Designated Survivor (18 page)

“Sounds like everyone is on the move,” Grace said. “If you can, follow the van and keep us updated. We’re tracking the Explorer. If you even begin to feel like they’ve spotted you, abort and get the hell out of there as fast as you can.” he hung up.

“So we have at least eight terrorists driving around Washington DC right now,” Arrington said. “With no idea what they’re planning.”

“I call that job security,” Grace said. “And I don’t want to be sitting here if something goes down. Ben, get on comms. We’re going mobile in the van.” He turned to leave the workroom.

“Hey,” Arrington said. “I’m coming with you.”

“Nope. Can’t put you in a situation that might turn dangerous,” Grace said. “You should get back to Herndon.”

“It wasn’t a request,” Arrington said. “You’re in charge. I just want to be there.”

Grace turned and looked at him. The man’s black suit was tailored to fit perfectly. “Then you’d better change. Hit Holden’s locker, you’re about the same size.”

The van left ten minutes later with Avery at the wheel and Corbin beside him. In the back sat Grace, Levi and Netty on the first row. Behind them Derek Arrington sat in green combat pants, shirt and bulletproof vest with his two security agents sitting on either side of him in their black suits.

“Well, this is fun,” Grace said. He turned in his seat to talk to the men behind him. “If anything goes down, you three stay back. I don’t care what your training was—this isn’t what it was for. You two stay with him,” he pointed at Arrington. “And keep him safe. Anything happens to him and I’m coming after you.”

“I know how to handle myself,” Arrington said.

“I’m not saying you can’t. I’m saying you’re not going to have to handle yourself on my watch,” Grace said. “This is self-preservation. I don’t want to break in a new boss.”

CHAPTER 32

Avery listened to Ben over his earpiece and worked the van through the city to get within two blocks of the moving Ford Explorer. After the event that took the life of Chip Goodson he had no intention of putting the large black van where it could be spotted and targeted. Netty and Holden were staying well behind the work van, which was on a different route than the Explorer but headed the same direction.

“They’re going to converge somewhere,” Grace said. “And I’ll bet you it’s the target. No other reason to put them all in the open at once.”

Ben’s voice came through the earpieces they each wore. “The Explorer stopped on Connecticut. Netty reports the work van is on Beach Drive. They’re on opposite ends of the zoo.”

“Weird time for sightseeing,” Grace said. “Avery, cut down Cathedral.”

“The Explorer is on the go again,” Ben said. “Traffic camera at the crosswalk showed two men exiting the vehicle and walking towards the zoo entrance.”

The van turned sharply as Grace checked his pistol then grabbed a Seattle Seahawks jacket from below the seat and pulled it on over his bulletproof vest and zipped it up.

“Seahawks?” Arrington said.

“Yeah. Nobody pays attention to a Seahawks fan,” Grace said. “If I wear a Redskins jacket then I look like a local. I wear a Cowboys jacket and I just look like an asshole.”

Avery turned left and pointed the black van into a no parking zone as Grace jumped out the side door. “Stay moving but nearby.” And he turned and jogged towards the zoo.

“What’s he going to do without backup?” Arrington said.

“How long have you known Grace?” Avery said.

Grace slowed to a quick walk as he entered the zoo and watched the tourists ahead of him for signs of Arash Abbasi. Even in the middle of winter the free attraction brought in plenty of foot traffic during the day, which gave him enough people to blend into, but also made it harder to find someone.

“Grace, Netty said two men got out of the van at the other end of the zoo and are headed in,” Ben said. “According to the tracker, one of them is Khouri.”

“Thanks,” Grace said.

“He knows what you look like,” Avery’s voice came through.

“Yeah, I know,” Grace said. “The more the merrier. It’s easier to spot four grown men walking around the zoo together than two and at least we have the location of one of them. Just keep an eye on the tracker.”

“I can be there in three minutes,” Avery said.

“No, you stay with the van and Arrington. I don’t want to draw any added attention,” Grace said. Ahead of him he saw two men disappear around the bend in the main walkway of the National Zoo. “I think I have visual.” He went into a jog to close the distance since he knew the two men couldn’t see him.

He got to the bend and regained a sightline to the two men and fell in 50 feet behind them, ready to stop if they turned to check if they were being followed. As he passed the next trash can he paused and looked in and pulled out a zoo map a tourist had thrown away then continued walking while holding the map in front of him.

Anyone paying attention would notice the two men walking along Olmsted Walk through the zoo without ever stopping to see any of the animal enclosures along the way. But everyone else there was too busy watching the zebras and elephants to see Arash Abbasi and his fellow terrorist. Grace kept up with them and closed the distance to thirty feet just as the two men made a left down one of the trails off the main route.

“Ben, where’s Khouri now?”

“Still showing him standing still at the entrance to the zoo,” Ben said.

“Good. Let me know if he moves,” Grace said.

Abassi and the other man turned right onto the sidewalk that led into the great cats exhibit, the only entrance and exit for that area. Grace moved forward quickly to see which way they went around the circle then followed them to the left. He was now 20 feet behind them and stopped at each enclosure to lean on the railing and look at the lions and tigers as they were sleeping among the trees, showing no interest in entertaining the visitors. He would glance at the animals then to his left and keep moving.

More than halfway around the circle he saw the two men step into the small cat-themed café. Grace kept going to get to the corner just as they stopped at a table where a man wearing a hat sat with his back towards the entrance.

“Hey, asshole.”

Grace turned at the voice behind him to see Efraim Khouri and another man standing there. The other man grabbed Grace’s left arm as Khouri took his right and turned him away from where Abbasi was and walked him back the way he’d come. A hand went up inside his Seahawks jacket and pulled the Glock from its holster. He felt the barrel of the gun jam into his ribs.

“Come on, guys. I just wanted to see the tigers,” Grace said. He struggled to keep his feet under him as they dragged him. A few tourists slowed down to look then kept moving.

“Trust me. You’re gonna see the tigers. Shoulda killed me when you had the chance,” Khouri said.

The man shoved Grace against the low wall of the tiger enclosure. A metal and wire screen was built up over the cement wall to avoid having people fall into the animal’s area as had happened at several zoos around the country.

Khouri pulled Grace’s hands behind his back as the other man grabbed his feet and they raised his 190 pound body and dead lifted it to head level then pushed him over the top of the screen. Grace grabbed the wire with his left hand as he fell, his feet dangling 15 feet above the water that separated the wall from the tiger’s home. Khouri began to walk away and Grace noticed he wasn’t wearing shoes, his thick grey socks dirty from the asphalt paths within the park.

The other man still stood facing him and pulled a knife from his pocket and jammed the point of the large blade into the back of Grace’s hand. His fingers opened and Grace fell down into the dirty, freezing water. It was deeper than he could stand up in and his clothes and jacket were quickly absorbing water and pulling him down. He pulled the jacket off then swam the dozen feet to the cement edge and pulled himself out of the water and rotated to sit on the bank just as he heard the first scream.

Looking up he saw the woman through the screen pointing behind him. He didn’t have to turn to know what was happening. The four large tigers that lived in the enclosure had finally found something of enough interest to raise them from their 16 hours of daily sleep. Each of the great animals slowly climbed to their feet and looked down from the top of the three tiers at the new arrival in their private space.

Grace had faced down countless men with guns aimed at him, jumped out of airplanes and had once run across the border from Iran into Turkey with 20 members of the Armed Forces of the Islamic Republic of Iran chasing and shooting at him. But he’d never faced down an adult tiger.

He reached down and pulled his right pants leg up and retrieved the small backup Glock G26 he kept strapped to his ankle almost every minute he was awake, barring showers and the occasional tryst with a willing woman. As he turned to face the cats he pulled the slide back to load the first of fifteen bullets. Three of the animals were still on the top level, but the largest one had jumped down to the middle tier and was eyeing him from no more than twenty-five feet away, its giant tongue licking its lips.

Grace raised the gun and aimed it at the majestic creature; not wanting to take its life but valuing his own life more. He wondered how much effect the nine-millimeter would have on the large beast and if he’d have time to get enough shots off before it could jump the short distance to him. They stayed there, locked in the moment of who would flinch first, survival of the fittest at its purest. He knew he would have barely two seconds to react before the animal’s teeth would find their way into his body. His finger was still stretched out on the trigger guard although he knew the threat was imminent. These animals had been raised in captivity, but their DNA still had the encoding for being killers. He felt he might possibly be able to take one down, but the other three cats were now moving to the edge of the top tier.

They stared at each other in a primal game of chicken, one where one loser might possibly be eaten. Their moment ended and the cat jumped down to his level of the enclosure in a smooth motion, defying its 450 pound weight. The distance was down to 20 feet and closing quickly.

Grace hesitated on the trigger until he knew he couldn’t wait any longer. As his finger moved from the guard to the trigger he heard what sounded like a series of silenced pistol fires from behind him and the tiger stopped, its eyes still locked with his, then its back legs gave way forcing it to sit down then its front legs buckled. Finally the large head dropped to the ground, the large eyes still trying to focus on its prey until the eyelids drooped down and closed.

Grace looked up at the other three cats, his gun following his gaze, to see them retreating to the far corner of the top tier. He then turned around and saw two park employees with tranquilizer rifles aimed through the mesh fence. They fired again, bringing two more of the beasts to their knees.

CHAPTER 33

In the commotion at the tiger enclosure next to the café, Arash Abbasi carried out his short but tense meeting with his client. As predicted, there was more work requested and his demand for more money was met first with laughter. He held firm, staring the client in the eyes without saying another word. The client’s hands finally rose in agreement. The outcome meant more than the money.

Abbasi stood and walked away, out of the great cat exhibit and exited from the near end of the zoo. The work van pulled up and he climbed in the back and slid the door closed as it pulled away.

Grace was sitting in the zoo security office with half a dozen guards lining the walls while two District of Columbia police officers questioned him about how he came to be inside the tiger enclosure and why he had a gun with him. He gave them as little information as he could while still trying to be helpful. When the cops changed positions for the third time, the smaller of the two men taking over the questioning again, the door opened and another officer walked in, spoke quietly to the men, then left.  Not sure what had happened or who the man they were questioning really was, they simply told him he was free to go and handed him back his gun and the radio unit that powered his earpiece.

Once clear of the security office he turned on the radio. “Where are you?”

“Take a left, we’re on the street outside the main entrance,” Avery said.

Grace followed the directions and found the black Mercedes Sprinter and climbed in the back, avoiding looking his boss in the eyes. Avery put the van in gear and pulled into traffic.

“I’m guessing that was you?” Grace said.

“Uh huh,” Arrington said.

“Thanks,” Grace said. “We have any eyes on them?”

“The Explorer was dumped,” Avery said.

“Of course it was,” Grace said.

“Netty followed the work van until it ran a red light,” Avery said. “She caught up with it four blocks later, abandoned on a side street.”

“Perfect day to have your boss riding along with you.”

CHAPTER 34

The afternoon sun had warmed the air to the low thirties, enough for kids to be out on the playground, climbing the structures and creating new games by the minute. First they were mountain climbers, summiting the highest peaks. In the blink of an eye they were in a battle with invisible warriors, swinging their arms around in swordplay.

Next to the playground were three new soccer fields with games being played by corporate teams, likely including the parents of some of the children on the playground. The neon colored uniforms of local business teams competed for not much more than the benefit of knowing they’d played.

Arash Abbasi sat on the metal bench inside the playground fence, watching the children play. There were enough parents around that he didn’t stand out. A newspaper was folded beside him and he drank coffee from the closest Starbucks, barely stomaching the acidic fluid only to blend in. The game had changed again as his mind wandered; now the boys were spinning the small merry-go-round as fast as they could with two girls sitting in the middle.