The Chimera Sequence (43 page)

Apart from Bonny and the rest of the Virunga bloodhounds, Cole hadn’t seen a real working dog team in over two years. It was a refreshing reminder of his last assignment with 10th Group, and this was a good-looking dog.

“But wait, how’d you know I was up here?” he said, putting an arm around Anna’s shoulder. “And why are you even here? I thought I made it pretty clear that you and Chase needed to steer clear of D.C. tonight.”

“You did. But we’re not your kid siblings anymore, so we made up our own minds. Chase is up on the next level with the rest of his congressman’s staff.”

“And now with the president’s team gone, I’m allowed to let her tag along with me,” Agent Walker said.

The president was gone? Cole had assumed he’d stick around to see the show after those rousing introductory remarks.

Anna shrugged out from under his arm and stepped toward Leila. “I’m Anna, Cole’s sister.”

Leila looked a little nervous with the dog sitting right there, and Cole remembered her initial fear of the gorillas back in Rwanda.

“And I’m Leila. Leila Torabi, with the CDC.”

Cole thought he saw Anna’s eyebrows go up just slightly. They’d barely covered the basics during their early morning catch-up at the apartment, and he couldn’t remember if Leila’s complicated role in the week’s events was completely worked out. Who knew what Anna had heard, working there in the White House. But ever the family politician, she broke into a wide smile.

“So nice to meet you!”

The low sound of a rolling tympani started up from the stage. It quickly grew in speed and volume, ending in a bursting climax of sound as the entire orchestra broke into a patriotic medley.

“So how do you two, or three, know each other anyway?” Cole asked, nodding at Tyson, who seemed to have forgiven him for the unexpected kick.

“It’s all his fault,” the special agent said, tugging playfully at his dog’s ear. “Guess your sister here can’t resist a handsome canine, especially after getting to know a certain three-legged hero she told me all about.” He gave Cole a perceptive look. “Thanks for that.”

“I just wish you could see his mad skills with the Frisbee,” Anna said.

“Whose? Agent Walker here or the dog’s?”

She punched him in the arm.

“Both, actually. They were showing off for me right out on that lawn earlier this week. You should have seen Tyson’s hilarious reaction when the sprinklers came on!”

“Sprinklers?” It hit Cole before he even finished saying the word.

“Well, more like misters, in this case,” Anna said, turning to Walker with a smile. “We were going to tell someone about that, right?”

Cole saw that Leila was on to it as well. She stepped closer, concern written all over her face.

“Hang on, Anna. Slow down and tell me exactly what you mean by these misting sprinklers.”

An operatic rendition of God Bless America was at its peak volume on the final chorus, forcing them to shout. Cole didn’t hear the cell phone ringing in his pocket, but he did feel it start to buzz. He pulled it out and saw the familiar Maryland number.

“Sorry, I’ve got to get this.” He stepped away from the group. “That you, Morgan?”

“Yep, just got something, but you’re going to have to move fast. You know they’re interrogating the wife, Nour Haddad, right now?”

“Guess so, yeah.”

“She just told them about a cousin of her husband, frequent visitor and close friend of the family.”

“And?”

“He’s been employed there at the Capitol for over twenty years. Currently works as some kind of supervisor in the grounds maintenance department.”

“Shit.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

Cole grabbed the Capitol Police sniper’s shoulder. “Hey man, you know anything about the sprinkler system out there?”

“What the hell?”

“We just got a lead on this terrorist threat. Do you?”

“Only that it stopped working right a few days ago. Maintenance guys were out to check it but water’s still spraying out too fine. If it weren’t for last week’s storms that grass would be yellow already.”

“Do you know where the system is controlled from?”

The policeman shook his head. “I’m guessing somewhere down off one of the basement levels, but no clue.”

Cole looked over his shoulder. “Agent Walker, is there an alternate secure channel for radio transmissions tonight? Something an employee at the Capitol wouldn’t have access to?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Try eighteen.”

Cole spun the dial until the number appeared on the small LCD screen.

“This is Captain Cole McBride at the northwest terrace. Anyone on this channel right now?”

A woman’s voice answered. “Go ahead Captain McBride. This is the operations center.”

“We have a new lead that needs rapid action. One of the terrorists has a cousin, an Adel Massoud, who is employed in some type of grounds keeper position here at the Capitol.”

“Go on.”

“I just confirmed that the sprinkler system has been spraying a fine mist this week rather than the normal droplet shower. This is a viable route for aerosol dispersion of the viral agent that needs to be neutralized immediately.”

“We have someone from that office here now. Please hold for a response.”

A recent American Idol winner was starting the second verse of her overly dramatized version of the Star Spangled Banner.

Cole pointed to Leila and Anna. “You two get to the other side to let Colonel Simmons and Shackleton know what’s going on. We need to keep this off the main radio channel for now.”

Leila shook her head. “I’m going with you.”

“No way.” Cole appreciated the courage behind her offer, but without any tactical training she would only be in the way. “Those guys need this update, and I’m not going to leave Anna alone. Agent Walker, you and Tyson are coming with me. And Anna, if she tells you to put a mask on, you put the mask on.”

Cole took a few steps, then shouted over his shoulder. “We’ll meet you right back here if we can.”

He started to weave his way through the oblivious crowd behind them. What was taking the operations center so long with an answer? As the crowd thinned, he took off at a jog, continuing around the north side of the terrace with Walker and Tyson right beside him.

They were halfway down the east stairs when the radio started talking.

“Two of our officers just tried to enter the grounds maintenance department but found the locking mechanism jammed and the door possibly barricaded. A more fully equipped team will be on their way back down there very shortly.”

The pop diva’s soaring melody carried clearly through the night air. She was starting the final verse.

“Very shortly might not cut it,” Cole said. “Who’s there from the grounds office?”

There was a pause, then a gravelly old man’s voice came through. “That would be me, Architect of the Capitol. Adel Massoud is one of my employees.”

“Sir, is there another access point into the sprinkler control area? We’re at the east stairs right now.”

The man coughed. “There is another way, through the Summerhouse Grotto. But it’s been locked up for years.”

“Summerhouse?”

Walker was already running. “This way!”

He was fast, and the dog had no trouble keeping up. Cole had to sprint to catch them. They turned left down a dirt path that curved back around the north side of the Capitol building. The downward slope made it easy to pick up even more speed.

“Right up here!”

Cole saw a low brick structure hiding in the darkness under some tall trees. In all his visits to D.C., he’d never noticed it before. They tore through an arched entryway and came to a hasty stop in front of a small fountain. Tyson threw both front feet up onto its edge and looked quickly from his handler to Cole and back again.

“Where to?”

Walker had both hands on a black iron grating that seemed to block access to some sort of natural display. The distant stage lights reflected off moving water behind it.

“This is the Grotto, but it’s definitely locked.”

“Do you mind?” Cole said, reaching for the other man’s weapon. Before Walker could reply, he pulled it smoothly from the holster and fired once directly into the lock. The shot echoed wildly in his unprotected ears, accompanied by an impressive shower of blinding sparks. He handed the weapon to a shocked Walker, put a hand on the grating, and pushed. It swung inward, and he crawled through the opening and down the other side.

“Stop right where you are!”

A new male voice shouted loudly, but Cole couldn’t see where it was coming from. He ducked into the shadows of the rocky wall behind him.

“Secret Service!” Walker yelled. “We’re on the same team.”

“Ops center just sent us over here. It’s just you and the dog?”

“No, another guy’s already in there—military type.”

Tyson’s tall silhouette appeared on the edge of the Grotto’s window before he jumped down to join Cole. Walker followed, and finally two Capitol Police officers.

“It’s got to be back there in the cave,” one of them said, splashing past Cole before disappearing under an overhanging rock. The moving beam of a flashlight flickered inside a second later. Cole ran right through the trickling waterfall and jumped down a short set of stairs into a large earthy space below.

“Master key’s not working,” the officer said, fiddling with another door at the far end of the cave.

Walker jumped forward, the dog sticking right by his side. “I’ll do the honors this time.”

The shot felt even louder inside the closed space, and Cole opened his eyes to see Tyson shaking his head vigorously. The vet in him couldn’t help but hope the dog’s eardrums were still intact.

“It needs another one,” the officer said, spinning the broken handle around the still jammed door.

“Get back to the entrance,” the second officer yelled. He dropped to a knee in front of the door, shouldered his breacher shotgun, and placed the muzzle in contact with the locking mechanism.

Cole and the others dove for the stairs as a deafening boom rang out. He turned back just in time to see the door swing open. The officer took off down a spiral stairway with Walker and Tyson right behind him. Cole followed them, and the other Capitol policeman took up the rear. The stairs were steep and narrow, and Cole tripped and almost fell as he tried to keep up with Walker’s nimble form just below him. Their boots clanged noisily against the cast iron stairs, and Cole realized that all the sounds of the concert had faded out as they got deeper underground.

Suddenly, just below them, a burst of automatic weapon fire tore through the air, and the first officer cried out.

Another burst, followed by a loud thud at the bottom of the stairs.

“Man down! Man down!” Walker shouted, ducking down.

Cole stopped right behind him and crouched on a stair, looking out through the railing into the darkness. A faint red emergency exit light glowed on the other side of the room.

“Cut your light,” he whispered to the officer behind him. The bright flashlight beam disappeared.

“Now what?” Walker said quietly.

“Assuming this guy pre-programmed the sprinkler cycle, he’s got all the time in the world. We don’t have that luxury.” Cole felt Tyson’s muscular body quivering against his leg. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Yep,” Walker said.

Cole heard the click of the dog’s lead being released, then a whispered command.

“Go get ‘em, boy.”

Tyson leapt down the remaining stairs and shot across the room, his speeding form barely visible in the darkness. He was heading for a tall white tank against the far wall.

More shots rang out, but they didn’t faze the dog, who dove under the tank. There was a fierce snarl, and then a man’s horrified screams.

“Let’s go!” Walker said, taking off running. Cole was right behind him, jumping over the first officer’s motionless body at the bottom of the stairs

A single shot echoed through the empty space just as they reached the tank. Tyson barked once, then came around the side of it covered in blood.

Cole was on his knees in an instant, running both hands along the dog’s neck, chest, and abdomen, trying to find the wound.

Walker stepped back around the tank. “He’s dead. Bastard blew his own head off back there.”

Cole jumped to his feet. “He must have been pretty confident that this thing was a done deal then. Time check?”

The second Capitol policeman called out from the bottom of the stairs, “9:51. My guy’s gone—”

At that moment, the double doors under the red emergency sign flew off their hinges in an explosion of light and sound that blew Cole right off his feet even from forty feet away. Another method to breach a door.

Two heavily armed and armored men swept inside and took up positions on either side of the entry, weapons scanning the room. They were followed rapidly by the rest of the SWAT team.

“You’re too late!” Cole shouted, raising his hands slowly above his head. “Terrorist is already dead.”

One of the SWAT officers raised his goggles. “What the hell?”

“We beat you down here,” Cole said. “But this thing isn’t over yet.”

Cole saw the control box mounted on the wall beside the tank.

“There!” He was beside it in a second, trying to pry the cover off with both hands. It didn’t budge. “You guys have a crow bar or something?”

“No,” the SWAT officer said, “but this ought to do.”

He brought the butt of his assault rifle down hard against the cover’s exposed hinges, shattering the plastic around them. Cole tossed the cover to the side and stared at blank screen. The keypad below it looked just like an ATM’s. He pressed a green button.

The screen lit up. His eyes flew to the only thing that was changing—a countdown.

6:21

6:20

6:19

The simple text to the left of the numbers said it all.

Next cycle begins in:

6:16

6:15

“How do we stop this thing?” Cole shouted. He tried to press another button, but a message box popped up: PIN required. “I’m going to take a guess and say the dead guy on the other side of this tank was the only one with that number.”