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“That’s a negative.” It was a different voice this time. “We’re two miles out and obscured by a tree line.”
One of the men left the porch and walked over to one of the cars. He climbed in, and a moment later the car started moving. The technician announced, “One of the cars is leaving.”
“We see it.” Rapp flipped up his lip mike, looked at Marcus, and snapped, “Find out where we are, and tell him to step on it!” Pulling the lip mike back down, he asked, “Libra Three, can you keep contact with both targets?”
There was no response at first, and then, “That depends on how big the separation gets between the two.”
“Keep an eye on both for as long as you can.”
Dumond left the small door to the front of the van open and sat back down at his console. “He said we just passed Queen Anne Road.”
“That means we should be at the Muddy Creek exit in five minutes.” Looking at Coleman, Rapp pointed behind them with his thumb and said, “Tell the boys to be ready for some action.” Rapp watched the screen and listened to the technician call out the car’s maneuvers. Rapp’s thoughts kept going back to Anna. He was going to have to decide pretty quickly if the chopper was going to keep an eye on the house or follow the car.
Coleman knew what Rapp was thinking and said, “The house isn’t going anywhere.” Rapp didn’t say anything, he just kept staring at the screen. Coleman said, “Did you hear me? I said the…”
“I heard you.”
The secure phone on Dumond’s console started ringing. Dumond grabbed it and then turned to Rapp. “It’s Irene. She wants to know what’s going on.”
Coleman persisted. “Mitch, the Professor could be in that car.”
“I know, I know.” He looked at Dumond and said, “I can’t talk to her right now.”
The pilot of the chopper came over the headset. “You’re going to have to make a decision between the car and the house.”
“We can’t afford to lose contact with the car,” Coleman persisted.
Dumond held out the phone a second time. “She says she wants to talk to you.”
Rapp felt like ripping the phone from the console and throwing it out the door. It wasn’t what he wanted to do, but he knew what was right. Rapp lowered his lip mike and said, “Libra Three, stay with the car.” Then, tearing the headset off, he grabbed the phone and growled, “What?”
Rapp was at his core a lone wolf. He was not a team player unless he was the leader, and he expected others to support him and follow without question. In a business that was filled with huge egos, he often found it easiest to work on his own. Rapp never apologized for this behavior. He let his results do the talking. His government had sent him on dozens of nasty missions, and he had achieved the primary goal in almost every single one of them.
Clutching the phone firmly in his left hand, he said, “Irene, I am really busy right now.”
“I know you are, but I need to be kept in the loop.”
“We have at least four individuals in my house,” snapped Rapp, “that I obviously didn’t invite over. I think Anna might be there, but I can’t be sure. A car just left the house with one occupant that we think might be the Professor. These are all things that Marcus could have told you. I’ve got my hands full right now, Irene. I will call you when I need something.” He leaned forward and slammed the phone down.
He turned to Dumond, his face red with anger. “We are in the field, not back at Langley! I am calling the shots, and I expect my orders to be followed to the letter.” Rapp turned his glare on Coleman. “I expect and want your input, but when it’s time to take action, the debating is over. Are we all clear on this?”
Coleman and Dumond both nodded—Coleman out of respect for the need of a chain of command and Dumond out of fear. A moment later, Dumond touched his headset and said, “The car is stopping.”
Rapp’s head snapped around and looked at the monitor. The sedan was pulling into a gas station. Rapp tried to figure out which one it was. He yelled to the driver up front, “How far until the Solomons Island Road?”
“We’re coming up on it right now.”
“Take it south, get over in the left lane immediately, and be ready to turn into the Exxon station.” Rapp turned to Dumond. “Turn some of these lights off.”
“Scott, tell the boys there’s a Standard station on our right when we get off the exit. Tell them to pull into the lot and wait to back us up if we need it.” The van started to slow, and Rapp stuck his head into the driver’s compartment. As they took a right onto Solomons Island Road, Rapp looked across the street at the parking lot of the Exxon Station. He sighted the dark blue sedan parked right in front of the store. He had to think quickly. Rapp noted that the driver of their van was wearing black pants and a white shirt with a black bow tie. He looked like he should—a caterer. “How much gas do we have?”
“Three-quarters of a tank.”
“Do you have a credit card on you?”
The man hesitated momentarily. It was a strange question coming from a man he’d never met. “Yeah.”
“Are you wired?”
