Sixty days and counting - Kim Stanley Robinson [182]
Frank leaned over and picked up his daypack. “You’re done,” he said.
Frank’s waiter approached. “Hi,” he said to Cooper, “can I get you anything?”
“No.” Caroline’s ex stood abruptly, lurching a little toward Frank as he did. “Actually, you can get me away from this guy,” and he gestured contemptuously at Frank and walked out of the restaurant.
Frank sat back down. “A glass of the house red, please.”
But that was only bravado. He was distracted, even from time to time afraid. His appetite was gone. Before the waiter returned for his order he downed the glass, put a ten under it and left the restaurant. After checking out the street in both directions, he headed back into the park.
He was not chipped, as far as he could tell by the wand Edgardo had given him. He did not see anyone tailing him. He had not let any of the White House security people see which direction he went after he left the compound and crossed the street. He had not used his FOG phone. He had not eaten with the fregans for a while.
Still, Cooper had known where he was.
So the next day he called Edgardo, and they made a run date for lunch. From the 17th Street security gate they ran south, past the Ellipse and out onto the Mall. Once there they headed toward the Lincoln Memorial.
Edgardo took a wand from his fanny pack and ran it over Frank, and then Frank ran it over him. “All clear. What’s up.”
Frank told him what had happened.
Edgardo ran for a time silently. “So you don’t know how he located you.”
“No.”
Edgardo puffed as he ran for a while, as if singing under his breath, “Too-too-too-too-too, too-too-too-too-too. That’s bad.”
“Also, even though I’ve seen her twice, I still don’t have a way to get hold of her. She’s only used the dead drop that once.” For which, thank you forever.
Edgardo nodded. “Like I said. She’s got to be somewhere else.”
They ran on for a long time. Past the Vietnam Memorial, past Lincoln; turn left at the Korean War memorial, east toward the Washington Monument.
Finally Edgardo said, “I think this might mean we can’t wait any longer. Also, if he is trying to force you to act, then if you do something that looks rash, there will be a reason for why you would do it…. So that may make it a good time. I want to get you together with my friend Umberto again. He knows more about your friend, and I want him to tell you. She’s out of town, as I suggested to you.”
“Okay, sure. I’d like to talk to him.”
Edgardo pulled a cell phone out of his fanny pack and squeezed one button to make a call. A quick exchange in Spanish, followed by “Okay, see you there.” He put the cell phone away and said, “Let’s cross and go back. He’ll meet us down by the Kennedy Center.”
“Okay.”
So when they passed the Vietnam Memorial this time, they continued west until they reached the Potomac, then headed north on the riverside walk. As they approached one of the little bartizans obtruding from the river wall, they came on Umberto in a black suit, putting a big ID tag away in his inner pocket. Frank wondered if he was just coming down from the State Department at 23rd and C.
In any case, he walked with Frank and Edgardo upstream, until they could stop at a section of railing they had to themselves, within the shadow and rumble of the Roosevelt Bridge. Umberto wanded them, and Edgardo wanded Umberto, and then they spoke in Spanish for a while, and then Umberto turned to Frank.
“Your friend Caroline has been away from here, working on the problem of the election tampering from a distance. We have reason to worry for her safety, and recently we’ve also been concerned that the people we’re trying to deal with might have had something to do with the attempt on the president’s life. So in the process, we have contacted another unit that can help to deal with problems like this.”
“Which one?” Frank asked. That list of intelligence agencies, going on and on…
“They’re an executive task force. A part of the Secret Service that is working together with the Government Accountability