Nicholas moved to sit beside Mike. He opened the dossier, and the two of them began to read.
Damari was a chameleon. He managed to elude capture mostly because no one knew what he really looked like. The photographs included in the file showed a tall man, estimated height between one ninety and one ninety-three centimeters, which fit with what Nicholas knew about the Bayonne shootings. The man was about Nicholas’s height. There was a photo of him from twenty years earlier, a shot of a young man in green soldier’s garb, holding a worn Kalashnikov rifle.
Mike lightly touched her fingers to the photo. “Isn’t that strange? He’s young and he should look innocent, but he doesn’t.”
“I doubt he looks anything remotely like this now, except maybe for the eyes.”
They read the various physical descriptions. Mike pulled out the photo of him that Vanessa had taken, and the photo of the man who’d met Woody Reading at the diner in Baltimore. They all looked like different men. “I knew he must be good,” Mike said, “but your dad’s right. This is incredible.”
His kill list stretched for pages. Damari had been involved or solely responsible for several major assassinations, and many more minor ones. He was charged with unseating governments in Chile and Uganda through pinpoint strikes against certain players, taking out a DA in Argentina, a member of the Saudi royal family who’d gotten too full of himself. Page after page, a long, storied career for an assassin. And these were only the confirmed kills. Who knew how many others there were, off the radar?
Mike elbowed him, showed him a text on her phone. It was from Gray.
Border patrol stopped man fitting Damari’s last known description in Texas. Will let you know more when we have it, not that it matters all that much now that we already know he’s here, in our backyard. Have fun partying w/ big dogs. Bring us presidential M&Ms.
Nicholas stared out the window at the lush green landscape below, at the sprawling towns, wanting to feel excited, but he didn’t. There was something that wasn’t right and he didn’t know what it was. It was driving him nuts.
78
KNIGHT TO E2 CHECK
Camp David
Catoctin Mountain
We’ll be landing shortly at Camp David,” Captain Willis said over the intercom. “Naval Support Facility Thurmont is a full-time naval base tucked high on Catoctin Mountain here in northwestern Maryland. It’s one of the most secure places in the world. I hope you had a pleasant flight and enjoyed our brief tourist spiel. Do give our best to the president. Agent Drummond, he knows he’s a very lucky man, thanks to your being right on the spot.”
When the green-and-white Sea King touched down and the rotors stopped, they climbed out, shook the pilots’ hands. Mike shivered; it was at least fifteen degrees cooler in the mountains, and she was glad she’d packed a sweater.
Two rows of sailors, one on either side of the concrete path, waited to greet them. She knew the Navy and Marine personnel who worked on NSF Thurmont had high-level security clearance. It was a coveted position in the military. They were standing at attention. It felt incredible to be at the center of the amazing pomp and circumstance.
Vice President Sloane was at the end of the line of white-uniformed men and women, standing between the U.S. flag and another flag with the presidential seal on a blue background. She was smiling at them.
“Yes, I could get used to this,” Mike said to Nicholas, who gave her a distracted smile. What was this? What was he thinking about?
Callan shook their hands. “Welcome, welcome. We’re so glad to see you. Thank you for everything.”
Mike saw the sailors who’d greeted them tip their caps. She felt touched, a bit overwhelmed, and managed a wobbly smile.
Nicholas said, “I am very grateful things turned out well.”