She didn’t say anything. She didn’t want to take the weapon and give them an excuse to shoot her. She stayed in the chair.
He gestured to the card and went on. “That’s a special federal weapons permit. It authorizes you to carry any gun you choose. That includes things like suppressors and fully automatic weapons. Anything. And of course, your knife. Another smart choice.”
He was sounding more like a weapons instructor than anything else.
One of the other men, another big black guy in a dark suit that fit him well, handed over her knife, handle-first. She stared at it in his hand for a moment, then took it and slid it down into the sheath in her boot.
Agent Lumley, looking beat, gestured to her gun and the permit card. “It’s not a trick. You can have your weapon back. You’ve been completely cleared of all charges. We’ll escort you safely out of the building. I would assume that it’s your guardian angel who is waiting outside for you.”
Angela finally stood. Keeping her eyes on Lumley, she picked up the gun and slid it back into her grandfather’s holster at the small of her back. She could tell by the weight that it was loaded.
She held her hand out, palm up.
“Oh,” one of the other men said. He reached in the side pocket of his suit jacket and brought out three loaded magazines. He placed them in her palm. Angela slid them into a pocket.
She picked up the federal weapons permit, glanced at it briefly, and then slipped it into her back, left pocket.
With the four new men in front and the three agents who had been interrogating her following behind, they led her up the stairs and out of the building. It was somewhere in the middle of the night. She’d lost track of time.
At the top of the stairs, Agent Lumley grabbed her wrist to stop her.
In a heartbeat she reversed the grip, levered his hand over, and twisted it to the side, stopping just before it broke the bones. He went to one knee, contorting his body sideways to try to take the pressure off his wrist. If he tried anything she could break it.
“Jesus, Constantine, I was only going to say ‘no hard feelings.’ ”
Still holding his hand twisted within a hairsbreadth of breaking bones, she leaned down toward him. “Use some mouthwash, would you, Lumley? Your breath smells like dick.”
A couple of the men in dark suits chuckled.
“Angela.” It was a voice behind her that she recognized. “Leave him be and let’s go.”
Angela released Agent Lumley and after giving him a dark look turned to see a welcome face. It was Jack.
He smiled, and everything suddenly seemed all right.
The dread of what was to become of her suddenly lifted. He was the friend in high places, her guardian angel.
FIFTY-EIGHT
As Jack led her down the steps, they left the agents standing up at the top of the stairs in front of the dark federal building lit by streetlights. The three who had been interrogating her looked like schoolboys who had been reprimanded by nuns and sent to Mother Superior’s office.
They walked calmly to Jack’s car, parked on a side street. He held the door for her and shut it after she sat down. She wasn’t used to men with manners. Jack had manners.
“What time is it?” she asked as she looked around the dark streets.
“It’s about one thirty,” he said as he pulled away from the curb. “I’m sorry it took so long. I was trying my best to get you out of there sooner.”
“It’s okay,” she said. “I’m used to getting slapped around by guys.”
“I’m glad they didn’t do worse. I’m especially relieved they didn’t take you to Washington. It would have greatly complicated matters if you’d have gone down that rabbit hole.”
Angela rode in silence for moment.
“They said that I have a friend in high places. They said that friend vouched for me.”
Jack smiled along with a one-shoulder shrug. “I talked to some people and convinced them to do the right thing and release you.”
“You told me that you were off the grid and everyone thought you were dead. You would have had to come out of the shadows to get me out of there. That’s bound to cause you problems.”
He glanced over at her. “Getting you released was more important to me than staying dead. They would have fed you to the wolves. I’m guessing they wanted you to sign a confession?”
“Yeah, they did. I could tell they thought this would make them big shots. But I wouldn’t do it.”
“In the end, they would have simply signed your name and in short order you would have been tried, convicted, and executed.
“They would have given a big press announcement that they had captured the right-wing terrorist mastermind behind the recent attacks. The case would be sealed a few tiers above top secret. No one would know the truth.
“They would not have mentioned a word about any atomic bomb. With you dead and buried, and that confession sealed, no one would ever see it or dispute it, that would have been the end of the story, the end of Angela Constantine.”
“Except those assholes who got my ‘confession’ would end up heroes.”
He smiled again. “That’s the game they were playing. None of the intel agencies knew squat about the nuke until we told them about it, so to redeem themselves they needed a scapegoat.”
Angela frowned over at Jack as he drove through the dark, deserted streets. “What did you have to do to get me away from them?”
“I vouched for you—let them know you were the one who actually stopped the terrorist.”
Angela looked out at the dark, empty streets. “I think you must have done something more than that.”
“Hey, let me see the card they gave you,” he said, changing the subject.
Angela pulled it out of her back pocket and handed it over. “What, exactly, is this, anyway?”
He looked at it a moment and then handed it back. “It’s a very special federal permit. Think of it as a double-oh-seven kind of thing. It means you can legally carry any weapon you want. Your suppressor is now legal. You can carry a machine gun if you want. With that permit you could get on an airplane with a gun.”
“Wow,” she said in a whisper as she studied the card.
“Keep the phone number on the back in a safe place. Commit the number of the card on the front to memory. If you ever lose the card you can call, give them that number, and get a replacement. It’s good for life, too. Did they also tell you that you’ve been blessed?”
Angela scrunched up her nose. “Blessed? No, they didn’t mention that. What does that mean?”
“It means you’ve been vetted and given clearance at the highest levels. If there is ever an investigation of something, you will be left out of it. You’re already blessed. It will keep anyone from going after you again.”
She looked at his face lit by the instrument panel.
“Why would you do all this for me, Jack?”
“Because you’re a very special person, Angela. You can recognize killers, and you stopped an atomic bomb from going off in America. My ability is to see in people’s eyes that they can recognize killers. That’s what I do. That’s all I can do.
“But you are a whole order of magnitude more than any other person I’ve found with that ability. I know because I’ve worked with people like that for a very long time. Like I say, you’re a very special person, Angela.”
She looked down at her hands in her lap for a long moment.
“Not so special. I was born broken.”
He frowned over at her. “What are you talking about?”
“My mother used all kinds of drugs when she was pregnant with me. Whoever my father was would have been a drug addict as well. All those drugs in her system when she was pregnant with me messed me up. I’m not like normal people. I’m a freak.”