The Ajax Protocol-7 Read Online Free PDF Page A

to kill him.
    Flowers and notes were piling up in heaps at the barriers in front of the White House. The information that Rice had been the target of an assassination attempt was being kept from the public. The Secret Service, the FBI and the others had no leads.
    No one said a word as Elizabeth told them about the attempt to kill her. From where he sat, Nick could see the charred remains of the helicopter in the flower beds outside. Someone had just upped the ante, but they didn't know the name of the game or who was playing.
    "No one called from Bethesda," Elizabeth said. "Rice wasn't asking to speak with me. It was a set up."
    Nick said, "Remind me not to get you mad at me. Hard to believe you shot that down with a pistol." He gestured out the windows at the wreckage.
    Everyone looked at the ruins of the helicopter. It wasn't something you saw every day.
    "I was mad." Harker picked up her Mont Blanc and began tapping on the desk.
    "That's my point."
    "What happens to that wreck out there?" Ronnie asked.
    "Hood will handle it."
    "Any ID on the phony agent you killed?"
    "Former FBI, kicked out a few years ago. He was suspected of compromising an important investigation. There was nothing they could charge him with at the time, but they let him go."
    "Why send a chopper?"
    "I think they wanted to kidnap me. If they couldn't do that, then kill me."
    "What's the status of the president?" Selena asked. She wore a pale blue silk blouse that offset the violet of her eyes.
    "He's alive, but he's out of commission for a while. Vice President Edmonds has taken over. He won't be sworn in unless Rice dies or is declared unable to perform."
    "That could be a problem," Nick said. "Edmonds doesn't like us."
    "I don't like him either, but we have to deal with it. Edmonds thinks we're a bunch of loose cannons. We're not going to get any cooperation from the White House as long as he's sitting in the big chair."
    "Are we going to try and find out who went after Rice?" Selena asked.
    "Plenty of people are looking at that. For now they can deal with it. I'm more concerned with why someone came after me. Why me? Whoever it is knew my private number and knew I'd have to respond to a summons from Rice. There aren't many who have that number. Which I'm changing, by the way."
    Ronnie rubbed a knuckle across his nose. "Someone's playing hardball."
    "They've got to be well financed and well organized," Nick said. He gestured out the window at the wreckage. "That's an expensive pile of junk out there."
    Elizabeth set her pen down. "That doesn't narrow things down much.,"
    Nick tugged on his ear. "Who knows how to reach you?"
    "The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs. Hood. The President. The Director of National Intelligence. The Director of the NSA."
    "Don't forget the Russians," Nick said. "Vysotsky has it."
    "He's more subtle than that," Harker said. "It's not his style."
    "What about Edmonds?" Selena asked.
    Harker gave her an odd look. "That's an evil thought, Selena. He doesn't like me and he'd be happy if I was out of the picture, but I don't think he wants me dead."
    "Somebody does."
    "Well," Elizabeth said, "If they want it badly enough, they'll try again."
    "What's next?" Nick asked.
    "I'll try and track down the helicopter," Stephanie said. "We might be able to find out who owns it and where it came from." She twisted the gold bracelets around her wrist. She did that when she was tense.
    Elizabeth looked at them. "All of us may be targets. I don't want to go into lockdown but everyone needs to be careful."
    "What else is new?" Ronnie said.
     

 
    CHAPTER 9
     
     
    The kitchen of Nick's Washington apartment was a comfortable place, big enough for a table and four chairs. It was set off from the living area by a wide counter that did double duty as a bar. A Paul Klee reproduction hung over a Danish modern couch in the living room. Nick liked the clean, uncluttered look of European furniture, just as he really liked Klee's paintings. A genuine Klee