Hell's Corner (26 page)

I
T WAS DARK IN THE CITY.
Stone watched carefully from a spot he’d chosen in Lafayette Park. He checked his watch. Ten seconds to go. He counted down in his head. The light started blinking from a distance. This was a little demonstration he and Chapman had come up with. She was clicking a high-powered red-beamed laser off and on to simulate the muzzle flashes of a weapon.

She was standing in the rooftop garden of the Hay-Adams. The light was barely visible from where he was standing. And the trees were blocking any real sightline. He called Chapman and told her the results of his observations. She moved to the next spot in their experiment, a building behind and to the left of the hotel.

Stone had chosen that building using the hotel as a base marker, because of the bullet pattern in the park and also because the windows in that building actually opened. He had recalled that all the markers denoting found slugs were on the left-hand or western side of the park. That didn’t seem unusual at first, but now coupled with the revelation that the shooters had not been at the Hay-Adams, it was not simply unusual; it was enlightening.

While Stone was waiting for Chapman to reach the next location, he felt a presence behind him. He turned. It was Laura Ashburn, the female FBI agent who had interrogated him over the slaying of Tom Gross. She was dressed all in black except for her blue FBI windbreaker with the gold lettering on the back. She wore an FBI ball cap and was staring at Stone.

“Agent Ashburn,” he said. “Anything I can do for you?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” she said.

“All right.”

“We filed our report.”

“Okay.”

“It wasn’t very flattering for you.”

“After our meeting I didn’t expect it to be. Is that all you wanted to tell me?”

“I’m not sure,” she said hesitantly.

He smiled.

“You think something’s funny.”

He said, “Let me tell you what I think is funny. After all the assets that have been thrown at this case no one knows what the hell really happened here or why. You’re all running around pointing fingers at everyone else, withholding information, spying on your own people.”

“What the hell are you—”

Stone talked right over her. “Spying on your own people and doing your best to try and get ahead of the other guy. The only thing that’s lost in the process is actually solving the case, and maybe saving some lives down the road.”

“Well, that won’t help Tom Gross.”

“You’re right, it won’t. What might have helped Tom Gross was a little trust and cooperation from his own agency.”

“What exactly did he tell you?” Ashburn asked, her features full of confusion.

“Basically that if he couldn’t even trust his own side how the hell would he ever solve the case?”

Ashburn looked down and then cast furtive glances around the park where the investigation was proceeding, albeit at a more subdued pace. “I finally got some background on you,” she said, her gaze still avoiding his.

“I’m sure that will make its way into your amended report.”

“Did you really turn down the Medal of Honor?”

Stone glanced at her. “Why do you want to know?”

“My son is in Afghanistan. Marines.”

“I’m sure he’ll serve his country well, just like his mother.”

“Look, you can be pissed at me, but leave my son—”

“I don’t play that game. I meant exactly what I said. You’re just doing your job. I don’t fault you. If I were in your shoes, I’d be
upset too. I’d want to strike back too. And if you want to use me as a target that’s fine. There’s plenty of blame on my end. I won’t deny that.”

With this brutal self-judgment hanging out there the woman’s features softened.

“I’ve actually been going over things again, about what happened in Pennsylvania, I mean. That’s really why I came here to find you.”

“Why would you be going over things again? You already filed your report, as you said.”

“Look, I
am
pissed. Tom was a friend of mine. I do want a target. And you seemed like a very handy one.”

“All right,” Stone said evenly.

“The thing is, I’m not sure you actually did anything wrong. I interviewed the state cops. They said you probably saved their lives. Acted before they even knew what was happening. That you got shots off at the shooter and were after him while they were still wondering what was going on.”

“I’ve probably had a bit more experience than they have in those types of situations.”

“So I understand,” she said frankly. “And Tom could have called in backup when he contacted the LEOs. In fact he should have.”

“I honestly thought the dangerous part would be at Kravitz’s place, not the tree farm.”

Ashburn let out a resigned breath. “I believe you.”

“And I hope you believe me when I tell you I won’t rest until I find out who did it.”

She stared at him for a long moment. “I do.”

The two agents exchanged a firm handshake and then Ashburn disappeared into the darkness. A few moments later Stone gazed out at the red blinking light and then over at imagined points on the grass where he gauged that the “bullets” would be “hitting” based on his roughly estimated trajectory. He punched in the number for Chapman. “Go up one floor,” he said.

A few minutes later the lights commenced again.

He called her. “I think that’s it. Any evidence of the guns having been fired from there?”

“No casings, but I’ve got a patch of what looks like oil or grease. I’ll collect some of it for examination. And when I opened the window, there was no squeak or creak.”

“Like it had been opened recently.”

“Yes, but, Oliver, you didn’t tell me this place was a U.S. government building undergoing renovation.”

“I was hoping I was wrong.”

CHAPTER 46

S
TONE AND
C
HAPMAN RETURNED
to his cottage. They had just settled in to talk over this latest discovery when Chapman hit the light on Stone’s desk, plunging the space into darkness.

“What is it?” hissed Stone.

She didn’t have time to answer.

The door burst open and Stone counted at least three men hurtling through it.

They were masked, dressed in black and carried MP-5s. They moved as one unit, an unstoppable force.

They were just about to meet the proverbial immovable object.

Chapman hit the first man with a crushing blow to his knee, pushing it in a direction no knee was designed to go. He went down screaming and grabbing at his destroyed limb. Stone grabbed his gun from his desk drawer, but he didn’t even have time to aim before Chapman cartwheeled across the space, dodging a wall of submachine-gun rounds launched from the last two men in the unit.

It was soon to be one left.

Her fist drove up and through the man’s throat at the same time that she cantilevered her body to a seemingly impossible angle, whipping around him like he was the pole and she was the dancer. She kicked his legs out from under him and delivered a crushing blow to the back of his neck. He coughed once and lay still.

Not missing a beat, Chapman launched herself at the remaining man, who was already halfway to the door, in full retreat.

When he saw what the man had thrown Stone screamed, “Look out.” He fired. His rounds ripped through wood, plaster, but unfortunately not flesh.

The mini-explosion ripped through the place. The flash-bang completed half its mission, the blinding flash. Stone had covered his eyes just in time.

Chapman caught it full in the face and yelled in pain.

Stone stuffed his shirt collar in his ears and then covered them with his arms. An instant later came the bang.
Now they’ll regroup with reinforcements and come back to finish the job,
thought Stone.

What they hadn’t counted on was Stone not being paralyzed. He rolled right, snagged Chapman’s Walther off her, and held it in his left hand. He grabbed Chapman by the arm and slid her behind his desk. He gripped his customized pistol in his right hand and waited.

The first man came through the door, his submachine gun on full auto. Stone ducked down, slid sideways, and fired through the opening under the desk. His rounds hit their target: the shooter’s knees. No Kevlar on legs. The man went down screaming. The second man started to hit the opening, but Stone fired three shots through the gap.

A few moments of silence. Then, a siren in the distance.

Stone called out: “I’ll make a deal before the police get here. I’ll let you take your wounded buddies out. You have five seconds. After that, we all take our chances. And from what I’ve seen, you’re good, but I’m better.”

The siren drew closer.

“All right,” a voice said.

The men were slid out. A few moments later Stone heard a vehicle start. Then silence again. The siren also faded away. Going somewhere, apparently.

He rolled Chapman over, checked her pulse. She was alive. He cradled her in his arms.

A minute later she opened her eyes, stared up at him. “Bloody hell,” she exclaimed. She looked around. “I know I got two of them. I think I killed one of them. Where the hell are they?”

“We came to an understanding.”

They both jumped up as something slammed against the remains of the front door.

Stone aimed his gun at the doorway and Chapman leapt to her feet as Stone tossed her the Walther.

“Oliver?”

“Annabelle?” he said, when she appeared in the doorway.

A second later Reuben fell into the room, landing on the wooden floor.

“Reuben,” exclaimed Stone.

Annabelle helped Stone get the big man up and over to a chair. Blood was seeping down his forearm and his face was pale.

“What happened?” said Stone.

“We were followed in Pennsylvania. Got into a gunfight. Reuben was shot. He needs a doctor.”

Reuben put a hand on Stone’s arm and pulled him downward.

“I’ll be okay,” Reuben said weakly. “One in the arm went clean through but it hurts like hell. Other one nicked my leg.”

Stone looked down at the hole in Reuben’s pants leg.

“You need to go to the hospital. Right now.” He looked angrily at Annabelle. “Why haven’t you already taken him?”

“He insisted on coming here. Reuben wanted me to run for help, but when I heard all the shooting I had to come back and make sure he was okay.”

Stone glanced at Chapman before looking back at Reuben. “Did you see anything that might identify the men?”

“They were good, Oliver,” he said. “Trained very well. That’s what I wanted to come and tell you. I don’t know how I got the jump on them. Better to be lucky than good. Got hold of one of their weapons, opened fire and they all took off.”

“Trained very well? Meaning?” said Stone.

He turned to Annabelle. “Go get it from the car.”

“But Reuben, we need to get you—”

“Get it and then I’ll go quietly.”

She ran out to the car and was back in a few seconds. She was holding something. She handed it over to Stone.

He looked down at it and then glanced at Reuben. “Do you know what this is?”

Reuben nodded. “Figured you would too.”

Chapman looked at it over Stone’s shoulder. “That’s a 9mm Kashtan submachine gun.”

“Yes, it is,” said Stone. “Russian made.”

Reuben grimaced and clutched his arm. “That’s right. Russian made.” He glanced up at Annabelle. “The weird language those guys were talking when they took down the hoop?”

“You think it was Russian?”

“I’d bet a year’s pay it was. Not that that’s a lot of money, but still.” He grimaced.

“Weird language?” asked Stone.

Annabelle started to explain what had happened, but Stone stopped her. “You can fill me in later. We need to get him to the hospital.” Stone put an arm under Reuben’s shoulder and helped him to his feet. He turned to Annabelle. “Stay here and call Harry and make sure he’s okay and then do the same with Caleb. Then join us at Georgetown Hospital.”

“Right.”

Chapman got on the other side of Reuben and the three made their way slowly to Chapman’s car. The ride to the hospital was quick, and while Reuben was being checked out Stone sat in the waiting room with Chapman and Annabelle, who had just gotten there.

“Did you get ahold of them?” asked Stone.

She nodded. “Both okay. Finn is still on assignment. Caleb is at his condo. I told Harry to be extra careful and Caleb to stay put.”

“Good, now tell us what happened in Pennsylvania.”

She explained what had happened in the bar and afterwards. When she gave him the exact location of the attack, Stone hurried off to make a call. When he came back she picked up the story again. “So after I found Reuben we circled back to the highway. Guy in a truck stopped, asked no questions and let us hop in the back. I managed to get the bleeding to stop, but I was afraid Reuben was going to pass out on me. The guy dropped us off at a car rental place. I got us another ride and drove back to D.C. as fast as possible. I wanted to stop and get him medical attention, but he wouldn’t let me. Said we had to get to you. And show you that gun.”

“Did you get a look at any of them?”

Annabelle took a deep breath. “Not really, but one of their trucks flipped over. Some of them have to be hurt or even dead. If you get some people up there to check on it. I gave you the location.”