”

She laughed, but her mind was racing. She wasn’t sure how he’d caught her scent originally, but he was the sort of problem she didn’t need. A journalist of his talent wouldn’t relent until he found a chink in her armor. With McDowell still alive and Chen out of hand, this was one thing she could tidy up easily.

“I’m involved in a whole lot more than that, Mr Emery, and there’s a good reason.” With her spare hand she pointed to the screen, showing a video of the Twin Towers collapsing. “That’s the moment America got kicked in the nuts, Mr Emery, and we never really got up off the mat.”

He shrugged. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m afraid you’re a loose end I’m going to have to tie up.” She swiftly brought the knife to his throat. “I find this place fitting.”

She thought he might struggle, but he waited, clearly aware of how easy it would be to cut his throat. She pressed harder and was about to strike when she heard a giggle. Her head snapped around and she saw two schoolgirls peeking through the curtain and into the theater room.