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Mike rubbed her back. “Do you know where he is, Jack?”
“He’s somewhere in the States. He’s a British citizen on a visit and has overstayed his welcome.”
“So, he could be here in DC.”
“He could be anywhere.”
Claire sniffled. “Is this enough to move in on Correll, Jack?”
“We have no audio from the video, no way of knowing why or how he met Yousef. He could claim it was a chance meeting or that Yousef contacted him and he had no idea who he was.”
Mike slammed his hands against the steering wheel. “But it’s gotta be enough to bring Correll in for questioning, to start an investigation.”
“It is, and we’re working on it right now. Are you two safe?”
“Safe and working on a new lead on Correll. Anything on the White House plot?” Mike held his breath. He wanted in on that in the worst way.
“We’ve notified White House security and the CIA that there’s a credible threat against the White House on Christmas Day. They’re sweeping the buildings and the grounds, including the room where the memorial for Haywood is being held. They haven’t come up with anything, and that room has been sealed off since the sweep—nobody in or out.”
“Then it’s a threat from the outside in. Correll must know about the extra security precautions.”
“He does.”
“I wonder if he realizes that Mike and I are behind them.” Claire brushed her wet cheeks.
“He just might, Claire. That’s why you two still need to keep a low profile.”
Mike crumpled up the paper from his burgers. “Is sitting in a fast-food parking lot in Virginia low profile enough?”
“Figures you’d be eating, Becker. Just so you know, Bennett and Liam McCabe are heading out to DC to work this White House threat.”
Mike closed his eyes briefly as a shaft of pain knifed his temple. “Sure, boss.”
Jack paused. “Mike, you’ve been my number-one guy for a long time and you’re number one on this assignment, too. You have nothing to prove.”
“Got it, boss. Keep me posted.”
“Same atcha.”
Mike ended the call and then curled his arm around Claire, pulling her close. “You did it, snow queen. Justice for Shane. How does it feel?”
She blinked wet lashes at him. “Like some huge weight off my shoulders, like I can move forward with my life.”
“You’re not going to shift your focus back to your mother’s accident?”
“If Prospero or the CIA can link Spencer to these terrorists, to Tempest, and put him away? That’s justice for Mom, too.”
He kissed the side of her head. “Maybe Fiona can give us something that’ll put the nail in Correll’s coffin, and then he’ll give it up on the White House plot and Caliban.”
“It’s good that Prospero is sending backup, right?” She entwined her fingers with his. “The point is to stop the attack. You’ll still be in on the action.”
“Of course.” He squeezed her hand, cursing his transparency in her presence. “It’s almost five o’clock. Let’s go meet Fiona.”
They drove back to DC and through the crowded streets near the Mall with Claire directing him toward her stepfather’s office building.
As they turned the corner, Mike’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. An ambulance, fire truck and three Metro police cars took up the space on the curb in front of a high-rise office building.
“Is that his building, Claire?”
She had one hand at her slender throat. “Yes. It can’t be... Please, God.”
Mike slowed the car as he pulled up behind a fire truck parked at an angle. He rolled down the window and shouted to a guy at the edge of a crowd of people on the sidewalk. “What’s going on? What happened?”
The man took a step back from the crowd. “Some woman. Someone said she was attacked in that stairwell in the parking structure.”
Claire hung on the edge of the car window. “Is she okay?”
“No idea. I think they’re putting her on a stretcher now.”
Mike threw the car into Park. “Climb into the driver’s seat in case you have to move the car. I’m going to have a look.”
