“I feel safer already, knowing you’re here,” Ethan admitted. Murphy nodded, then she shut the door.
Agent Murphy
The sun set and the music blared as she left the small trailer. She pulled her walkie-talkie off her belt loop.
“This is Murphy. Checking in.”
“Agent Murphy,” a male’s voice she didn’t recognize said, “so far, everything looks good. Just got a report from the Capitol Police. The four entrances are flowing smoothly. No major hiccups.”
“Thanks.” There were two major pinch points onto the Western Lawn. They had set up security points on the north or the Senate side of Capitol Square at First and Constitution and Third and Pennsylvania. They then had entrances on the south or the House side of Capitol Square at First and Independence and Third and Maryland. All attendees were subjected to search. It was a massive security undertaking. And most of this was in place long before Murphy landed on the ground this afternoon.
“Agent Murphy,” her walkie-talkie chirped.
“This is Murphy.”
“Good evening, Agent Murphy,” Dr. Hennigan said.
“You,” Murphy blurted.
“Is that any way to greet an old friend?”
“What do you want?” Murphy said. “And how are you even talking to me?”
“Well, I’ll start with the first question but won’t answer the second. As for the first question, we have actionable intelligence that Laura Lee Jackson landed north of New York City this morning, rented a vehicle and drove into Manhattan. She then ditched her rental car and stole a different one from the Port Authority. We tracked that vehicle just south of Philadelphia to a mall where it had been torched.” Murphy took a quick breath. “Based on your reaction, I assume you understand what this means?”
“She’s heading here.”
“That’s our assessment as well.”
“How do you know this when no one else seems to have heard anything?”
“That relates to that second question I promised I wouldn’t answer. Besides, you probably don’t want to know our methods.”
“Who the fuck are you people?” Murphy exclaimed into the walkie-talkie.
“Excuse me? Who is this? This is the Capitol Police. Identify yourself,” a voice said in rapid succession.
Murphy chose to ignore the question and continued walking through the maze behind the stage. She spotted a rocker from a group she’d listened to as a teenager smoking a joint. Technically, DC had legalized small amounts of pot, but smoking in public was still not allowed. Moreover, these were federal grounds and not part of the Washington, Douglass Commonwealth, so the legality was unclear. At worst, the pot was a minor offense.
“Take it inside, please,” she said as she passed the man. “I don’t want someone to decide to arrest you. The next member of law enforcement to walk by may not be a fan.”
She didn’t wait for the man’s response. She had places to be.
“Agent Murphy,” her walkie-talkie squawked.
“POTUS and FLOTUS just arrived with their grandchildren and are heading to the ZERO greenroom tent.”
“What the fuck?” Murphy cursed, grateful she hadn’t pressed the button when she said it. “Can you please get the Secret Service on the line for me?”
“One second,” a voice responded.
Murphy looked around, didn’t see anyone, so she kicked the tire of a trailer repeatedly until someone poked their head out.
“Sorry,” Murphy said and moved along.
“Agent Murphy, this is Agent Malone. You asked to speak with me?”
“Are you in charge of the POTUS detail?”
