Chapter 7
We rode the subway through the Capitol, didn‘t get out until we had ridden it the entire loop. "Dad, they said you were dead. You and mom. Shot in the head. Said I did it. What happened? Who took you? "
"Franny‘s dead?"
"Oh God, Dad!" I cried. "I thought you knew!"
"Tell me," he said quietly, his voice tightly controlled but full of rage.
"Murphy said an anonymous tip came about a domestic disturbance and shots fired.
Detectives found you and Mom dead, shot in the head; me missing, my books loaded with drugs and money. Your Sig Sauer missing."
"Anyone who knows you knows you‘ve never touched one of my guns. Not since I took you to the range that time. You never did tell me why you gave it up, you were damn good."
"The strings tangled," I muttered.
"The what?"
"Don‘t ask, Dad. Just saw that if I kept practicing, something bad was going to happen."
"I called you from the corner, saw some strange guys cruising near the house, and got a bad feeling. I called Murph, told him to pick you up at Some Place. When I drove back to the house, there were blacked out SUVs all over the place. BOLOS out for you. I was rear ended by some big beefy dude in sunglasses and whacked my head on the steering wheel. Was knocked out. Came to in some dingy cell in a government basement."
"That was the Pentagon."
"The----," he stopped. "They kept asking me where you were. I was hooded and carted away. Don‘t remember anything else until I woke up handcuffed to that bar in the interrogation room."
"Are those dudes FBI, Dad?" I asked and he shook his head.
"They might be in the same building but they‘re something more powerful and clandestine. I think NSA or DIA. Or worse, BlackOps."
"What are we gonna do, Dad?"
"Get you someplace safe, first thing."
"Yeah? Where‘s that? The moon?" I retorted.
"You got a cell phone on you?"
"No. You know they can track you by cell phone towers?"
"Yes, Jade. I know that. We have to call somebody. We need a ride out of here."
"Uh, Dad," I said hesitantly. "I can hot wire a car."
"Yeah? Where did you learn that little trick?"
"From Reilly."
"Great. My Sergeant is teaching my son to be a criminal. So what did you have in mind?"
"First, we have to get off this train. Pick a station where there are many parked vehicles and no closed circuit TVs. Some of the older overhead garages are ideal places."
"I can see I‘m going to have to inspect your next year curriculum," he said sourly. "Next stop is East DC. I don‘t recommend that area because it‘s a bad neighborhood. Lots of drive-by shootings and drug traffic."
"What, you want Annapolis? By now, they must know you‘re gone and the cops, the FBI will be scrambling to find you."
"How did you get in the Hoover building, anyway?" He stood up and walked to the doors, hanging on to the strap as the train rocketed along.
We weren‘t the only ones on; the seats were relatively empty but started filling up the closer into downtown we rode. "This next stop coming up is good."
"How do you know?" he was curious.
"I can see our strings. Both of them continue on without tangles or tension," I explained.
I held onto him as the train lurched to a stop and the pneumatic doors opened.
"Jade, you are one weird boy," he shook his head and stepped out onto the platform. We mingled with a few people, mostly professional types dressed in suits and nice clothes. No hipsters, gang bangers or t-shirt wearers. We caught a few stares but were clean enough that no one seemed overly curious.
The climb up onto the main street was an exercise in patience. I wanted to race up them yet my feet plodded like an old man‘s. Dad took two steps to my one and waited for me with a frown. "You okay, Jeddy?"
I reached the top step and nodded. "Yeah. Tired. Really tired," I paused. "Dad, I killed a couple of dudes yesterday. With the coin."
His lips thinned. "I‘m not surprised. Don‘t let it bother you. I suspect they‘ll do worse if they catch us. Come on. We need to get a vehicle and get out of here.