Page 114 of Every Last Breath

Scrubbing her thoughts, she searched for any overlooked details. “When we found Novak at the hotel, he was coming back from somewhere. He’d only leave the hotel for something critical like supplies or to—”

“Scout the target location,” Castle said, finishing her sentence.

Maddox nodded. “Is there any way to go back through the surveillance footage around the arena for about two hours before Cole and I arrived at the hotel?”

Harper smoothed back her bun, even though not a single hair was ever out of place. “I can hack into the digital feed of the arena’s security cameras and play those back.” She was on her feet as she spoke, already moving toward the door.

“We need to know how to disarm the bioweapon.” Maddox glanced at Reece, hoping she wouldn’t need his demolition skills on this one. “Just in case.”

“If I can see the wiring and it doesn’t have a bi-layered backup trigger, I can disarm it. No problem.”

Then why did that sound like it had the potential to be such a huge problem?

“The CDC has a portable biocontainment receptacle,” Doc said. “But it’s large and heavy and, despite the name, isn’t very portable.”

“Have the CDC bring it with them and we’ll position you close by,” Sanborn said.

“Sir.” Maddox looked at Sanborn. “The Capital One Arena is huge. Twenty-five thousand square feet. A lot of terrain for five bodies to cover. We could use Cutter and Amanda out there.” They both had field experience and were qualified with a firearm.

Sanborn stood, pushing his chair away from the table. “Request granted. Don’t get this wrong. Recover the bioweapon. Capture or kill Novak and his son.” His voice was gritty and raw and carried the force of a hammer. “And when this is over”—he pointed a stern finger between Castle and Maddox—“we’re going to have a come-to-Jesus heart-to-heart.”

“Roger that, sir.” Castle rocked back in his chair, shoulders relaxed, his face the epitome of picture-perfect calm.

Sanborn clenched his jaw. His otherwise smooth aplomb remained intact as he strode out of the room. He had the power to tank their careers, but there was no way around pissing him off at this stage. They couldn’t run the risk of tipping their hand to anyone that they knew about the mole. Not until Novak was in custody and singing like a canary about his expensive, powerful broker friend and all his little birdies.

Maddox looked around the room. “Tonight, we don’t stop until we have Novak.”

“Hooah,” Reece said, letting the Army Delta in him show.

Standing, Gideon threw a stick of gum in his mouth. “Let’s go catch a ghost.”

Chapter 32

Capital Park Hotel, Washington, DC

6:30 p.m. EDT

Aleksander dabbed the spirit gum—a special adhesive for skin—on his eyebrows, cheeks, and chin. One strip at a time, he applied the false facial hair, transforming his brows into bushy black caterpillars. He layered thinner pieces on his jaw for the appearance of a beard.

With the dark, shaggy wig, he was a different man in the mirror. He buttoned his white shirt and took the press credentials from the bathroom sink, slipping one of the badges that’d get him and Val entry to the building around his neck.

He passed Val in the bedroom suite. His son flowed through his dance of tai chi poses, honed muscle flexing beneath taut skin.

Focused. Disciplined.

The watch with the hidden garrote looked good on Val’s wrist. As if it belonged.

Aleksander double-checked the canister he’d tucked inside the professional television video camera. Both the media passes and camera had come from his contact at the TV station. Such credentials had come in handy in the past, providing access to almost anywhere. The inside of the camera was the perfect concealment for a gun, but rather than stowing a firearm, he’d had Val adjust the interior to store the bioweapon.

He strolled to the window and put in his earbuds.

Played Berlioz. Symphonie Fantastique.

Nonstop traffic flurried across the streets. Preoccupied people absorbed in their shallow lives packed the sidewalks like mice in a barrel. The frenetic pace of the city energized him. Or it was the booster from the medicine fortifying his bones, charging his system to a razor’s edge.

He felt invincible.

Would be nice to see the Gray Box giving their last-ditch effort to find Agent Kinkade. Or to have one more update from the broker, but twelve hours from go time, he always went dark and terminated communications.