Unholy Code (A Lana Elkins Thriller) (18 page)

BOOK: Unholy Code (A Lana Elkins Thriller)
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Three rings, no doubt.

What none had expected—what shocked and horrified everyone—was the ringing explosion of a bomb so nearby that the walls and floor shuddered.

As long-dormant dust loosed from the ceiling, every head turned toward the rear. Senator Willens was no longer looking so entertained by Lana’s presence; his startled eyes peered right past her.

Capitol Police officers burst through the doors. One of them announced an emergency evacuation of the hearing room. As swiftly as he spoke, the men and women with him fanned out and directed those attending the hearing to the exits already filled with the receding backs of the senators.

Agent Robin Maray appeared suddenly at Lana’s side, telling her to follow him. “You too, Deputy Director Holmes.”

But Lana’s old friend was gripping his chest. Without warning, he pitched forward heavily, head and upper body coming to rest on a three-ring binder.

Agent Maray was already on the radio transmitter tucked under his suit jacket lapel, calling for emergency medical personnel.

Lana checked Holmes’s neck for a pulse, finding it thready and slow. He did not react to her touch.

“We’ve got to get
you
out of here.” Robin signaled one of the security guards, who arrived as two paramedics raced into Dirksen. He took Lana’s arm. “We don’t know what’s coming next,” he said into her ear.

Loathe to leave Holmes, Lana asked, “Is he going to be all right?”

She immediately recognized the juvenile futility of her question, with the paramedics only beginning to attend to the deputy director. But Robin was already rushing her toward the door through which the senators had exited moments ago. From ahead, gunfire erupted abruptly. Outside the walls of the Senate building, she hoped. A second bomb, farther away, exploded as they passed quickly through a smaller room, rattling windows they were sprinting past.

“Stay low,” Robin ordered as they burst into a light-filled hallway.

“Where are we going?” she asked as they scrambled down the broad corridor.

“A secure room,” he replied.

Senate staffers were stuffing themselves into an elevator.

Turning to Lana, he pointed to two Capitol Police officers rushing down a flight of stairs about thirty feet away. “Follow them.”

She nodded and fled.

He bolted to the elevators, ordering the mostly younger men and women out of the packed space, grabbing a callow-looking man frantically working his phone, oblivious to Robin’s commands.

“All of you, use the stairs!” he shouted.

That was the last Lana heard of Robin as she headed down them herself. Even in the rush she noticed people on their phones, swearing in exasperation. Then she overheard a man say he couldn’t get online.

Here?
Lana wondered if the attack included the Senate’s ISP. She’d have to check.

In seconds she was sequestered in a crowded basement corridor, awaiting entry into what appeared to be the Russell’s very own panic room. She tried to use her phone. No service for her, either.

She looked up as the door to the panic room was locked, leaving her and about forty others in the hallway.

“The rest of you must stay down here for the time being,” a blue-suited woman announced with great authority. “We’re here to protect you.”

Officers in full SWAT regalia flanked the crowd. The men and women were armed with automatic rifles, helmets, grenade launchers, and belts heavy with weapons and gear less readily identifiable to Lana.

She could not let herself believe ISIS or any other terrorists had actually laid siege to the nation’s capital. This wasn’t Ramadi. This wasn’t even San Bernardino. This was Washington DC. But neither would she have believed that Liberty Square could ever have been the scene of a massacre of innocents.

She heard children crying and wondered how they’d ended up down there. She also remembered an alarming episode of
Homeland
from years ago, in which Washington’s elite were jammed into a supposed secure room—with a suicide bomber in their midst. What had unnerved her then was what frightened her now: the very real possibility that a mass killer already stood among them.

With no Internet access, Lana could do nothing but think and worry. She found hope in every minute that passed without an explosion in the corridor or terrorists trying to shoot their way through the Russell.

A tall man wearing lanyards and laminates walked through the crowd, eyeing everyone carefully. She figured he was searching for a suicide bomber.
But what do you look for?
The would-be bomber on
Homeland
had been among the least likely suspects.

Turned out the man with the laminates was looking for her.

“Ms. Elkins, come with me.”

“Why? Who are you?”

“Detective Adams, Capitol Police. You were scheduled to testify, weren’t you?”

“That’s correct.”

“So you were in the hearing room when the bomb went off?”

“Yes.”

He was already guiding her up stairs near the rear of the building.

“I’m going to put you in the hands of the Secret Service. They want to talk to you.”

A special agent of the Secret Service intercepted them on the staircase. The woman wasted no time getting to what appeared to be her most critical question: “Did anybody in Dirksen react strangely, in your opinion?”

“No, but all I noticed was dust falling down from the ceiling before Deputy Director Holmes collapsed onto the table. Do you know how he’s—?”

“So no one ran off right away? Nobody was praising God or Allah or anything obvious like that?”

“No, nothing. People just looked shocked. I don’t even remember anyone asking what it was. It was like everyone knew.”

“We want you out of the Capitol zone as soon as possible. You might well have been a target. Did you drive?”

“Yes.”

“FBI Agent Stan Pence will get you to your car and accompany you home. He’ll be here shortly. Do not go to Fort Meade. The marine detachment there is fully activated. We want you to go home. As we understand it, your residence has bulletproof windows, a guard dog, and that you’ve been trained with firearms.”

“That’s correct,” Lana replied.

“Ms. Elkins, we also need to tell you that there was a bombing just outside CyberFortress, almost to the second with the one that went off outside Dirksen. We don’t believe that’s a coincidence.”

“Oh, my God.” Nightmare images appeared, unbidden, in her mind’s eye. “Was anyone injured? Or killed?”

“No injuries, no deaths, except for the suicide bomber.”

“We have blast-resistant exterior walls over there, too.”

Lana tried to text Emma immediately. Failed. She tried calling. Failed. And still no Internet.

The special agent went on: “The bomber was a woman. She made an attempt to enter your firm but was repulsed by security personnel.”

“I should be with them.”

“No, you should not. Except for security personnel, they’ve been evacuated until we can secure the surrounding blocks.”

“How is Holmes?” Lana asked again.

The woman rested her hand on Lana’s shoulder. “Headed for the ICU at the VA Medical Center.”

“But he’s alive?”

“Yes, he is.”

“May I go
there?

“Honestly, we don’t want you doing that. There have been numerous casualties. We’re trying to get everyone away from the District so we can lock it down and help those in need. Are you armed?”

“I have a Sig in my car.”

“Excellent.”

A blue-suited man ran up, early thirties, glasses, perspiring, as though he’d been in motion since the attacks began.

“This is Agent Stan Pence. Agent Pence, Ms. Lana Elkins,” the Secret Service woman said, then started walking away.

“Wait,” Lana called to her. “What about Agent Maray? He’s part of a security unit assigned to me full—”

“Not now. We can’t spare him. Agent Pence will accompany you home. Once you’re safely locked in your house, he’ll return to duty here. Thank you for your cooperation.”

Pence was on his radio when she looked back to him, signing off quickly.

“How many casualties?” she asked right away.

“I’m not permitted to disclose that information, Ms. Elkins. Where are you parked?”

She told him, talking as they moved out of the Russell Senate Building and down its stone steps. “Look, I’m not trying to pull rank on you, but my security clearance is probably higher than yours, Agent Pence. You can tell me, for God’s sake. Do I look like a terrorist? I was here to testify before the Select Committee on Intelligence.”

“Take it up with my commanding officer. Let’s keep moving.”

He gripped her arm and led her toward the parking structure on Massachusetts Avenue. Sirens screamed. The roads were chockablock with cars. To avoid the gridlock, ambulances and other emergency vehicles were rolling down sidewalks and across the Capitol’s wide expanses of neatly manicured grass. The cacophony was ear-splitting. The whole time Agent Pence kept them walking at a furious pace.

She wondered how the bomb- and rifle-toting terrorists had forged their way so close to the nation’s seat of power. Then again, several years earlier an unauthorized man had made it into the living quarters of the White House, and another guy landed a gyrocopter on the West Lawn of the Capitol.

“Can you tell me about the gunfire?”

The way Pence was looking around, with his handgun by his side, he appeared to be ready for more of it. “No, there’s an embargo on all info.”

“Can you tell me where?”

He shook his head. “Here we go.”

The garage was half a block away. Amid all the turmoil, Lana hadn’t noticed their progress.

Still holding her arm, Pence led her into the parking structure. “Now you take the lead,” he said.

He still held his semi-automatic close to his hip.

Lana pointed their way to her Prius. Pence took the passenger seat, his handgun in plain sight now.

She reached past him and grabbed her Sig Sauer from the glove box. The agent nodded in approval, but cautioned her to follow his commands on any action. “Don’t start shooting until I do.”

Presuming you’re still alive
, she thought reflexively.

She tried to text Emma from her car.

“Service is spotty,” Penn said, shaking his head.

The agent gave her step-by-step directions, and in minutes they were speeding down the Washington Mall.

They passed hundreds of people. Most looked scared. Many were running. She hadn’t seen this much panic since the grid went down. Not even the nuclear bombing of Antarctica had produced so much transparent fear. But that explosion had taken place at a great distance, and the seas had risen over weeks. They were still rising, but even flooding of coastal communities lacked the immediate drama of suicide bombers and armed skirmishes in the District of Columbia.

They made it to Bethesda in good time, given the challenges. Lana had taken mental notes of the byways she hadn’t been aware of in the past. Don’s truck was gone.

Jojo greeted her at the door. He looked right past her to Agent Pence.

“He’s okay,” she said to Jojo.

The Malinois might not have agreed: he followed Pence into every room on the ground floor and then up the stairs to the second level.

“Your dog never let me out of his sight, but kept his distance,” Pence reported when he came back down to the living room, where Lana had just checked her phone and seen there was still no service. “He’s a good dog.”

She nodded. “I think so, too. I really like him.”

“Nobody’s gotten into your home. I’ve contacted Bethesda PD. They’re dispatching an officer in a marked car to sit in your driveway. Meantime, keep your weapon on hand at all times. I wish we could spare you one of our agents but we’re in crisis mode at the Capitol.”

Lana nodded.

“Are you okay?” Pence asked with finality.

“I’m fine. Thank you. How are you getting back?”

He pointed outside, where a full-size gray sedan waited on the street. Right then the Bethesda cruiser pulled up.

Before Pence was out the door, Lana checked her phone again. Nothing.

Minutes later, though, her phone beeped. She had service. “R u ok?” she texted Emma at once.

“Yes @ Suf. U?”

“Fine @ home”

“Thank Allah”

That gave Lana pause. “Do u want 2 stay with him?”

“Yes”

As if I had to ask
. “ok”

She called Jeff Jensen, who answered on the first ring.

“Where are you?” she asked.

“Here at CF.”

“I thought everyone was ordered out.”

“I pulled rank. I don’t have to tell you that we’ve got intelligence stored here that no FBI agents are cleared to see.”

“Are they there?”

“Yeah, they’ve secured the perimeter.”

“I’ll be right down.”

“I think that’s smart.”

Lana stopped to draw a glass of tap water, downing it in gulps. Then she texted Don, unsurprised that he was parked near Sufyan’s house. She knew the jury was still out for him regarding Tahir. Lana told Don she was heading to CyberFortress, and that Em had just said she’d be staying put.

When Lana headed for the garage, she was shocked to see it wasn’t even noon yet. So much had happened.

Jojo tailed her. She looked at him. “Ready to work? Let’s go.”

She led him to her car. The Malinois jumped onto the passenger seat, looking exceptionally alert.

Lana was backing out of her driveway thirty seconds later. She told the officer in the cruiser she was leaving. When he objected, she flashed her federal government ID and said she wouldn’t return for at least an hour. She expected the drive to CyberFortress to take no more than fifteen minutes, even in the worst of traffic.

But more than cars and trucks were on the road.

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