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“We’ve got only twenty-nine minutes,” he says to Colonel Kendricks.
Her smile is full of love and confidence. “No worries, sir. Soon enough, the way will be clear.”
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After making thetwo necessary phone calls—one lasting under a minute, the other lasting much longer—Ned Mahoney says, “Time to move, John.”
John says, “Give me a second.”
“You got it,” Ned says. “I’ll start my car. You come out when you’re ready.”
John kneels down by the couch, takes Elizabeth’s hand, and stares at her bandaged head.
Ned goes through the large kitchen and out the side entrance. He hears a heavy knocking on the front door and sees two DC Metro Police officers standing there.
He turns to go back into the house but it’s too late—he’s been spotted.
“Agent Mahoney,” one cop calls out. “We see you there. We need to talk to you. Now.”
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Back in theday, Sylvester had been an army specialist driving heavy fuel trucks to and from Baghdad. Your butt was always tense then because you were waiting for an IED to tear through you and turn you into a crispy critter, but driving the truck today is worse, much worse, he thinks.
They’re heading down Pennsylvania Avenue and traffic is stop-and-go as they merge onto Washington Circle.
He looks at the dashboard clock. Twenty-five minutes left to get into position, and he doubts they will make it.
His passenger, Casey, says, “What’s bugging you?”
“What the fuck do you think?” he asks. “We’re not going to get to the rendezvous point in time. And that’ll throw the whole schedule off.”
Casey says, “Told you we should have left earlier.”
“Go to hell.”
Casey laughs. “Man, say a prayer. You gotta believe.”
“In what?”
“In miracles.”
Sylvester is about to tell Casey where he can shove his miracles when he hears the distant howl of sirens.
The sirens grow louder, and in his rearview and side-view mirrors he sees a line of DC Metro Police cruisers coming their way, with a cruiser peeling off at each intersection, blocking traffic.
Casey says, “Okay, maybe not a miracle from God, but how about one from the DC police?”
Sylvester checks the clock once more. The tight feeling across his chest eases.
“I’ll take it,” he says.
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