The Jefferson Allegiance (39 page)

A sign indicated it was the exit for the Theodore Roosevelt Memorial.

Brake lights flashed in the night. Right next to the footbridge that led to Theodore Roosevelt Island in the middle of the Potomac. Burns sped up as men in black piled out of the Suburbans. The island was uninhabited, lots of trees and walking trails, and a plaza with a Memorial to the former President. An easy place to keep secure.

Burns continued on the GW Parkway and took a left exit, and then another left, driving until he was opposite the stopped vehicles, with the GW and Jeff Davis Parkways separating them. He parked illegally, went to the trunk and pulled out a set of night vision goggles. He walked into the trees until he could see a vantage point. He took off his fedora and pulled on the night vision goggles. He could see the Suburbans, Town Car and armed guards at the footbridge. A line of dark figures was crossing the bridge onto the island.

Burns settled in to wait.

***********

Evie opened and closed her fingers repeatedly, trying to keep the blood circulating. She knew asking to have the pressure of the cuffs reduced would be a fruitless exercise. The Blackhawk was somewhere over Maryland. The Surgeon was seated facing her. Her short sword was across her knees. The air of confidence she projected pissed Evie off.

“He’ll never give up the disks,” Evie yelled over the sound of turbine engines and blades cutting through the air overhead.

The Surgeon looked at her. “You underestimate yourself.”

“I do?”

“Men are foolish creatures,” the Surgeon said. “Your Colonel is not thinking straight.”

“You’re wrong,” Evie insisted, but she had a moment of doubt, remembering how Ducharme had acted at times. It wasn’t about hormones like the Surgeon thought, but because of his brain injury. Then again, she thought . . .

“You people keep telling me I’m wrong,” the Surgeon said, “but I have fourteen of the disks.”

“You could have all the disks,” Evie said, “and it still won’t be enough to find the Allegiance.”

The Surgeon shrugged. “But having them will stop you from finding it. Just as killing you and Ducharme would achieve the same thing. I already took care of the other two.”

“You’d have destroyed the disks and killed me if you believed that. Whoever’s controlling you wants the Allegiance. You’re just a puppet being used by the Cincinnatians.”

The Surgeon gave a cold smile. “No. I’m using them for my own purpose.”

“Right.” A vision of Ducharme drawling the same word in his unique accent flashed through her mind. “You have no idea what you’re messing with. It’s--“ Evie stopped speaking as the Surgeon lifted her sword.

The steel flashed toward Evie’s face and she flinched, expecting to feel the sharp pain of sliced flesh. Instead, the flat side of the sword slapped against the side of her face once more.

Evie glared at the other woman. “Easy to hit someone who is chained up.”

The Surgeon nodded. “You’re quite correct. And I couldn’t care less about the Cincinnatians.”

“What?” Evie was confused. Then she saw the look the Surgeon’s eyes, and realized that all of this was just part of some twisted sickness in the woman’s head. She’d seen the same in some of the CIA field agents—the ones who reveled in places like Abu Ghraib rather than be repelled by them.

The Surgeon hefted McBride’s briefcase. “Should I read what your Chair wrote on his computer?”

“It doesn’t say what the Allegiance is.”

The Surgeon shrugged. “I couldn’t care less.” She tossed the briefcase to the floor with a thud, and Evie flinched as much as she had when the sword had been coming for her. Looking past the Surgeon, Evie could see a bright glow on the horizon. The Washington Monument, well lit by ground lights, appeared out to the front left. The helicopter arced around the restricted flight zone of Washington until it was over the Potomac near Georgetown.

The pilots dropped altitude to just above the water. Evie could see the lights of downtown Washington to the left and the headlights of cars on the GW Parkway to the right. A line of trees suddenly appeared in front, and the aircraft lifted slightly, clearing them. And just as quickly, descended to a paved plaza in the midst of the trees and landed.

A ring of armed men dressed in black surrounded the helicopter and beyond them, a statue, one hand raised.

“Teddy Roosevelt,” Evie said, as the whine from the turbine engines wound down and the blades slowed overhead.

The Surgeon slid open one of the side doors. Then she un-cuffed Evie. “Let’s go,” the Surgeon said, pointing with her sword toward the men gathered in front of the 17-foot high statue of the former president. There were four stone monoliths surrounding the plaza.

“Do you know,” Evie said, “what it says on one of those stones?”

“I don’t care,” the Surgeon said, gesturing once more with the sword for her to get off.

“You should care,” Evie said. “Roosevelt said:
’If I must choose between righteousness and peace, I choose righteousness.’
I think Colonel Ducharme is going to bring some righteousness down on you shortly.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Pollack was flying low and fast, staying off radar and making up the time they’d lost refueling at Fort Dix. Ducharme checked the GPS. They were fifteen minutes from Washington. His satphone buzzed and he pulled it out, pressing it tight against his ear in order to hear over the sound of the helicopter.

“Yeah?”

“It’s Burns. Are you chasing a Blackhawk to DC?”

“How’d you know?”

“I saw it land on Roosevelt Island. There’s a shitload of contractors there, too. Along with Turnbull. I wouldn’t advise going there.”

“I don’t plan on it. Did you see who was on the chopper?”

“Negative. They landed at the Memorial, and trees block the view. The only way onto the island is via a footbridge and it’s well guarded.”

“I’m going to force them to move to Fort Myer. Make a trade.”

There was silence for a little while. “A trade?”

Ducharme glanced over at Sergeant Major Kincannon, who was leaning back against the back wall of the cargo bay, weapon on his lap. “Yeah. Listen, we might need some back-up.”

“I’m your man.”

“Let me know when and how they move.”

“All right.”

Ducharme turned off the phone. He moved closer to Kincannon. “Sergeant Major?”

“Yes, sir?”

“We’re going to meet this Surgeon at Fort Myer to set up an exchange of our disks for Evie.”

“’Evie’?” Kincannon smiled, and then shook his head. “You thinking straight? There’s gonna be no exchange. They’re going to come in guns blazing.”

Ducharme nodded. “That’s where we need some help if you don’t mind making a call or two.”

After telling Kincannon his plan, Ducharme opened one of the plastic cases and pulled out a military issue computer. He accessed the Defense Department’s Interlink. He needed intelligence on the target and the layout of a building.

*************

The presence of the contractors made Lily uncomfortable—she preferred working alone. And Turnbull had taken charge of the prisoner as soon as she got Tolliver off the chopper. He had her near the central fountain in the plaza under heavy guard. She had left the briefcase in the chopper, a possible bargaining tool if Turnbull turned on her like he had the contractors.

“Sir.” Lily tried not to stand at attention, but she knew no other way to approach someone of higher rank.

Turnbull turned his ice blue eyes on her. “Yes?”

“Are you really going to give Tolliver to Ducharme for the disks? We can destroy the Philosophical Society once and for all tonight.”

“And what purpose would that serve?” Turnbull asked.

Lily was surprised. “We would finish off our enemies. It’s a maxim of military strategy to—“

“This is not a military problem,” Turnbull interrupted. “This is a political issue. The disks are more important than the people.”

“Yes, sir, but—“ she stopped as her satphone buzzed. She turned it on. “Yes?”

“Hey, missy.”

She squeezed the phone the way she’d like to squeeze Ducharme’s neck, but she kept her voice level. “I’m waiting for you.”

“Don’t want to keep a lady waiting,” Ducharme said.

“Bring the disks to—“

“You don’t listen very well.”

She stifled a sharp retort, feeling Turnbull’s eyes on her. “What do you want?”

“My friend.”

“Give me the disks.”

“I will.”

“Come to Roosevelt Island and—“

“You really don’t listen,” Ducharme cut her off. “You’re sitting there with a bunch of gunmen, waiting for me to stick my head in the trap.”

She looked about. They had a traitor in their midst. Or Ducharme had just made the logical deduction. She rubbed the side of her head. “Where, then?”

“Get in your helicopter with Tolliver. Everyone else stays there. Once you’re airborne, I’ll give you the grid coordinates where we’ll meet.”

“You need Tolliver back,” Lily said.

“I
want
Tolliver back,” Ducharme said. “You
need
to do what I say.” The phone went dead.

“Yes?” Turnbull asked.

“Ducharme wants me airborne with the prisoner,” Lily said. “He’ll give me the coordinates of the meet once I’m airborne. He knows your men are here. He wants none to leave. He might have someone watching us.”

Turnbull inclined his battered head ever so slightly. “Ah. Officer Burns. Very enterprising. Go. Do the meet. Negotiate. Don’t worry about what he wants. Take six men. Haggle over Tolliver. Can you do that?”

She stiffened at being talked to in such a manner. “Yes, sir.”

“Go.”

*************

The Blackhawk lifted just as the satphone buzzed. “Burns.”

“Chopper in the air?”

He recognized Ducharme’s voice. “Yeah.”

“The merks moving?”

Burns looked at the bridge and the vehicles. “Negative. Not yet at least, but I couldn’t see who got on the chopper.”

“Turnbull will be sending muscle on it. Keep an eye on him. Can you?”

“He’s got a lot of firepower, but I’ll do what I can.”

“Thanks.”

Burns watched the footbridge through the night vision goggles. “Where is the meet?”

“Fort Myer. Ord and Wietzel Drive. There are some old warehouses off to the right. Go past them and there’s a field adjacent to Arlington. That’s where the party will be.”

“You sure it’s going to be a party?” Burns asked.

“It’s time to fix bayonets.”

Burns saw people crossing the footbridge toward him. “Yeah, it is.” He drew his pistol and headed toward the highways separating him from his ‘supervisor.’

************

The Huey touched down in a snow-covered field, leafless trees surrounding it. The blades created their own minor snowstorm, which subsided as the chopper powered down.

Ducharme leaned between the seats and tapped Pollack on the shoulder. “Get ready to start up quick. Also, can you get clearance from military air traffic control to go up to twelve thousand feet? Offset from DC’s restricted airspace, right on the northwest edge.”

She nodded, casting an anxious glance toward Kincannon who was stepping off, sub-machinegun in hand.

“I’ll watch out for him,” Ducharme promised.

“And who’s going to watch out for you?” Pollack asked.

“He will,” Ducharme said. “We’re a good team.”

She lifted her hand off the cyclic and extended it. “
We’re
a good team.”

He grasped her hand in his. “We are.”

*************

“Officer Burns.” Turnbull put away his satphone.

A half-dozen heavily armed men in black surrounded Burns, but he focused on his nominal superior, who acknowledged the pistol in Burns’s hand with a single arched eyebrow. “Going to take us all on?”

“If need be,” Burns said. “I am the law. I have no idea what you are, and I know they—“ he indicated the mercenaries—“aren’t the law.”

“The gun won’t be necessary,” Turnbull said. “Things will be solved peacefully.”

“They haven’t been so far,” Burns said. “Body count keeps rising.”

“Not my fault,” Turnbull said. “One can only control a free agent so far.”

“You’re saying the Surgeon doesn’t work for you?”

“You know her code name.” Turnbull didn’t seem impressed. “We’ve tried to keep her under control, but I’m afraid she’s gone off the grid.”