As she skimmed the letter, Dirk eyed the box and noted the return address. “It’s from Perlmutter. What does St. Julien have to say?”
“He says we’re not going back to Washington with Rudi,” Summer said, looking at her father with persuasive eyes. “Instead, we’re to take a trip to Tierra del Fuego.”
83
THE MOUNT VERNON TRAIL WAS A PICTURE OF tranquillity south of Alexandria, with only the muted whir of light highway traffic nearby intruding its peacefulness. Just a few early-morning joggers and bikers were scattered along its riverfront route, pushing to complete their daily workouts before the business day began.
Dan Fowler pushed himself to sprint the last few steps of his three-mile run, crossing an imaginary finish line before slowing to a walk. He ambled to a nearby drinking fountain, where he lapped up a stream of cool water.
“Good morning, Dan. How was your run?”
Fowler choked, whirling around as water dribbled down his chin. His shock at hearing the familiar voice was evident as he turned to find Ann Bennett standing before him, dressed in her usual business attire.
“Ann . . . how are you?” he stammered.
“Just fine.”
“Where have you been? We’ve all been worried sick.”
“I had to take a little trip.”
“But you didn’t tell anyone. We’ve had the police searching for you. Is everything all right?”
“Yes. A personal matter came up rather unexpectedly.”
Fowler glanced around nervously, spotting only a few joggers and a man repairing a flat tire on his bicycle. “Are you alone? I feared you were in danger.”
“I’m fine. I just wanted to talk to you in private.”
“Sure.” Fowler eyed a grove of trees near the Potomac River that offered some seclusion. “Why don’t we walk?” He gently guided her off the trail.
“I had a lot of time to think about the case while I was away,” she said.
“You probably aren’t aware of the latest developments,” Fowler said, testing her. “Somebody hijacked one of the Sea Arrow’s propulsion motors on its way to Groton.”
“Yes, I was aware of that. Are there any suspects?”
“No, the FBI hit a wall on the case.”
“I’m not surprised. Tell me, Dan, what do you know about the ADS system?”
“ADS? Isn’t that some sort of crowd-control device that the Army cooked up? I really don’t know much about it.”
“Cooked up is right.” Ann thought back to her first encounter with the device in New Orleans. “Didn’t you tell me you were with the Army Research Lab?”
“Yes, I did a short stint there. Why do you ask?”
“According to their personnel director, you managed the security for the Active Denial System program. In that capacity, you would have had access to all its plans. Perhaps you’d find it interesting to know that the Army is not alone in possessing the technology. As a matter of fact, Edward Bolcke has a unit on one of his ships.”
“What are you driving at, Ann?”
“Dan, how long have you been on Bolcke’s payroll?”
They were almost to the trees. Fowler smiled at Ann. “That’s preposterous. We both know that Tom Cerny at the White House is your likely turncoat. Ann, you really shouldn’t jump into the water if you don’t know how to swim.”
Ann ignored the insult. “Cerny was a good red herring. I bought into him for a while, until I reviewed his detailed security clearance. Despite your allusions, he has had no involvement with any military technologies that have been compromised. He also hasn’t set foot in Central America in over twenty years. He’s clean.”
Fowler said nothing as they reached the edge of the grove.