Chapter One
Alex Reis sat in the hallway near the emergency room, with her elbows on her knees. She brushed at the blood stains on her black pants, and frowned at the dried redness on her hands. She knew she should go wash, but found she just didn’t have the energy. The alarm had awakened her a little before five, and it was now just a few minutes till midnight. Alex was tired, her head ached, and she needed caffeine. But it was just too exhausting to stand up.
She couldn’t figure out just what had gone wrong. David had told her earlier in the evening that everything was running smoothly, and she shouldn’t worry. They had every door into and out of the Sheraton covered. The two halls leading to the banquet room each held a security checkpoint with a metal detector. Anyone attempting to enter the area had to present an invitation, or a specific press pass. Hotel personnel had to have special clearance, and had to be wanded with a hand held metal detector before entering the attached kitchen. Even the police and FBI agents were checked for proper identification.
But, despite everything, the assassin had gained access to the ballroom. Reginald Dabir, former head of the NAACP, ex-mayor of Philadelphia, and newly announced candidate for the U.S. Senate, had been gunned down at his first big fundraiser. The killer had quietly walked up behind the candidate, pumped two bullets into the back of his head, and quickly but calmly headed for an out of the way exit. The suppresser he had used guaranteed him enough time to get into a utility corridor before anyone tried to stop him. All the police and FBI could do was race after the suspect as he fled. David Wu, Alex’s partner, had been leading the chase, with twenty other officers at his heels.
Alex had stayed behind, trying to stem the tide of liquid life as it drained out of Reginald. She’d ridden beside him, listening to the chatter of the paramedic who was vainly trying to revive the dead man, as the ambulance sped toward Thomas Jefferson University Hospital.
Now she sat in the depressing white and green corridor, bent forward, elbows on her knees. As her short blond hair hung over her eyes, she could see that there was a smear of red mixed with the pale yellow. Alex had held Dabir’s head in her hands, pressing her jacket against the bullet holes in his head. As a result she was covered in Dabir’s blood. It stood out against her blue shirt, turning it to the color of the night. The thick fluid had mostly dried, changing the fabric from soft silk to the consistency of cardboard. She’d already tossed her bloody jacket in the garbage; there was no way it could be cleaned.
Whatever had gone wrong, Alex felt responsible, and she knew that her boss was probably going to place the blame on her shoulders. For Alex and her partner, sleep would not be an option tonight — despite being bone tired.
Speaking of partners, Alex wondered where David was.
As if in answer to her thoughts, she heard her name being called. She raised her head as her partner, and fellow FBI agent, approached.
He looked as ragged as she did, though he wasn’t coated in red. He had also lost his suit jacket somewhere, and stains had appeared on his white starched shirt. His face, normally smooth, was deeply lined with the frown he was wearing. Though he was taller than his partner by four inches, the weight of his shoulders seemed to pull him towards the floor, making him look shorter than his five-ten stature.
David took one look at Alex’s face, and shifted direction to the soda machine just beyond Alex. He fished for quarters in his pocket, then pulled out a bottle of Advil while the Coke clattered down the machine’s insides.
“Any word?”
Alex gave a deep sigh. “Yeah. DOA.”
David winced and handed her the soda and two tablets. With a short nod of thanks, Alex downed the Advil, and followed them with a few swallows of soda. Its icy coldness tingled in her throat, and she could feel the headache recede just a touch.
Seating himself beside Alex, David leaned back against the wall. He ran his fingers through his short black hair, then rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Well, it looks like we’re batting double zero tonight.”
“What d’you mean?”
“The assassin’s dead, too.”
Alex’s shoulders dropped another inch. “Damn.”
“I know, partner.” David reached over and patted Alex’s knee. “He had a car, waiting in an alley, and a big enough lead on me that I knew we wouldn’t catch him before he could jump in the car. So I slowed, and took a shot at him while I called for backup, and for cars to try and block any escape routes. He got to the car, the driver hit the gas. The shooter returned fire, almost taking out two of the officers who had raced past me.”
“So, how’d he get killed?”
“He got as far as the corner, then —” David raised his hands, trying to illustrate, “boom. The car blew up.”
Alex groaned. “So that’s what that noise was.”
David wiped absently at a black mark near his temple. “Yeah. I tried to get the guy out, but the flames were hot enough to melt the tar under the car.”
“Is that how you got soot all over you?”
“Yep.”
Alex frowned at her partner. “Do we know why the car blew up?”
“Yep. An incendiary device attached to the underside of the vehicle.”
“In other words, a bomb.”
“Yep.”
“Somebody offed the hitman?”
“Uh-huh.”
Alex ‘s frown turned into a grimace. “I knew I should have stayed in the research department.”
They were both quiet for a moment, then Alex looked at David. “Is it too late for me to be an accountant, instead of working for the FBI?”
He gave a short laugh. “No. But you’d be bored silly inside of two days. By the end of the week they’d have to bring the guys with the white jackets to take you away.”
“Are you saying I’m an adrenaline junkie?”
“No. You just love excitement.” They gave each other a halfhearted grin.
Alex took a deep breath, picked up her soda and got up from her seat. “Okay, David, let’s go.”
David stood beside her. “Where to?”
“The hotel.” Alex began ticking items off on her fingers. “I know the local guys won’t be very happy to see us, but this is our case. I want you to gather the video tapes - if they’ve been thinking, Keller and Price have already pulled the tapes and sent them to Washington. I want to know where this guy came from, how he got into a secured area, and who the hell he was. I want to talk to the officers who were at the security checkpoints, and those that were in the parking lot. Lieutenant Wister already promised me a list of all officers, and where they were stationed.” She stopped and looked at her partner. “That door the guy went through. You and I checked on that, remember? We made sure Wister had somebody there, but the officer didn’t exactly slow up the shooter. I want to know why.”
“He could be dead.”
“Maybe. If he’s not and he left his post, then he just might wish he was dead.”
Agent Wu nodded solemnly.
“You think the killer came in that door?”
David rubbed his jaw. “I don’t know, Alex. If I remember right, it was a fire door; you couldn’t open it from outside.”
“Right, but the alarm didn’t go off, did you notice that? What if he cut the system, then somehow got the door open?”
“It would show in the surveillance tapes. The door was in camera range. But the guys in the camera room never gave an alert.”
“Which means they didn’t see anything suspicious until the same time as everyone else. Damn.” Alex took a final drink from her soda, then tossed it in a recycle bin. “If the killer, or someone else tampered with the door, I wanna know. I want to check out the scene again, and look at those tapes.” She stopped and looked at David.“We also need to check with the M.E. and find out when the autopsy — sorry, autopsies — will be held. One, or both of us, need to be there. Maybe they’ll find something on the killer’s body that will help us out.”
“Right.” David nodded. “Uh, Alex, don’t you think we need some sleep?”
“Sleep? David, have you forgotten that we have a phone conference scheduled with our boss for 8:30 this morning? Cliff probably already knows that Dabir is dead, and he’s gonna want answers. So far, we don’t have any. It’s now,” Alex looked at her watch, then scratched off the dried blood so she could see the numbers, “ten minutes after midnight. That gives us eight hours and twenty minutes to come up with something. I personally don’t want to sit there and tell Cliff that we don’t know how the assassin got in, we don’t know who the assassin was, and we don’t know why, despite everything we did, Reginald Dabir is dead.” Alex turned and started walking down the corridor, David trailing after her. “I have a feeling we’re going to get our butts chewed no matter what information we have, but I’d kind of like to leave that conference with at least a little bit of flesh on my sorry carcass. If that means a night without sleep, so be it.” She stopped and took David’s arm so he would look at her. “I was the lead agent, David. I have to tell him something.”