The Inner Circle - Brad Meltzer [150]
I couldn’t have been more wrong.
History doesn’t choose individual people.
History chooses everyone. Every day.
The only question is: How long will you ignore the call?
I’ve been waiting for Tot… for Dallas… for the Culper Ring… for just about anyone to save me. But there’s only one person who can do that.
“I got it,” I tell him.
Holding Palmiotti’s gun, and still thinking about what Clementine said about my dad, I glance to my right. On the wall, there’s a small red fire alarm built into the rock. I hop to my feet and jab my elbow into the glass. The alarm screams, sending a high-pitched howl swirling through the cave.
That should bring Dallas the help he needs far faster than anything I can do. But as I check to make sure he’s still conscious…
“I’m fine…” Dallas whispers, drowned out by the alarm. “I’m fine. Go…”
Far behind us, there’s a low rumble as hundreds of employees follow their protocol and pour into the cave’s main artery, ready to evacuate. I barely hear it—especially as my own heartbeat pulses in my ears.
This isn’t history.
But it is my life. And my father’s. What she said…
I need to know.
Running full speed with a gun in my hand, I turn the corner and head deeper into the cave.
Clementine’s out there. So is Palmiotti.
I know they’re waiting for me.
But they have no idea what’s coming.
109
Get back here…!” Beecher’s voice bounced off the jagged walls as Palmiotti picked up speed and barreled deeper into the cave.
Using his tie as a makeshift tourniquet, Palmiotti knotted it twice around his forearm. Luckily, it was a through-and-through. The bleeding wasn’t bad. Still, he had no intention of waiting. Not when he was this close to Clementine… this close to catching her… and this close to grabbing the hospital file and finally ending this threat to him and the President.
No, this was the benefit of having everyone in one place, Palmiotti thought, ignoring the pulsing in his forearm and being extra careful as he reached another turn in the cave. Unsure of what was waiting around the corner, he stopped and waited. He’d seen what happened earlier. It wasn’t just that Clementine had a gun. It was how effortlessly she’d pulled the trigger.
Without a doubt, Wallace was right about her. She was an animal, just like her father. But as Palmiotti now knew, that didn’t mean that Wallace was right about everything. Palmiotti tried to tell him—based on what Dallas was reporting—that even though Beecher let Clementine into the Archives, it didn’t mean Beecher was also helping her blackmail Wallace and the Plumbers. That’s why the President came back and requested Beecher in the SCIF—he had to test Beecher. He had to know. But even so, once Beecher had the book… once he started sniffing down the right path… and the hospital file—and then to bring in Tot and the attention of the real Culper Ring… No, at the level that things were happening, there was only one way to protect what he and the President had worked so hard for. Palmiotti knew the risk of coming here himself. But with everyone in one spot, he could put out every last fire. And not leave anything to chance.
Those were the same lessons now, Palmiotti thought as he craned his neck out and found nothing but another empty cavity, slightly longer than a grocery aisle, with another sharp turn to the right. It was the fourth one so far, as if the entire back of the cave ran in an endless step pattern. But as Palmiotti turned the corner, down at the far end of the next aisle, there was a puddle of water along the floor and a red spray-painted sign that leaned against the wall with the words Car Wash on it.
Racing down the length of the dark brown cavern—back here, the walls were no longer painted white—Palmiotti felt the cave getting warmer. He also noticed two yellow sponges, still soapy with suds, tucked behind the Car Wash sign. Whoever else