Gabe (In the Company of Snipers, #8)(100)
Chapter Thirty
She wanted to cry.
Shelby left messages on her parents’ phone as well as her brother’s, frustrated she couldn’t talk to them in person. Gabe’s friends had barely taken time to arrange for their own families’ safety before gathering around Mark in tight military formation. Gabe wanted her to leave too, but she’d flatly refused. If he was staying, so was she.
Mark had sent Shelby an evil, arched brow when he’d first spotted her in his territory, but he seemed okay with her now. Maybe because there wasn’t enough time to argue, not if the bomb was really going off tonight.
A couple agents were at their workstations, but everyone else stood at the wall-sized map of Washington D.C., studying it for centralized locations where Fallon might place a dirty bomb for maximum impact. There were so many. Constitution Avenue alone provided a wealth of possibilities, running as close to the White House as it did.
From what Shelby knew, the building was an armed fortress complete with snipers on the rooftop and the ever-present Secret Service lurking in every shadow and behind every column. In no way could anyone get close to President Adams.
Getting within range of any other federal building was just as difficult. The bombing of the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building in Oklahoma City in 1995 made certain of that. Concrete barriers and balustrades prevented vehicular access everywhere.
“Why kill the Vice President?” Shelby whispered to Gabe. “That doesn’t make sense. Why not the President?”
He shrugged. “Why do any terrorists do anything they do? It’s all about power. Fallon must have a reason for wanting Winston instead of Adams. He doesn’t have to plant his bomb close to his target to make his point, whatever that is. Hell, we don’t even know if it’s in a vehicle.”
“But a vehicle makes sense. A bomb would be easier to relocate on wheels,” Mark said, his index finger tapping the location of the White House on the map.
Shelby winced, still not sure she had any business standing with Gabe’s team and listening in, much less offering her opinion or asking questions. No one seemed to mind, though, so she stayed close to Gabe.
“You do know a dirty bomb isn’t an effective weapon of mass destruction,” the Chinese-looking man added.
“True, but any bomb in D.C. will be devastating, David,” Mark said. “It’s summer. Tourists are everywhere. Congressmen and women. Ambassadors. Dignitaries.” His index finger slid across the map to the Mall. “Hell, the Veterans of Foreign Wars is holding a service at the World War II Memorial this coming weekend. Thousands of people will already be there. The vets’ families. Friends. Ember—”
“I’m on it,” she said, already headed out the door. “I’ll check the VP’s schedule, see if he’s supposed to present anything tonight before the VFW service. The President’s schedule, too.”
“Yes, but Mark, Chaos Now wants a revolution, not just a crater in the middle of D.C. They want mass terror for an extended period of time,” David said, his eyes fixed on the map as well.
“Right,” Gabe intervened. “It’s the long-term effects these guys are looking for. Public fear. Radiation poisoning. That’s what this is really about.”
“Who stands to benefit?” Mark asked quietly.
“Who else? Fallon,” one of Gabe’s fellow agents, the tall guy with dark hair and deep blue eyes, answered. “We’ve linked him to Kelsey’s attempted murder.”
“True, but I’m afraid I agree with Benson. Fallon’s not the mastermind. Then who is?”
And there the conversation stalled.
Shelby analyzed the problem along with everyone else. Until her car had exploded, she hadn’t thought anything could happen to her—certainly nothing like this. Her life had been orderly and controllable because she made certain it was. She’d double-checked everything. Played it safe. Never took chances.
“You know, when this all started, I thought maybe Fallon was just one of those malcontents who needed to destroy everything related to Alex,” Gabe said, his gaze riveted to the map, his arms crossed over his chest and his right hand cupping his chin. “Like the cold-blooded law of the wild. Eliminate everything dear to the man you hate. Murder his wife. Kill his children. Burn his house to the ground, preferably while he watched. But no more.”
He shifted closer to the map. “You’re right, Mark. Fallon’s nothing but a cold-blooded bastard like Charlie Oakes. He’s the go-to guy to get the dirty jobs done, but he’s not the brains. Someone more powerful has gotten hold of him and his goons. Someone with a plan we haven’t uncovered yet.”
“Correct,” David agreed, “and that someone has the means to facilitate an attack on the country.”
“And we still don’t know who it is,” Mark muttered.
Shelby shuddered. These people should be on their way out of Washington D.C., too, yet there they were, crazy enough to think they could stand between good and evil. Gabe’s arm snaked around her waist, and oh, yeah. I’m in the company of snipers. That’s what heroes do. They jump in over their heads without thinking. They save people—like me.
“So what now?” she asked, half-afraid to ask.
“Now we do what we do best,” Gabe said. “We find Fallon and hope he leads us to his Maker. Come with me.”