Chapter 61
WASHINGTON, D.C.
Checking the clock on her dash, Vaughn pressed her accelerator a little harder. She hated being rushed.
She hated even more arriving at a secure post with the feeling that her mind was still somewhere else. Nevertheless, part of it was still back at the teahouse with Erin and Connor. They were no closer to understanding why someone wanted them dead.
Nearing the White House complex, she removed her credentials and presented them at the outer checkpoint. The officer scanned her in and signaled her forward.
She guided her SUV into the vehicle screening lane and stopped where indicated. Another officer stepped into view and motioned for her to hold. She put the SUV in park.
A mirror rig was brought around, followed by another piece of equipment. Vaughn had seen the process hundreds of times. Usually it was a simple routine. Tonight, however, something was different. She could see the shift in the screeners’ body language the second it happened.
In her rearview, one of them had raised a hand while the other crouched lower. Then both men stepped back at once. As they did, Vaughn’s pulse kicked up.
“Ma’am,” said the first officer as he came to her window, “please turn off the vehicle and step out. Slowly.”
It was the tone that got to her.
He wasn’t expressing suspicion or caution. It was alarm.
Killing the engine, she opened the door and stepped out. The second officer directed her to step back from the SUV while a third moved in and manually checked beneath her chassis.
“What’d you guys find?” she asked, bending down and looking for herself.
And then she saw it—a small black disc the size of a heavy coat button. No one needed to tell her what it was. She knew the moment she saw it. It was a tracker.
Instantly, her mind went to Erin, Connor, and having dropped them off at the teahouse.
Son of a bitch. Olson, or one of his people, must have spotted them in the Strategis parking lot.
In a flash she had her phone in her hand and was already dialing Erin and Connor’s burner.
The call tried to connect, hung for two beats, and failed. She immediately tried again. She got the same result. The call didn’t even go to voicemail.
Damn it.
The teahouse had no Wi-Fi and the cell service out there was garbage. She knew that and had warned them about it herself. Now their comms were being cut off right when she needed them most.
She found Fields in her contacts and hit “call.”
The FBI agent picked up on the second ring. “You okay?”
“Olson knows where Erin and Connor are. I need your help. Right now.”