“Traffic on the Townsend inter-team radios claims they are converging on a fleeing subject through the golf course.”

“It’s not me, boss. I’m golden.”

Mayes was confused. “I’ll call you back.”

“Roger that,” Zack said, and he hung up the phone and turned up the radio.

—

Denny Carmichael had decided to spend another night in his office. He’d already changed into his nightclothes, but he’d remained at his desk, waiting to hear confirmation of Babbitt’s death. He had Mayes listening in on the Townsend frequency in his office, and he had confirmed the kill just two minutes earlier.

Carmichael turned off his computer and stood up from his desk now, getting ready to lie down on the couch and turn off the lights, but his phone rang again, surprising him. He snatched it with irritation. “What is it?”

Mayes spoke in his clipped tone. “Townsend is chasing a man who was on the property at the time of Babbitt’s shooting.” He paused an instant. “I spoke with Hightower. He’s clear.”

Carmichael understood almost instantly. “Gentry.”

“Who else could it be? I’ll deploy JSOC.”

“Do it. The local police will get there first, but if Gentry squirts out of the police cordon maybe they can get a shot at him.”

Carmichael hung up and immediately picked his secure mobile off his desk. He sent a brief text to Kaz.

Violator spotted in Chevy Chase. Under pursuit by private security. Vector to police traffic in area.

It took less than a minute for the text reply.

Understood.

—

In Arlington, Virginia, three Washington, D.C., police interceptors raced out of a parking lot and headed north, taking similar but separate routes. At this time of the evening it would take them less than twenty minutes to arrive at the destination, not that they knew exactly where they were going at this point. They would listen to police bands during the ride up, however, so they hoped to have a good idea of the location of their quarry by the time they got close.

—

Court Gentry crawled back up to his feet in the bunker alongside the twelfth green, spit out a mouthful of sand, and looked around. He saw the far edge of the golf course and a low wall there, and beyond that the streetlights of a busy intersection. There were several closed businesses up and down the street, but on the corner he saw the bright lights of two that appeared to be open.

He told himself he had to make it to the street to have any chance of getting away from his pursuers.