Saving Faith By: David Baldacci

pistol and pointed it at the door as he turned the knob. He didn’t

really believe that anyone had locked himself in a closet and was about

to jump him, but then again, he had seen stranger things happen.

Someone might be on the other side of this door.

When he saw what was in the closet, a part of him wished the problem

were as simple as someone preparing to ambush him. He swore under his

breath, holstered his pistol and ran.

In the closet the blink of red lights from the stacks of electronic

equipment shone forth now in the open doorway.

Lee raced into the other front room and shone his light around the

walls in even patterns, moving higher and higher. Then he saw it.

There was a camera lens in the wall next to the molding. Probably a

pinhole lens, designed specifically for covert surveillance. It was

impossible to see in the poor lighting, but the beam from the

flashlight was reflecting off it. As he moved the beam around, he hit

a total of four camera lenses.

Holy shit. The sound he had heard earlier. He must have tripped some

device that had triggered the cameras. He raced back to the living

room closet, flashed his light on the front of the video machine.

Eject! Where the hell was eject? He found the button, hit it and

nothing happened. He punched it again and again. He hit the other

buttons. Nothing. Then Lee’s gaze closed on the second small infrared

portal in the front of the machine, and the answer hit him. The

machine was controlled by a special remote, its function buttons

overridden. His blood ran cold with the possibilities this sort of

arrangement suggested. He thought about putting a bullet into the

thing, to make it cough up the precious tape. But for all he knew, the

damn thing was armored and he’d end up eating his own slug off the

ricochet. And what if it had a real-time satellite link and the tape

was only a backup? Was there a camera in here? People could be

looking at him right now. For one ridiculous second, he thought about

giving them the finger.

Lee was about to run again but then had a sudden inspiration. He

fumbled in his knapsack, his usually steady fingers now not quite so

dexterous. His hands closed around the small case. He whipped it out,

fought with the lid for an instant and then managed to pull out the

small but powerful magnet.

Magnets were a popular burglary tool because they were ideal for

locating and popping window pins once you had cut through the glass.

Otherwise, the pins would defeat the most accomplished burglar. Now

the magnet would play the reverse role: not helping him break in, but

rather assisting him in making what he hoped would be an invisible

exit.

He palmed the magnet and then ran it in front of the video machine and

then over the top. He did it as many times as he could in the one

minute he had allowed himself before fleeing for his life. He prayed

that the magnetic field would obliterate the images on the tape. His

images.

He threw the magnet back in his bag, turned and ran for the door.

God only knew who might be on their way here. Lee suddenly stopped.

Should he go back to the closet, rip the VCR out and take it with

him?

The next sound Lee heard drove all thoughts of the VCR from his mind. A

car was coming.

“Sonofabitch!” hissed Lee. Was it Lockhart and her escort? They had

come here every other evening. So much for a pattern. He raced back

down the hall, threw open the back door, burst through and hurdled the

concrete stoop. He landed heavily in the slick grass, his shoeless

feet slipped and he fell hard. The impact knocked the breath out of

him and he felt a sharp pain where his elbow had struck at an odd

angle. But fear was a great painkiller. Within a few seconds he was

up and chugging for the tree line.

He was halfway to the woods when the car pulled into the driveway, its

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