10th May
Paul/Swan and Robin closed the door of their guest quarters in the White House.
It had been five days since they had met with the president. Since then, they had met on several further occasions with Charlotte Goldman. That had allowed closer analysis of the intelligence known to both sides.
No major new revelations had emerged, however. Also, there had been no attempt to approach, abduct or harm Paul, in his guise as Swan, despite both of them spending periods outside the security of the White House.
Robin checked his mobile. ‘Our flights are booked for this evening, Swan,’ he said. ‘There isn’t any purpose in us staying here any longer.’
‘It’s been useful, though,’ Paul/Swan replied. ‘At least we know we can rely on the president and his closest aides. Any news from England?’
‘I’ve got a message from Joan,’ said Robin. ‘It appears that they’re not getting very far. They’ve no idea where Leadbetter is nor that craft he took from Area 51, and Arkangel is as anonymous as ever.’
‘Charlotte was taking a lot of interest in those UFO sightings in England,’ said Paul/Swan, ‘particularly the report about Forrester being abducted. She thinks that their craft is involved.’
‘She may well be right,’ Robin replied, ‘and it may be that Leadbetter is adding to his collection of bishops. We won’t know that for sure until we catch up with Leadbetter. If the Americans can’t locate their own secret aircraft, I don’t know how they expect us to.’
Paul looked out of the window. ‘It’s our last day here, the weather’s good and we’ve got nothing better to do. How do you feel about a walk around Washington?’
‘OK,’ said Robin, ‘let’s go.’
~*~*~*~*~
Twenty minutes later they were walking along the lakeside through Constitution Gardens towards the Lincoln Memorial.
‘They’ve got the starcruiser as well as Leadbetter,’ whispered Robin when he believed that they were far enough away from anyone who might have listening equipment. ‘Joan sent another encrypted message.’
‘It’s hard work having to keep-up that fictional dialogue whenever we’re anywhere susceptible to surveillance,’ said Paul/Swan quietly.
‘Let’s hope it’s convinced anyone who’s eavesdropping that they know everything we know,’ Robin replied, ‘and that it has reinforced your identity as Swan. By the way,’ he added, ‘they’ve got a name for Arkangel too.’
Suddenly, Paul/Swan fell backwards onto the grass. Robin turned and crouched over him. He could see the mark of a bullet in the middle of the front of Paul/Swan’s coat. ‘Are you OK?’ said Robin urgently.
‘I think so,’ said Paul. ‘I guess that was a bullet and that the shooter is pretty good. I felt the impact right in the middle of my chest.’ He exhaled as if in relief. ‘Kevlar’s amazing stuff.’
‘Stay down and pretend you’re dead,’ said Robin, looking in the approximate direction from which the bullet must have come. ‘The gunman could have been hiding in the trees on the other side of the lake.’ That’s impossible, thought Robin as he inspected their surroundings more closely. This is a public park with widely spaced trees and lots of people on the paths. Someone with a rifle couldn’t hide.
Then, through the trees, he caught a glimpse of a person in a fluorescent safety jacket walking along the path next to the Reflecting Pool towards the World War Two memorial. The figure appeared to be carrying some form of surveying equipment over his shoulder.
‘He used the theodolite trick,’ said Robin.
Robin had seen this before. The public thought nothing of a surveyor setting up equipment and sighting through it to take measurements – the perfect cover for a high velocity weapon that looked like a theodolite.
‘We’re out of his sight now,’ said Robin. ‘I’m going to head for the war memorial and see if I can get near him. You contact White House security and brief them. You’ll need time to recover from the bullet.’
Robin stood up and sprinted towards the eastern end of the lake.
Paul/Swan pulled his mobile from his pocket and began to dial.
Robin reached the end of the lake and glanced towards the war memorial. He just caught sight of the survey instrument on top of its tripod as the person who was carrying it strode towards Seventeenth Street.
Robin ran straight onwards to reach the road about three hundred metres further north than the man he was pursuing.
When Robin reached the roadside, he glanced south. His target was striding towards him, possibly heading for a van that was parked on the grass by the roadside – about midway between them.
Robin began to walk towards the van at a brisk pace, but one that he hoped would not arouse suspicion.
The surveyor reached the van shortly before Robin, opened its rear doors and lifted the tripod inside.
Robin approached the man from behind, drew his gun and thrust it into the surveyors back. ‘Get into the back of the van,’ he said, ‘or you’re dead.’
The man slightly raised his hands and complied.
Robin climbed into the van behind him and immediately brought the butt of his gun down onto the back of the man’s head. He turned over the unconscious body. ‘Well, hello, Mr. Walt Cooper,’ he said.