“Forget it! The local police will take control of the scene. My men are dead. The dead will be identified as Saudi, it will link my nation with the hunt for Court Gentry, and everyone will know. It is only a matter of time before they connect the pieces.” He paused. “I have to get out of the country.”

“No! We’ll come up with a story for the press. I’ll talk to them personally. We’ve manipulated it so far, we will control it.”

“What story?”

Carmichael said, “Come to me here. We can talk about this. I’ll put it on the books as an emergency liaison meeting between our offices. They won’t let you bring your detail to the safe house, but I can send an armored motorcade to pick you up and bring you to me.”

“I don’t know what you think we can accomplish.”

“Damage control, Kaz! We stop the bleeding on this op, and then we go back on offense.” Carmichael looked at his watch. “I have an emergency meeting with the Working Group at eight, but I’ll send the cars to pick you up now and you can wait in my office till I’m finished.”

There was a long pause. Then, “Send your very best men.”

—

Court and Zack exfiltrated the Ritz hotel and then began driving south, out of Arlington. The plan was to return to Court’s safe house, of sorts, in the woods an hour south of the District. Zack didn’t think much of the plan; he wanted to stop for celebratory pizza and beers, but Court insisted they lie low for the rest of the night.

They were most of the way down I-95 and nearing the turnoff to the little airport when Zack got a call from Matt Hanley. He put it on speaker so Court could hear.

Zack gave Hanley an after-action report on the events at the Ritz, and Hanley seemed pleased, but quickly it became clear he had something else he wanted to talk about.

“I just got some interesting news from a guy who used to be in Ground Branch. Now he is driving in the secure motor pool. I put out feelers with a few outside the division yesterday saying I was trying to find out where Denny was spending his nights, and this guy came through.”

“What did he say?” Court asked.

“The U.S. head of Saudi Arabia’s Mukhabarat in D.C. was just transported to a CIA safe house in Alexandria.”

Court asked, “Why is that significant?”

“The place he went to is a damn citadel. It’s called Alexandria Eight. It’s been around forever. It’s old, but the Agency doesn’t have a more fortified installation anywhere in the District. That’s going to be where Denny is hiding out.”

Court understood. “And this Saudi is going to be the guy I talked to on the phone. Who is he?”