hoped she was. Buchanan, they had been told, might be there as well.
They would take those two over Adams. He could wait. They would
eventually get him. In fact, they would not stop until they got him.
Each team member was equipped with an automatic pistol and a knife
specially designed to take out the carotid in one efficient stroke.
Each man was well skilled in exactly how to execute just such a lethal
blow. Their orders were clear. Everyone in the house had to die.
Perfectly executed, it could be a clean operation. They could be back
in Washington by late morning.
They were proud men, professionals in their own right and long in the
service of Robert Thornhill. As a team they had survived some
dangerous times in the last twenty years with their wit, skill,
physical strength and stamina. They had saved lives, made certain
parts of the world safer, helped to ensure that the United States would
become the world’s sole remaining superpower. This would mean a
fairer, more just world for many. Like Robert Thornhill, they had
joined the Agency to perform a service, to engage in a public trust. To
them, there was no higher calling.
All three men were also part of the group Lee and Faith had eluded at
Adams’s apartment. The episode had embarrassed them, tarnishing their
reputation for near perfection. They had been hoping for a shot at
redemption, and now they did not intend to waste it.
One man stayed near the top of the stairs to keep watch, while the
other two hurried down the boardwalk to the rear of the house. The
plan was simple, direct, unencumbered by layers of detail. They would
hit the house hard and fast, starting on the ground floor and moving
up. When they ran into anyone, they wouldn’t ask questions or seek
identification. Their suppressor-equipped pistols would fire one time
for each victim, and then they would move on until every living thing
in the house no longer was. Yes, it was definitely conceivable they
could be back in Washington before lunch.
CHAPTER 51
LEE SLOWED DOWN THE HONDA AND THEN STOPPED in the middle of the road,
his feet coming down lightly on the asphalt. He looked back over his
shoulder. The street was long, black and empty. Daylight would be
coming soon, though. He could see it in the softening edges of the
sky, like the streaked edges of a Polaroid slowly lapping to
vibrancy.
So why couldn’t he have waited? He could have stayed until the car
came to take Faith and Buchanan to the airstrip. It would only delay
his trip to Charlottesville by a couple of hours at most. And it would
certainly increase his peace of mind. Why the hell was he running away
so fast? Renee was protected. What about Faith?
His gloved hand tapped against the Honda’s throttle. It would also
give him a chance to talk to the woman, to let Faith know that he cared
very much for her.
He turned the Honda around and headed back. When he reached the
street, he slowed the bike. The car was parked at the far end of the
street. It was a big sedan that just screamed federal government.
True, it was at the opposite end of the street and he wouldn’t have
passed it heading to the main road, but how the hell had his “expert”
eyes missed that? God, was he really getting that old?
He drove directly at the car, figuring that if it was the Feds, he
could cut off easily enough and lose them. As he drew closer, however,
it was clear the car was empty. Starting to panic, he swung the Honda
around, rode up into the driveway of the beach house two lots down from
Faith’s and jumped off. Throwing down his helmet and pulling his
pistol, Lee raced around to the rear courtyard of the house and then on
to the boardwalk that crisscrossed the rear common areas connecting all
the houses to the main steps going to the beach, like human veins
leading to the heart’s arteries. His own heart was pumping at a