“Look up Walter Brennan,” Faith said.“Figure out where he is and get bodyguards to watch him ASAP.”
She waited, heart racing, while Jessica looked up Walter Brennan.
After a few minutes, Jessica said, “Okay, I’ve got him.It looks like he travels a lot for the Chaplain Corps, but he’s based at Anacostia-Bolling.He was out of town, though.He just got back this morning” Her eyes widened, and she looked at Faith.
“Call Metro PD,” Faith said.“Tell them we need presence around the base.Turk!”
Turk popped his head into the cabin.
“Come on, boy,” Faith said.“It’s time to go catch a bad guy.”
Turk barked exuberantly, and the three of them made the best time they could out of the forest to their car.It was a long shot that Sullivan would surface now that everyone knew who he was, but there was always hope.As long as there was hope, there was no room for despair.
And if Sullivan wanted to complete his revenge, then Faith would be there to prevent him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
The Apostate resisted the urge to slide his hand into his pocket and wrap his fingers around the gun.He wished he’d brought a bigger one.The compact .22 was easily concealed, but it had an effective range of only seven yards.Ten yards was pushing it.He’d need to get close.
He waffled between frustration and fear as the bus pulled to a stop in front of the gate.Frustration because those damned police officers had ruined everything, and fear because the FBI was now hot on his tail.They had used his description to determine his identity, forcing him to leave his home and change his appearance, cutting his long hair short and wearing contacts instead of glasses.He didn’t know if that would be enough, so he sprayed himself with a generous amount of cologne, enough, he hoped, to mask his scent if law enforcement used K9s.
After today, it definitely wouldn’t be enough.
The staff sergeant manning the gate hopped onto the bus.Everyone pulled their military IDs out.Most of the bus riders were young Marines fresh out of boot camp here to visit Marine Corps Headquarters before deploying.These were the dedicated grunts, the ones who had either enjoyed no success in their social lives and had nothing but the Corps to fall back on or so loved the idea of being a Marine that they could think of no better way to spend their time than to remind themselves how awesome the Corps was.
The rest were a scattering of people from other branches and a few civilians who had military IDs because they subcontracted on the base.Walter Brennan was a fairly well-known speaker, and the sizable Baptist population in Washington often flocked to hear him speak.
The Apostate showed his ID, keeping his face calm.He had created that ID just before burying his ID printer behind his cabin and leaving the woods for good.It looked legitimate, but if the sergeant punched the number into his system, it would come back invalid.
The sergeant’s eyes flicked over the ID with all the interest of a junior NCO assigned gate duty.In other words, none.He handed it back to the Apostate and moved on.
The Apostate stifled his sigh of relief and waited for the bus to move on.It did a moment later, carrying fifty-eight passengers to the base chapel where Walter Brennan would hold a special memorial service for the two chaplains the Apostate had killed.He wondered if this service would differ from the memorial his daughter had delivered the night before or if both would peddle the same bullshit.
False prophets.Both of them.The Antichrist and the Whore of Babylon.
The Apostate’s hands curled, and he caught himself, breathing steadily.He couldn’t let his anger show.Not now.It was crucial that he stay in control.
The bus stopped, and the passengers disembarked.The Apostate hesitated when he saw the military police officers in front of the chapel door.He hadn’t expected security.
How the fuck do you not expect security, idiot?Of course there’s security.You tried to kill a woman here less than twenty-four hours ago.
A hand tapped his shoulder, and he stepped down, smiling apologetically at the woman behind him.Inwardly, his mind was reeling.
He glanced at the door, heart thumping.When the MPs ignored the people walking in save for brief, cursory glances, he felt a rush of relief.They weren’t searching anyone.He was okay.
He mingled with the crowd, moving slowly.He resisted the urge to smile at the MPs.Better to stay completely off their radar.
The crowd was already sizable by the time the Apostate entered the auditorium.He frowned slightly when he saw that.He had hoped for a seat near the front, but the only pews available were some seventy feet from the front and perhaps another twenty from the pulpit.Much too far for his weapon to reach.
He pressed his lips together and took a seat in the fifth pew from the back.A young woman of maybe twenty-five or -six sat next to him.She smiled and blushed at him, but he didn’t think she was flirting, just awkward about sitting so close.She confirmed that a moment later by scooting a foot further away and turning her shoulders so she faced slightly away.She looked at him again, her face suggesting that she wondered what it was about the Apostate that repelled her.
Some people had good instincts.They could sense death even if they didn’t understand exactly what they were sensing.
A commotion sounded behind him, and the Apostate turned toward the door.His breath caught in his throat, and his jaw went slack.Two FBI agents had entered the auditorium, accompanied by a massive German Shepherd.The dog’s white muzzle betrayed his advanced age, but his movement and muscle tone suggested that white fur was the only thing about him that was old.
The dog stopped in the back of the auditorium and sniffed.Then it looked directly at him.
Oh God, please no.
