TOTAL CONTROL By: David Baldacci

Charlie started out the door and then turned back. “Oh, it might help

avoid confusion in the future if you let me know you’re still around.”

He touched his sidearm. “We don’t want no unfortunate accidents, you

know?” Rowe went pale at the sight of the gun.

“You hear any more noises, you come get me, okay, Mr. Rowe?”

After Charlie turned away, he broke out in a broad smile.

Rowe stood at the doorway for a minute longer, thinking intently.

Then he turned and went back into the office.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Lee Sawyer eyed the small three-story apartment building, which was

located about five miles from Dulles International Airport. Residents

enjoyed a complete fitness center, Olympic-size pool and Jacuzzi, and

huge party room. It was home to mostly young single professionals who

got up early to make the traffic-stifling trek into downtown. The

parking lot was littered with low-end Beemers, Saabs and the occasional

Porsche.

Sawyer was interested in only one of the occupants of this community.

He was not a young lawyer, marketing executive or holder of an MBA.

Sawyer briefly spoke into his walkie-talkie. Three other agents were

seated in the sedan with him. Stationed around the area were five other

teams of FBI agents. A black-clad squadron of the elite FBI Hostage

Rescue Team (HRT) was also zeroing in on Sawyer’s target. A battalion

of local authorities was backing up the federal lawmen. A lot of

innocent people were around, and great pains were being taken to ensure

that if anyone was going to get hurt, it would be only the man whom

Sawyer believed had already killed almost two hundred people.

Sawyer’s plan of attack was textbook FBI. Bring overwhelming force to a

completely unsuspecting target, force so overpowering, in a situation so

totally controlled, that resistance was useless. Controlling the

situation completely meant you could control the outcome too. Or so the

theory went.

Every agent carried a 9mm semiautomatic pistol with extra clips.

Each team of agents also had one member with an appropriately named

Franchi Law-12 semiautomatic shotgun and another member sporting a Colt

assault rifle. The HRT members all carried heavy-caliber automatic

weapons, most with electronic laser sights.

Sawyer gave the signal to move in and the teams moved forward.

In less than one minute members of the HRT had reached the door of

apartment number 321. Two other teams covered the only other possible

escape, the two back windows of the apartment that overlooked the pool

area. Snipers had already set up there, their laser sights fixed

immovably on the twin apertures. After listening intently at the door

of 321 for a few seconds, the HRT members exploded through the opening.

No gunfire disturbed the peaceful stillness of the night. Within a

minute, Sawyer received the all-clear signal. He and his men hurried up

the. stairs of the apartment building.

Sawyer was met by the leader of the HRT.

“Nest empty?” Sawyer asked.

The HRT man shook his head. “Might as well be. Someone beat us to it.”

He jerked his head in the direction of the small bedroom at the rear of

the apartment.

Sawyer walked quickly back there. A shiver hit him right between the

shoulder blades; the place was like the insides of a freezer.

The overhead light in the bedroom was on. Three HRT members looked down

at the small space between the bed and the wall.

Sawyer followed their gaze and his spirits sank.

The man was lying face down. Multiple gunshot wounds in the back and

head were plainly visible; so were the firearm and the twelve pieces of

brass that littered the floor. Sawyer, with the aid of two HRT members,

carefully lifted the body, turning it sideways before returning it

exactly to the spot where it had been before.

Sawyer rose, shaking his head. He barked into his walkie-talkie.

“Tell the state guys to get a medical examiner out here and I want the

forensics team here yesterday.”

Sawyer looked down at the body. Well, at least the guy wouldn’t be

sabotaging any more planes, although a full clip into his body didn’t

seem like nearly enough punishment for what the sonofabitch had done.

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