One thing was certain: whoever was running this operation knew exactly what they were doing.
After saying their goodbyes, Sean and Tommy returned to the frigid outside. The sun was climbing into the clear blue sky, but it did little to warm the cold town.
"Good one," Tommy said as they marched back to their car.
"Yeah, I know. Happens to the best of us."
"True, except your timing couldn't be worse."
"It won't happen again," Sean reassured him.
Tommy let the incident go. "So, the real question now is, what are we going to do? I don't exactly like the idea of going to Washington."
"Into the lion's den."
"That's what I was thinking. Seems like whoever erased all our money, our identities, whatever, is probably operating out of Washington.
"And they're on the inside, which will make things even more difficult," Sean said.
Back inside the car, the seats and steering wheel were freezing to the touch. Tommy couldn't turn on the engine fast enough.
"It's our only lead," Sean said as he rubbed his hands together to fight off the cold in his fingers. "I really don't see what other choice we have."
He took his phone out and pulled up Adriana's number. He tapped the call button and listened to the phone ringing.
"Calling Adriana?" Tommy asked.
Sean nodded. After twenty seconds, he got an automated message telling him the phone's user hadn't set up voice mail yet.
"No answer," Sean said, his voice smothered in disappointment.
"I'm sure she's fine," Tommy offered. "Sounds to me like she saved the president's life. Congratulations, buddy. Your girlfriend is a hero."
The comment did little to cheer up Sean. "I hope she's all right."
"Gary didn't say anything about her being hurt. I'm sure that would have been included in the news reports if the person who saved the president was injured."
Sean relented and gave a subtle nod. "I guess you're right."
"Of course I am." Tommy rubbed his hands together. "So, what are your thoughts on Washington?"
"The Surratt House?"
"Yep."
"I don't see any other option. I guess we have to go down there and check it out. It's not exactly my first choice. But what else can we do?"
Sean shifted the car into gear and looked back in the mirror to make sure no one was behind him. They hadn't seen many other cars since leaving the diner. Most of the town was busy at work so the streets were largely vacant. Sean started to ease the vehicle out of the parking spot and then stopped suddenly.
Tommy's head bounced on the headrest. "What?" he asked, looking over at Sean with wide eyes. "Why'd you stop?"
Sean narrowed his eyes as he stared into the mirror. His jaw clenched. "That car back there," he said. "It was there when we went in."
Tommy leaned toward his friend and peeked into the mirror. He noticed the black sedan with a figure of a man inside. "So? There are lots of cars that were probably there when we went in. People are at work or eating a late breakfast."
"No," Sean said with a shake of the head. "That guy has been sitting there longer than that. He was there when we were walking around. I noticed him in that same spot when we went to eat. He's been there all morning."
Tommy bent toward the middle of the car and looked back again. "Maybe he's reading a really good book."
Sean twisted his head, wearing the most derisive expression he could muster.
Tommy did his best to look innocent. "What? Sometimes people get lost in books. I know I do."
"For four hours in a car, in the freezing cold?"
"Okay, you may have a point. But who is he?"
Sean frowned. "That, I don't know. And I don't know why he's following us."
"Strange he hasn't tried to engage."
Sean turned his head slowly toward his friend again. "Engage?"
"Yeah, you know. He hasn't tried to get in the way of what we're doing."
"Since when did you start using words like that?"
Tommy blushed. "I don't know. About ten seconds ago, I guess."
Sean returned his gaze to the sedan. It was parked on one of the main streets. From their current vantage point, the vehicle was barely visible through the trees, bushes, and a wrought-iron fence along the property.
"Keep your eyes behind us," Sean said as he backed up and then shifted the car into drive. "Let's see if he follows us."
Chapter 20
Adriana sat across the boardroom-style table, probing Emily and President Dawkins with a questioning gaze.
"I'm sure you have thought of this, sir, but how in the world did that guy get that weapon into the ballroom?" Her query was one the president had, indeed, thought about. "I figured your security teams would have gone through everywhere, checking everything multiple times."
They'd moved from the room with a cot to a makeshift boardroom. It looked much like the other, the major difference being there was a television hanging from the wall and a table in the center. Other than that, the same sterile lighting and cinder block walls were standard decor.
"They do that everywhere I go," Dawkins said. "No way they wouldn't have done it this time as well."
"That means someone on the security team either screwed up or was in on it," Emily said.
"None of my Secret Service men would have been involved. I trust every single one of them like they were my own children."
"Sometimes children disobey their parents."
The president sighed. "I see what you're saying. Believe me, I do. But these men wouldn't have had anything to do with it."
"Okay," Adriana said, "then who else was involved with making sure the ballroom and hotel were secure?"
Dawkins shook his head, bewildered. "I don't know. Maybe they had some people from the CIA and FBI go through and check it out. That would have been out of the ordinary, but not impossible."
"We need to know the names of everyone who went through that building," Emily said. "And I want to see the surveillance tapes from the previous two days before your speech."
"They're already looking at the footage," Dawkins said. He put his hand on Emily's shoulder in an attempt to ease her temper.
A knock came at the door.
"Yes?" Dawkins said.
"It's Agent Caldwell, sir."
"Come on in."
The door opened, and a tall man with mocha skin wearing a black suit and tie stepped in. He set a file down in front of the president.
"The man the police shot in the alley. He's the one behind the shooting, sir."
Dawkins opened the folder and flipped through a series of black-and-white photos.
"These from the security cameras?"
"Yes, sir," Caldwell said with a nod. "You can see he snuck into the sound booth carrying this case." He tapped on the image of the suspect carrying what looked almost like a musical instrument case. "This was taken the morning of the shooting."
"Who is he?"
Adriana and Emily leaned closer to get a look at the images.
Caldwell hesitated.
Sensing his bodyguard's reluctance, Dawkins reassured him it would be okay. "Speak freely, Son. I trust these two every bit as much as I trust you. They'll be fine."
Caldwell nodded. "Yes, sir. His name was Special Agent Terry Kendricks."
The three at the table raised their collective eyebrows. Dawkins turned his head to look up at Caldwell.
"Which agency?"
"CIA, sir. Our team is on the phone with Langley as we speak. We'll know more in the coming hours."
Dawkins flipped the images back onto the table and leaned back in his chair. He put his hands behind his head and looked into the ceiling. "So, now we have CIA agents working against us."
"He had clearance, sir. That's how he was able to walk right into the ballroom. We still don't have a motive."