The Persona Protocol - By Andy McDermott Page 0,180
official in question. I know everything he does – and everything he did.’
‘Who is this person?’ asked Sternberg, in a tone that suggested he had already worked out the answer.
‘Admiral Harper, sir.’
A pause. ‘That’s an extremely serious allegation, Gray. And I need more proof than just your say-so, even if you do have Harper’s memories.’
‘I’ve got a disk that the Admiral just took from the federal data repository in Suitland. He intended to destroy it. It’s a copy of the log files that show he interfered in a joint CIA-SOCOM undercover op to give disinformation to al-Qaeda in Pakistan, by switching the Secretary’s fake itinerary that was meant to lead a terrorist cell into a trap for the real one.’
Another moment of shocked silence. ‘Now, it’s no secret that Harper and I aren’t exactly best buddies,’ said Sternberg slowly, ‘but you’re saying that he’s a traitor? I can’t believe that.’
‘Nobody would. That’s why he thought he’d get away with it. Sir, I’m on my way into Washington right now to give you the disk. When you have it I’ll surrender myself and face any charges against me, but you have to see the evidence. Harper can’t be allowed to get away with what he’s done.’
‘All right,’ said Sternberg after brief deliberation. ‘Bring me the disk. But do I have your word that you’ll turn yourself in?’
‘Absolutely, sir. Once the disk is in your hand, I’ll surrender. Where are you?’
‘At the Eisenhower Building.’
‘I’m ten minutes away. Where will you be?’
‘Meet me at the north entrance on 17th Street. I’ll make sure that—’
The rear windscreen exploded.
Adam flinched as a bullet hit the back of the passenger seat’s headrest, blowing a hole through the leather. He dropped the phone and took the wheel with both hands, eyes darting between the mirrors.
Lights were coming up fast from behind. Three sets, large vehicles.
Baxter’s team had found him.
48
No Limit
Headlight flare from a car on the other side of the median strip gave Adam a glimpse of Baxter leaning out of the lead SUV. Red laser light lanced from his MP5. Adam swerved. Muzzle flash blossomed in the mirror, the gun’s rattle accompanied by harsh clanks as rounds hit the trunk lid.
He heard Sternberg’s tinny voice from the fallen phone. ‘Sir, I’m under fire!’ was all he could spare the mental resources to shout before diverting his attention entirely to evasion and escape. The Mustang was on paper much faster than the SUVs, but with their upgraded engines and suspensions the Suburbans were no slouches.
He dropped down a gear and accelerated, the rev counter jumping up into the red. The speedometer reached one hundred and kept climbing. He checked the mirror. His pursuers were falling back . . .
Not fast enough. He was opening a gap, but now the other drivers had their feet hard to the floor.
Adam changed up. One-twenty. Mirror. The lead Suburban was a couple of hundred yards back, out of the sub-machine gun’s effective range – but it was now maintaining the distance, its companions right behind it.
He looked ahead—
Red tail lights filled both lanes.
Fear sent an adrenalin shot through his system. He braked, sloughing off speed and swinging the Mustang right to avoid a collision. A vicious thump-thump as the wheels mounted the kerb, then the entire car shuddered with earthquake force as it rode along the bumpy grass verge.
It was like driving on ice. Adam grappled with the steering wheel, needing all his skill to hold the car in line as its tail threatened to snap out and send him into a spin. He overtook the obstructing cars, but now saw green rushing at him in his headlamp beams, shrubs and trees directly ahead—
A twitch of the wheel. The Mustang swung back to the left, kicking up dust and shredded grass before crashing on to the blacktop. The jolt as the suspension hit its limits felt like a kick to his spine.
He ignored the pain and straightened out, dropping back through the gears to accelerate again. The lead SUV switched on its strobes, unearthly blue pulses silhouetting the cars he had just overtaken. The one in the inside lane slowed, the other ducking aside to let the faster vehicles through.
The Parkway passed under a bridge. A sign at the roadside told Adam that the chase had just entered the District of Columbia. He was about six miles from his destination.
Six miles. Half of them on the highway. The other half would take him through the busy streets of Washington.