“I’m more worried about whoever she’s coming to meet, or anyone surveilling her.” Court looked at Arnold, saw him dressed in a suit and tie with a camel jacket, and he knew the two men were close to the same size.
He thought about taking his logistics coordinator’s clothes so he could slip into the museum, but then he ruled it out. He said, “Guys, we aren’t dressed for an afternoon of art appreciation.”
It was quiet for a second, and then at the same time, Travers and Zack both said the same thing into his earpiece.
“Bricklayer.”
Court understood what they meant, but he was not in agreement. “He doesn’t know how to do—”
Zack cut him off. “In one of those Pelican cases behind you, he’ll know which one, there is a set of charged video surveillance glasses. He was talking about them earlier. Slap those on his eyes, then give him a sixty-second brief on his mission.”
Court looked to Arnold Reyes. “Can you do it?”
“Wear glasses and walk around a museum? Yes, I should be able to do that.” Court detected no sarcasm in the man’s answer, and he found that a little disconcerting.
He shook it off. “You’ve got this.” To the rest of the team he said, “We’re a go. We’ll park near the Hirshhorn and he’ll go in. I want Teddy to dismount, Night Train behind the wheel and driving around the area. Look for anyone out of place. If someone’s followed her in there, then they’re just as interested in her as we are. Don’t get compromised.”
Court crawled into the back of the van, and as Arnold drove, he directed him to the right black Pelican case from the several back there. From it, Court pulled out a set of clear Ray-Bans that felt a little heavy but seemed to be normal in every other way. As he retook his seat, he said, “Okay, try to get close to her, wherever she is in the building; do a sweep of anyone she meets with, but donotpress your luck.”
“Got it,” he said, and then he pulled into an open spot almost in front of the Hirshhorn.
Court handed Arnold the glasses and immediately saw that this in extremis plan of his to use the logistics coordinator on a surveillance operation had a couple of flaws in it.
For one, Arnold had never served operationally on a surveillance team. He looked a little bewildered and nervous, though he made no protest to the new plan.
But the greatest flaw with this scheme, it became clear to Court now, was that Arnoldalreadywore glasses, and they were clearly not for reasons of aesthetics.
He took off the thick eyeglasses he wore normally, put on the Ray-Bans, then immediately took them off again.
“Problem?” Court asked.
“I…I just am used to my own glasses. These don’t have my correction.”
Court said, “Do your best, man. Just walk around, look at the art, and—”
“I can’t see the art. I’ll be lucky if I can see the front door.”
“Shit.” Court rubbed perspiration from his forehead. “Are you legally blind without your glasses?”
“I…I don’t know. Nobody has ever told me I’m blind, but I definitely can’t—”
“Then you’re fine.” Court patted him on the shoulder. “Just try not to stumble into a Picasso.”
With the glasses still off, Arnold said, “I’ll try. I have to set these up.” For the next thirty seconds he turned on the glasses, made sure there was no light on the frames indicating that the streaming feature was on, then connected the video stream with everyone already on the conference call. Jill came over the call to say she wouldn’t be able to run facial recog with the resolution from the stream, but Arnold confirmed that the glasses were also recording in HD, so once he got them back to the safe house, she could get the image quality she needed.
This all taken care of, Arnold put the glasses on, fumbled for the door handle to get out of the Savana, then slid out into the frigid afternoon.
Court climbed out the other side and caught up with Arnold on the sidewalk. “Youcansee a little, right?”
“A little, yes,” Arnold said, and then he headed for the entrance to the museum while Court walked off to the left.
Hanley’s going to kick my ass for this,Court thought as he headed west on the sidewalk.
Twenty-Five
As soon as Arnold disappeared, Court continued moving back in the direction of the Metro station he’d left minutes earlier, just to look at the vehicles parked alongside Independence, and the people braving the wind and cold on the sidewalk. He saw a few homeless people’s tents there in the grass; he’d seen little pockets of tents all over D.C. today and assumed it was like this every day, as it was in most major cities.
He made a right turn, headed up a little footpath in the direction of the National Mall, and checked in with Travers, who was in the process of walking the neighborhood on the east side of the museum.
