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“According to Annabelle, Friedman’s office is up the stairs and at the rear,” she said as she rubbed her thigh.
An hour later they stood facing each other, the failure evident on their features.
Stone perched on the edge of Friedman’s desk and looked around. They had gone through all the paper files, but Stone figured many things would be kept on the computers. But the system was password-protected, and while they had tried a few, nothing worked.
“Any brilliant ideas?” asked Chapman.
“No. We should’ve had Harry come with us. He probably could’ve gotten into the computer.”
“We should probably get out of here.”
They moved back down the stairs. Stone saw it first, out the window. He rushed to the keypad and armed the system and then pulled Chapman into an interior office on the first floor of the suite.
A few moments later the door opened and the security system’s beep went off. Marisa Friedman hit the appropriate keys and the beeping stopped. She shut the door behind her and climbed the stairs.
Stone edged open the door and peered out, Chapman at his shoulder.
“Do we leave now while she’s occupied?” said Chapman.
“No, we wait.”
Twenty minutes passed, then he and Chapman heard steps coming back down and Stone eased the door shut. They listened to the security system being set and a few seconds later the door closed.
Stone counted to five and then looked out.
“It’s clear. Let’s go.”
They managed to open and close the door during the delay of the security system arming.
“There!” said Chapman, pointing to the north where Friedman was just about to turn the corner at the Decatur House.
“Oliver? Agent Chapman?”
They turned to see Alex Ford standing there watching them. “What are you two doing here?”
“What are you doing here?” blurted out Chapman.
“I’m on perimeter security duty, if it’s any of your business,” retorted Alex. He looked at Stone. “Oliver?”
“I’m sorry, Alex, no time. I’ll explain later.”
Stone grabbed Chapman’s arm and they hurried off, leaving Alex to gape after them.
“She’s getting in a cab,” said Chapman a minute or so later.
“Not a problem.” Stone hailed another cab that passed by a few moments later. They climbed in and Stone showed his badge and instructed the driver to follow the other vehicle.
The cab turned down one street and then another, steadily making its way west.
“This is looking familiar,” said Stone.
“What?” asked Chapman.
“George Washington University. She could have walked. It’s a nice evening.”
“Do you know where she’s going?” asked Chapman.
“I believe so, yes.”
“So spill it,” Chapman said in exasperation.
The cab pulled to the curb. They watched as Friedman got out.
“She’s going to see Fuat Turkekul,” said Stone.
“How do you know that?” demanded Chapman.
“Because that’s the same building where I met with him.”
“Well, let’s go see what they’re up to.”
At that instant an SUV screeched in front of their cab and two more behind. Before they could react, they were surrounded by armed men. Stone and Chapman were pulled from the vehicle and pushed into one of the SUVs, and it started moving before they could even catch their breath. As Stone looked back he saw Marisa Friedman staring after them. She’d obviously played her part to perfection in setting him up. And yet her features didn’t speak of triumph. She actually looked a little sad, Stone thought.
Twenty minutes later they were hurried into a building that looked abandoned. Up dimly lit steps to a door. Through the doorway and then another. They were pushed into seats and the men with guns left, shutting the door behind them. The lights came on and someone moved at the front of the room.
Adelphia sat there, her hands in her lap.
Riley Weaver looked extremely upset.
Sir James McElroy simply seemed intrigued.
CHAPTER 65
WEAVER SAID, “WHAT THE HELL are we going to do with you guys? You keep popping up like a really shitty penny.”
McElroy put his elbows on the table and made a steeple with his hands. “How did you get onto Marisa Friedman?”
Stone said, “She was really the only one left.”
“And you deduced where she was going?”
“To see Turkekul.”
McElroy glanced at Weaver and then at Adelphia.
Stone said to McElroy, “So this is why you wouldn’t answer my earlier question, after I found out about your connection with him?”
“You mean whether I was withholding anything else from you? In my defense, I came to this a bit late in the game, and the more we delved into it, the more tangled it became. I have to say that this is the most intense chess match of my career, Oliver. It really is. I hope I’m up to the challenge.”
Stone turned to Weaver. “And are you up to the challenge?”
Weaver flushed. “We’re doing the best we can under very difficult circumstances. One little misstep and we blow everything out of the water. That’s what you almost did tonight.”
“How did you get onto us?” asked Chapman.
“Easy. We followed Friedman and saw you following her.”
“Why follow your own agent?” asked Stone.
“Because she’s extremely valuable and we take care of our people.”
“I saw her looking at us when you snatched us. She didn’t seem surprised.”
“When we spotted you, we phoned her, filled her in.”
“So she didn’t know until then?” asked Stone.
“What’s it to you?” barked Weaver.
“So what is the real deal with Fuat Turkekul?” asked Chapman. “He’s not going after bin Laden, is he?”
“How long have you suspected him of being a traitor?” said Stone.
Weaver looked surprised, Chapman shocked, but McElroy nodded thoughtfully. “I thought you might work it out.”
“It took me long enough,” noted Stone. “Too long, in fact.”
“He came to us with much promise,” said McElroy. “So much promise, in fact, that Adelphia here, one of our best, was assigned to work with him before we transitioned him principally to Friedman’s handling.”
Adelphia nodded. “That was one of the reasons I had to go away, Oliver,” she said. “To work with Fuat.”
“On what exactly?” asked Chapman.
Weaver laughed ruefully. “He came and sold us a real bill of goods. First, he could take us to bin Laden. Then, we had a mole in our midst. And he would help us track it down.”
“But it turned out he was the mole?” said Stone.
“A Trojan horse, more like it,” noted McElroy. “He came to us in disguise, as it were. And now he has unleashed a virus amongst us.”
“A virus? How?” asked Chapman.
“We let him in the door,” lamented Weaver. “And he brought other elements with him. Unknown elements.”
McElroy added, “Our only recourse now is to let him think we trust him, are working with him and then follow it up to his other connections. Not the preferred way to go about it, but we have few options.”
“That’s why he wasn’t doing much?” said Stone.
