Chapter Three
The long, flat ride through downtown Washington D.C. was made in silence. Traffic was at the usual near stall rate, held up by the ever-present red stoplights and eternal flow of jaywalkers. The annoying sounds of car horns and shrilling brakes being applied too quickly were muffled by the premium ride package of his Mercedes-Maybach S600. The smell of vehicle exhaust was minimized by the cabin fragrance system injected through the vents as other vehicles crowded around, trying to cut in front of one another, jousting for position. These city people were like well-oiled machines as they gathered at the intersections waiting for the crosswalk lights to turn, allowing them to move in a somewhat staggered line.
City life. It wasn’t for everyone.
It could raise anyone’s blood pressure.
Grady gripped the Napa leather-wrapped steering wheel harder than necessary. It was better than the alternative. He wanted nothing more than to reach over the center console and hold Brienne’s hand to let her know everything was going to be all right.
It wasn’t.
At least, her professional life wouldn’t be anything like it had been before. As for her personal life…well, she’d stated she wanted that to change as well. It wasn’t fair to bring up their relationship given the extraordinary events that had transpired since her personal revelation. His brooding platitudes regarding her current situation weren’t going to be welcome.
“What exactly do you think Starr can do to rectify my situation, Grady?” Brienne asked, her steady voice cutting through the relative silence of the car.
Grady admired Brienne’s ability to keep her composure under the mounting stress, but then again, she’d been trained by the Farm. Grady applied the brakes and came to a standstill behind the navy blue Honda Accord he’d allowed into the flow of traffic a block back. He took advantage of the stop to look Brienne’s way. She was holding herself together, considering the initial shock of her public outing as an agent was wearing off.
“It’s over,” Brienne said somewhat dejectedly. “My name is out there and now all of my cases are compromised, as well as possibly other assets who I work with. The only thing that matters at this point is finding out who leaked the information to the newspaper, how they uncovered my personal data to begin with, who else is next based on my association with them, and then try to prevent any further damage from happening. SSA Telfer has the Director’s assurance that the Technical Collections boys from the Science and Technology Division is all over this. There’s nothing Starr can do that our resources can’t accomplish on their own.”
“You would be surprised at what Starr can achieve,” Grady informed her, catching sight of a grey Ford Focus pulling alongside of them a little too close for comfort. The man driving was singing along to his radio and clueless as to what was going on around him. “She has the seemingly magical ability to get things done in a timely manner without causing even a ripple in the water. You and I both know the CIA and the FBI have a tendency to overshoot these things and make the situation worse.”
Grady admired Brienne’s sense of right and wrong. She saw things black and white in a grey world, which was how she conducted her business. She fit right into the Agency’s mold and was able to make calculated decisions based on the collection of solid, supporting facts.
It did run through Grady’s mind that Brienne was handling their relationship in the same lock-step manner, but again, this wasn’t the time or place to get into that. She was a true professional and this violation of her covert status was ultimately a tragedy for the Agency and a setback in the region her desk managed. Would he be able to convince her to make a mutually beneficial deal with Starr in an attempt to salvage her career?
“Grady, do you happen to have a backup piece on you?”
Brienne’s question was said with the calm of a seasoned field agent. No one else would have caught the concern lacing her soft-spoken words. It helped that Grady had already caught sight of the male figure beside them drawing his weapon a little higher than he’d realized, giving away the reason he’d furtively pulled so close to Grady’s vehicle. He’d essentially blocked Brienne inside the car. She wouldn’t have known that from the direction she was looking, though, meaning an additional threat was present and within her line of sight.
“Glove box. It’s condition one.”
Grady hadn’t finished saying his last word before Brienne had efficiently opened the compartment in front of her in one fluid movement. The weapon was smaller than his preferred Kimber 1911 TLE, as was par for the course when it came to a spare weapon. She would have known he’d kept a round in the chamber without his statement to that effect, which was why she didn’t hesitate to bring the Berretta PX4 Storm in .40 S&W up with a purpose. He’d already done the same and the discharge of both firearms inside such an insulated luxury sedan instantly compromised their hearing. Only time would tell just how much damage had been done on a permanent basis.
That didn’t stop Grady from reaching for his door handle, ignoring the shards of glass that had shattered everywhere upon the bullet’s impact with the vehicle’s safety glass. He rammed his shoulder into the door, confident Brienne had neutralized her target or she would have followed up with continued fire. She was an accurate shot, on and off the range.
The ringing in his ears overtook the city noise, as well as the construction zone up ahead. It was apparent from the way people were ducking down in their cars and running in a staggered fashion away from the scene that they were terrified about what had unfolded, especially with two men dead. He took hold of Brienne’s hand as she maneuvered herself across the driver’s seat over fragmented glass. He didn’t let go until they started to jog down the street against traffic.
There wasn’t a chance in hell they were going to wait around to see if more men showed up to try and finish the job. Brienne wouldn’t be able to hear what Grady said, so he motioned for them to head for Union Station. It would provide an opportunity to get lost in the general public, as well as give them the time needed to analyze the situation.
Grady could see from people’s expressions and the way they were craning their necks that the police were arriving on the scene. It wouldn’t be long before someone pointed in the direction they had taken, but they’d already made a right at the next block and were putting lateral distance between them and the carnage left behind. He needed to speak with either SSA Telfer or someone higher up the chain immediately. Brienne was being targeted, which meant that article in a Pakistani newspaper had a far wider reach than any of them had initially anticipated.
Brienne slowed down and took the time to hide the weapon she’d taken from his glove compartment underneath her jacket. She placed her fingertips against her ears with a wince and rubbed the areas as she examined their surroundings. He moved his jaw from side to side as well, trying to subdue the ringing. He took her cue to holster his weapon, albeit reluctantly. The less attention they brought to themselves, the better at this point. They were about a block away from Union Station, but it was enough of a distance to allow them to reevaluate.
“I think we need to catch a cab,” Brienne shouted, her words getting caught up in the incessant buzzing. It was apparent she was talking too loud and he signaled she needed to lower her voice. A few curious stares were shot their way. “Staying visible out on the streets will only put us and other innocent pedestrians in the line of fire.”
“We need to get you underground.” Grady noticed that Brienne’s attention was on his lips since her hearing had yet to fully return. He repeated his statement and waited for her to nod her understanding. “Stay close.”
Brienne’s quick nod of acquiesce had Grady changing direction. The adrenaline produced by what had just happened was starting to wear off. Damn, that was a close call. Had Brienne been by herself during that ambush, she never would have had time to stop both converging tangos coming at her from opposite directions. He couldn’t even fathom that scenario. Why was she being specifically targeted and not any other agents within the section?
The temperature was above normal for this time of year and the sun was beating down on the asphalt, producing an uncomfortable heat. The normally delicious aroma drifting from the hot dog stand did nothing but generate nausea. Once they were able to blend in with the crowd, people weren’t watching where they were headed and Grady didn’t have a spare minute for pleasantries. He was determined to get Brienne to safety and he didn’t stop until they were at the Georgetown Law School off of New Jersey Avenue.
Grady didn’t waste time heading directly for McDonough Hall, where the office of the Dean of Students was located. There were advantages to still being in the field, one of them being established contacts who were dependable.
David Pierce was the current Dean of Students, as well as a source for the FBI and CIA to tap into regarding foreign students coming into the university with less than stellar goals of education. The student visa ruse was usually quickly spotted and many a terrorist plot had been diverted using this method of detection. Dave was currently with another staff member, but quickly dismissed the younger man once Grady and Brienne appeared outside his door.
Dave’s office was small, but the furniture was an immaculate red oak with ornate handles and matching bookcases off to the side. Literature and history books adorned the shelves, but it was the miniature metal models of World War II planes and tanks that gave the room a unique look. His office furnished the impression that the professor was a historian managing his own tiny museum.
“You’re bleeding.” Dave was already standing when he took some tissues from a box he kept on his desk, handing them over with a look of concern. Grady had dismissed the small cuts as insignificant seeing as it wasn’t Brienne who’d been hurt. He could take care of himself at a later time, but he would clean up the best he could seeing as it was distracting Dave. “Grady, what happened? Do I need to alert security?”
“No,” Grady replied, pressing the thin white material against the small cuts on his hand. The blood quickly soaked in, but the majority of the wounds were superficial. Only one was still bleeding. “I need your vehicle. I can’t explain right now, but we’re in a bit of a bind.”
“Of course,” Dave replied, his gaze drifting to where Brienne was looking at her cell phone. Grady had thought she’d left it in her purse back in the car, but she’d apparently had it on her person. She was holding it up before he could give her a dressing-down on security protocol. She’d already turned the device off, as he had done with his own back when they’d stopped running. “I’m parked…”
Dave continued to give instructions on how to reach his vehicle, leaving Grady to scrutinize Brienne. She was standing to the left of the door with her right arm straight at her side, giving her the opportunity to draw the weapon from underneath her white jacket with little effort should the need arise.
Brienne appeared calm and collected, her breathing even. There wasn’t even a tremor in her hands, though there were a few smears of blood on her sleeve from when Grady had pulled her from the car. The pallor of her face had whitened and caused the red lipstick on her lips to become even brighter. He would have given anything to be able to pull her into his arms and tell her everything would be okay, but he made an effort to never lie unless it was a life and death situation.
“I appreciate this, Dave.” Grady tossed the used tissues into the trashcan, taking time to pull the desk phone toward him. It was the standard black and silver model installed in most offices. He’d be able to place a call without turning on his own cellular device. “Would you give us a moment alone? We won’t be long.”
One of Dave’s best qualities was that he never asked questions, though he was always willing to provide answers and toe the line. He vacated the office without a second glance. Grady had already dialed the number of SSA Telfer and pressed the speaker button before the door had completely shut.
Brienne hesitated and shot a sideways look at the doorknob. She most likely wanted to lock it, but Grady wasn’t concerned with anyone walking in unannounced. Dave wouldn’t have gone far and would be monitoring the traffic in and out of the department.
“Telfer.”
“We ran into a problem en route to our meeting,” Grady informed Brienne’s SSA, keeping an eye on Brienne to see if she wanted to add anything to the conversation. She stepped forward, about to speak when Telfer cut in with a directive no agent wanted to hear.
“Agent Chaylse is in the crosshairs of ISI. Bring her in now.”
The line disconnected, leaving Grady and Brienne to deal with the aftermath of such a decree. He didn’t hesitate to reach for her, bringing her into his embrace and wishing it were that easy to shield her from what was to come. The ISI was Pakistan’s premier military-operated intelligence service. These weren’t amateurs who were after Brienne and they had to have had help from inside the Agency to pull off what had almost transpired today.
“We’re going out on our own,” Grady murmured, pressing his lips softly against her temple. Brienne nodded slightly in agreement, because even she knew there was only one logical choice to make given their circumstances. “There isn’t a chance in hell you’re going back to Langley to ride this out.”