It dawned on me that Bergen was probably wearing a wire, engaging in conversations with all kinds of donors. He was now the ultimate FBI informant, helping the DOJ get dirty money out of politics. With the midterms looming, nobody wanted the scandal of prosecuting the senator. The deal gave him the easy way out and gave the swamp leverage. It wasn’t a stretch to think Bergen had taken money from the Navarro crime family. He likely had dirt on the major players, and that made him a target. When the cartel buys a politician, they want their money’s worth, and they weren’t getting it anymore with Bergen.
The sheriff and I moved to the south wall and kept watch.
It was out of our hands now. Isabella would either disable the explosive or she wouldn’t. This whole drama could have been avoided with a simple scan and a small EMP device to fry the chip. One can easily be made with a taser, a few capacitors, copper coil, and some hot glue. Of course, the devices were illegal, and there wasn’t time to make one now.
Bergen spoke into the microphone. "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you all for being here tonight. You are all warriors in the fight to make this country safer and stronger. I have always taken a hard line against crime and criminal organizations, and I intend to take that to the next level. With a steadfast resolve and an iron heart, I will make the streets safer for all Americans. Last year alone, there were 112,000 deaths from fentanyl. More than all the modern wars combined since Vietnam. This is an unacceptable statistic. Ninety-five percent of all narcotics pass through our borders undetected. Whether they're transported in cars, vans, buses, or in tunnels underground, we must step up our interdiction efforts. We must change as technology changes. Criminal cartels are out there, devising new ways to bring drugs into this country as we speak. They use drones, airplanes, submarines, and boats. They hide drugs in produce, animals, commercial goods, and even people…”
Isabella crackled in my ear.
56
"I've disabled the device,” Isabella said. “It's all clear.”
"Copy that," I said, breathing a little easier.
"I can't say that I'm a fan of this guy. He’s flip-flopped more times than I can count. But it looks like he's going to be around for another term.”
"Thank you. You're the best.”
"I know," she said in a cute voice.
I told the sheriff, and we hung back against the side wall and tried to enjoy the circus.
Catalina looked uneasy. She almost never looked uneasy. She sent a text on her phone, then waited, watching the senator.
He continued with his speech.
Nothing happened.
Catalina looked frustrated. She sent another text.
The senator kept blabbering.
Nothing happened.
Then the lights went out.
Gasps filled the room.
I pulled a high-powered tactical flashlight from my pocket and swept the narrow beam across the ballroom.
Phones came out of pockets and purses, and people clicked on flashlights.
"Everyone stay calm," the senator said. "I'm sure the power will be on in just a moment. It's only a glitch."
His private security staff drew close to the stage.
It dawned on me that the heist at the gala was just a trial run for this night. None of the security flaws had been addressed. I liked Carl, the head of hotel security, but he dropped the ball on this one.
My flashlight beam fell upon a waiter in a white jacket, carrying a tray with an entrée and a silver lid. A surgical mask obscured his face. He walked in between the tables and the podium, making a beeline for the south wall. He lifted the lid, tossed it aside, and pulled a subcompact pistol from the plate. A suppressor was threaded to the end of the barrel.
This was Plan B.
I drew my pistol and took aim as the assailant lined up the senator in his sights.
I had a clean shot.
The shooter’s finger gripped tightly around the trigger.
