Resurrection Day (45 page)

'I'm tired, Mommy.'

'I know you are, honey, but this is important. Mommy's got to meet Jack. And you can have some pizza, and a strawberry milkshake. Wouldn't that be nice?'

Nikki stroked Daniel's hair and ushered him into the pizza restaurant on the corner of 10th and E Street. It was way past his bedtime and he was getting grumpy. She'd hated having to take him out with her so late, but she hadn't the heart to ask her mother to miss her bridge game and baby-sit — she'd done that too many times already and didn't want to abuse the favour so instead of taking Daniel straight home she'd bundled him into her car and embarked on the ten-minute ride to the restaurant.

She took a seat by the corner window. When the waitress came, she ordered a coffee for herself and a small cheese-and tomato pizza and milkshake for Daniel, then she diverted him with some crayons and a colouring book she took from his Barney bag.

'How about you show me what you can draw?'

As soon as Daniel was absorbed, scribbling on the pages, she looked towards the FBI Headquarters. Lights blazed in the building across the street, and she noticed several cars coming and going from the underground carpark. It made her think there was more activity than usual for this time of night — just after nine — or was she imagining it?

The district around the Hoover building normally quietened down after rush hour, and the same applied to the local bars and restaurants. She'd met Jack in this restaurant a couple of times during the busy lunch period, but this was the first time she'd ever been here in the evening, and the place was dead, barely half a dozen customers scattered around the tables.

She looked back towards the window. Jack had said he'd meet her at 9.15. For once he wasn't on time, and it was another twenty minutes before she saw the dark blue Ford pull up outside under a streetlamp. Jack was in the front passenger seat. A black man was driving, and there was another guy seated in the back who looked to be in his late thirties, tired faced, with Slavic cheekbones.

She watched Jack slam the door shut and tap the car's roof. The driver manoeuvred out from the kerb, hung a right, and disappeared down 10th Street, moving away past the FBI building.

The men were colleagues of Jack's, that much was obvious. Moments later he entered the restaurant. The first thing Nikki noticed were the dark rings under his eyes. He looked exhausted, pale and spent. She immediately felt guilty for having insisted that he meet her. He spotted her at the table, waved and came over, kissed her on the cheek. 'Nikki — I'm sorry I'm late, and about the last couple of days. I've been up to my eyes.'

He tousled Daniel's hair. 'You're up pretty late, aren't you? How's my cowboy?'

'I's OK, Jack.' Daniel toyed with his pizza, then went back to his crayons, and Nikki saw Jack give her a quizzical look. 'I had to bring him along, Jack. I couldn't get a baby-sitter.'

'That's OK. It's good to see you both.'

'You look dead beat.'

Collins slumped into the seat beside her, nodded, put a hand on hers. 'I'm pretty bushed. What's wrong, Nikki? What's so urgent?'

'Let me get us some coffee, then we'll talk.'

Washington, DC 9.54 p.m.

Tamir drove in the direction of Pennsylvania Avenue. His heart Pounded in his chest, not from fear, but from excitement, yet despite this he felt a strange kind of calm. Death was only minutes away, and as he drove the truck he silently recited his prayers, the lines from the glorious Koran that offered him so much comfort: 'My prayer and my sacrifice and my life and my death are all for Allah. And death will come to him from every quarter, but he will not die.'

Thoughts intruded, of his family in Jeddah. He knew he would not see them again in this life, but this did not matter, and he pushed such earthly thoughts away. He was Tamir Salamah, and he was promised a place in heaven. He turned the truck right, on to Pennsylvania Avenue. Two more blocks and he would reach his destination.

Washington, DC 9.40 p.m.

'I want you to be honest with me about something, Jack. As honest as you can be under the circumstances.'

Nikki watched as Jack sipped the coffee the waitress had brought. He was barely able to keep his eyes open, but she could sense that he was wound up, on edge. He stared back at her, confused by her statement. 'Honest about what, Nikki? What circumstances?'

'I want to ask you something. I know it's going to sound like a weird question, but I don't know how else to put it.' Nikki leaned towards him, touched his arm. 'Jack, is there something going on in this city? Something ... well, that maybe the public are not supposed to know about? That the Feds and maybe other law enforcement agencies want to keep from the public?'

She watched his face for a reaction. He frowned, instantly came awake. Nikki thought: There's definitely a reaction. It was the first time she had ever sensed raw nervousness in Jack, and for a moment he seemed almost frightened. 'What exactly are you talking about, Nikki?'

She looked at his face again. His faded blue eyes narrowed as they regarded her with an unmistakable look of caution. He looked even paler than when he'd stepped into the restaurant. 'It's a simple question, Jack.'

Collins frowned again. 'You've lost me, Nikki.'

'If you can't answer for security reasons or whatever, just say so, Jack, and I'll back off.'

'Nikki, I really don't know what you're getting at. What exactly did you mean when you said "something"?'

Nikki explained about her visit to Reagan, the police exercise, and about the troops near Daniel's playschool. She wondered about mentioning Brad Stelman being followed, but decided not to. 'It all seemed more than suspicious, Jack. I kind of felt like there was some kind of conspiracy going on around me. I know you don't like to talk about your work, and I know it's not my right to ask, but I felt I had to.'

'That's what this is about? It's the only reason why you wanted to meet me tonight?'

'I guess. Apart from telling you I missed you.'

Collins put down his coffee, shook his head. 'Nikki, I don't know what the cops and the army are up to. For that, you'll have to ask them. But you're right about one thing. I don't like to talk about my work. So even if there was something happening and the Feds were in on it, I couldn't say anything. But in this case I'll make an exception. There's nothing major going on that I know of, Nikki. Nothing at all.'

Nikki digested his answer. It seemed that he was telling the truth, but she couldn't be absolutely certain. And the fact that he'd seemed so cautious at first nagged her.

Why is he so cautious?

'Maybe I should be honest here, Jack. You want me to tell you what made me even more suspicious? You've been gone for almost twenty-four hours, without even a call. That's not like you, Jack. You always call. You always let me know you're all right. And when you didn't, it made me wonder if you were involved in what I think's going on. I'm a reporter, remember? And when reporters get feelings like that, they tend to act on them. So I need to get to the bottom of this, Jack. I really do.'

She studied his face. He looked uncomfortable, didn't reply. 'Jack, did you hear what I just said?'

'Yes, I heard.' He avoided looking at her, fell silent again, looked over at Daniel, who was starting to look sleepy as he toyed with his crayons.

'Talk to me, Jack. What's on your mind? Just tell me, and if you want me to keep it to myself, I'll do that.'

Again, he didn't reply. Nikki had never seen him so troubled, as if he were being tortured by something, or trying to fight some anguish deep within himself. And as he looked over at Daniel he seemed on the verge of breaking down. 'Jack ... what's wrong?'

'Noth ... nothing.'

'I don't think that's true, Jack.' She looked into his eyes, said it to his face. 'I think there's something very wrong. Something's worrying you deeply. And I'd like to know the truth.'

Washington, DC 9.57 p.m.

Tamir Salamah turned the truck on to 10th Street. On his right was the massive Hoover building, a sandstone monolith, his target. Fifty yards ahead was the entrance to the FBI's underground carpark. He had placed the briefcase in the back of the truck, in the middle of his deadly cargo. Beside him on the passenger seat was the remote control that would detonate the blast. He picked it up. The battery indicator light glowed red, indicating that it was active. All he needed to do was hit the on-switch and he would be vaporised in the explosion and enter heaven.

He pulled up in front of the Hoover building, rolled down his window and kept the engine running. A sign said: NO STOPPING. Stone bollards lined the kerb, a security measure meant to stop a car bomber from getting too close. But Tamir knew he was close enough. The second he halted the truck he saw two uniformed FBI officers emerge from the underground entrance and cautiously approach him. Their hands were on their pistols by their sides, and when they noticed Tamir's Middle Eastern features one of them spoke, a faint trace of nervousness in his voice. 'Hey, buddy, what you doing here?'

'I have a delivery to make.' Tamir positioned his finger on the remote control switch.

'I don't care what it is you've got to make, it says no stopping. Get this frigging truck out of here, right now. Can't you read the sign?'

'Yes, I can read the sign.' Tamir smiled and hit the switch.

Washington, DC 9.45 p.m.

'Nikki, I know I shouldn't be telling you this, but before I came here to meet you I was at a murder scene out in Maryland.' Collins faltered as he looked at her, wanted to say more, to tell her everything, unburden himself of the terrible secret that was causing him such heartache. Wanted to tell her to get out of DC with Daniel and her mom. And every time he looked over at Daniel's tiny face, watched the boy engrossed with his crayons, the heartache intensified. 'The victims were two kids, teenagers, a couple of years younger than Sean.'

Nikki put a hand to her mouth. 'I ... I'm sorry to hear that.'

'They'd both been machinegunned to death.'

'Who ... who did it?'

A look of pure loathing scoured Collins' face. 'A deranged killer. A lunatic. Someone we've got to catch, and pretty quickly, before he does it again. They've called every available man in on the hunt to find him. But he's no ordinary killer, Nikki, he's — ' Collins faltered again, looked over at the FBI building, at the dozens of blazing lights, and thought about the desperate men and women tolling away inside, wanting to tell wives, husbands, families and loved ones what he wanted to tell Nikki, to leave DC as quickly as possible. But looking at those windows, seeing the burning lights, knowing the kind of dilemma his colleagues were facing, he fought the overwhelming urge to tell her everything, even though it tore at his heart. 'Nikki, I ... I'm sorry. I can't go on with this ... I just can't talk about it ... It's too upsetting. Can you understand that?'

She reached over, put a hand on his, her voice full of concern. 'I understand. Is that the reason you didn't call?'

Collins gave a tired nod.

'You want to come home and rest a while?'

'I can't, Nikki. I've got to get back. I've got work to finish. Then I'll probably flake out at my desk.' Collins leaned forward. 'Look, I've said too much already. I could be in deep trouble simply for telling what I've just told you. Please understand something. It's important we get this guy, and damned quickly. But we've been ordered not to disclose a word about it to the public or press. There's a complete clampdown. And that's the way it's got to stay for now.'

'Why?'

'I can't answer that right now, Nikki. But believe me, it's vital. Any publicity, even just a hint, and you put more lives at risk. You don't want that on your conscience. So I've got to ask you to promise me you won't say a word. And I mean to anyone colleagues, family, whatever. Otherwise I'm in deep trouble, and so are you, and a lot of other people.'

'I promise, Jack.'

Daniel had lost interest in his crayons, and leaned sleepily towards Nikki. 'I's getting tired, Mommy.'

Nikki hugged him close, rubbed his arm. 'It's OK, honey, we're going to leave very soon.'

Collins stroked Daniel's hair, then put his hand on Nikki's arm. 'Soon as I can, we'll take a few days away, you've got my word on that. You, me and Daniel. We could spend some time at the cottage, if you like. You could even head there tomorrow morning, and I'll join you as soon as I get free. Maybe you could even take your mom. It'll be just like the old times for her. What do you say?'

Nikki brightened. 'I'd love to, Jack.'

Collins felt a surge of hope. If he could get Nikki and her family out of DC without tipping his hand, he'd feel relieved. 'Soon as I get done, I'll join you. I promise.'

'But I can't go right now, Jack. I've got my work ... '

'Take time off. Go sick. Whatever. You've been working hard. We both have. We need some time together.'

Nikki patted his hand. 'I know we do. But let's wait until we're both free. You just do what you have to do, Jack. I understand, really I do. And I give you my solemn promise that what you've told me won't go any farther than the two of us.'

Collins felt defeated. He couldn't force her to go Chesapeake. And he'd said too much already. If he pushed the issue any more, Nikki would get suspicious.

Daniel started to yawn again. 'I better go, Jack. Daniel's out of it. He ought to have been in bed long before now.'

'Sure. I'll walk you out.'

They finished their coffee and Collins took Nikki's arm, led her out the door as she held Daniel's hand. As they stepped on to a cold 10th Street, he said, 'You want me to carry Daniel to the car?'

'We'll be fine, Jack, I'm only parked two minutes away.'

'It's no trouble.'

'You better get back to the office. And try and get some sleep. But call me tomorrow if you can, OK?'

As Collins started to reply, he caught sight of a dark-coloured delivery truck parked right in front of the FBI building a hundred yards away across the road. It had halted beside the concrete security bollards. In the well-lit street, he saw two uniformed FBI men approach the truck and talk with the driver.

A split second later there was a tremendous explosion, like a massive clap of thunder, and an agonising pressure that sucked the air from Collins' lungs. The ground shook, and a violent orange flame mushroomed into the air. It seemed to Collins that one minute he was looking at the truck, with Nikki beside him, holding Daniel's hand, and the next thing a powerful blast of scalding-hot wind came hurtling across the street, followed by a wall of angry red flame.

Then there was another explosion as the pressure wave hit the restaurant, shattered the plate-glass windows and blew them off their feet, smothering them all in heat and darkness.

The White House 10.03 p.m.