The Athena Factor Read Online Free PDF Page B

at Lymon. “You’ve always told me that security wasn’t a positive thing. That you could only lessen the odds.”
    Lymon nodded. “Just as with any system, there’s always a way to beat it. Doing it, however, generally takes skill, money, power, luck, or some combination of them.”
    Sheela studied him thoughtfully. “Which of those do you think was responsible for what happened in New York?”
    Lymon sipped his coffee, considering. “Luck is out. My guess is that we’re looking at skill and money.”
    â€œWhy?” Rex demanded.
    â€œIt was well planned, which means the guy wasn’t counting on luck. The Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives controls the sale of flash-bangs to military and police only. This guy had a CTS 7290. He didn’t buy it on the corner of Twenty-second and Park Avenue. It took money to get that uniform. He didn’t just lift it out of some guy’s locker at the hotel. So, where’d he get it? Bribe someone in the laundry? Was it even real? Or did some tailor in Midtown make it based on photos of the real thing? Where did he get the key to the storeroom? The hotel ran inventory. None of their five keys for that room are unaccounted for. So, how did the guy know which key opened that door?”
    â€œYou’re sure he didn’t pick the lock?” Felix asked.

    Lymon shook his head. “I watched him on the tape, Felix. You could see him reach down, insert it, and turn. It had to be a key. And the guy was cool. He didn’t even look up at the camera. He knew he was being recorded, and not once did we get a full facial shot. During the attack his back is toward the camera. Afterward, he runs with his head down and tilted, sort of like a charging bull. Like I said: a pro.”
    â€œI don’t like it,” Rex added. “Thank God Sheela’s safe.”
    â€œI want to know why,” Sheela added, looking straight at Lymon. “Can you find out?”
    Lymon carefully replaced his coffee cup. “Honestly, Sheela, I can try, but I can’t promise anything.”
    â€œYou have connections, don’t you?”
    â€œYeah, sure. But those things cost—”
    â€œI don’t care.” She used her screen presence, that commanding alto that had carried her to top billing on the marquis. “ Find out! ”
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    Sid Harness loosened his tie as he followed the hostess to a table in the back. He liked the Old Ebbitt Grill. The place had atmosphere. He glanced at the brown marble columns on the back bar with their golden chapiters. The stuffed African game heads glared down with fierce glass eyes. Dark wood trim accented the white panels, and the frosted glass dividers seemed to glow with an internal light. The effect was accented by real gas lamps that illuminated historical paintings of the Republic.
    From old habit, he took inventory of the occupants: several prominent Washington reporters, one of the Congressmen from Ohio with several of his staff members, a basketball star with not one but two fawning blondes at his table. The usual eclectic Washington bunch.
    The waitress led Sid to a booth on the back wall, a semiprivate affair done in red leather with high seats. He slid onto the cushions across from Christal Anaya, took the menu, and smiled his thanks as the hostess retreated.
    â€œSorry I’m late.”

    Christal arched a thin eyebrow as she studied him from across the table. “If this had been anyplace but the Old Ebbitt Grill, I’d have left a long time ago.”
    â€œDevelopment on a case,” Sid muttered, and preempted the young man who came to ask if he’d like anything to drink. “A Foggy Bottom ale, please.” Sid looked a question at Christal.
    She placed a hand over the melted ice in her glass. “I’ve had enough for now.”
    After the young man left, Sid cocked his head, watching Christal watch him. God, she was