He was waiting for the vice president, and the subject was Zeus, of course, and what had been found out so far, and what kind of unprecedented scandal this could turn out to be. Tillman was scheduled to address the National Association of Small Business Owners from 12:30 to 1:00 at the Convention Center. It was less than a mile and a half away, which meant maybe five minutes in the car. Reese was going to need every second.

At exactly 12:20, the vice president strode into the lobby with the Secret Service’s Dan Cormorant on one side and a deputy director of communications on the other.

Two scheduling assistants and another Secret Service agent trailed behind. The usual kind of entourage, trappings of power and arrogance.

Tillman looked surprised to see Reese standing there, holding his trademark fedora in one hand.

“Gabe, you’re coming to this thing?”

“Yes, sir. Wouldn’t miss it. Not a word. Not an arching eyebrow.”

“Okay. Okay. Let’s go, then.”

They continued outside, where the vice president’s Cadillac limo, two black Suburbans, and three motorcycle police waited with engines running. As the vice president stepped into his car, Reese put a hand on Cormorant’s shoulder.

“We need some privacy, Dan.”

The senior agent squinted in annoyance, then turned to his number two. “Bender, take the staff car. I’ve got this covered.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You know that has to go into the log,” Cormorant said as soon as the other agent was out of earshot.

“No, it doesn’t,” Reese told him. There was more than enough precedent for this kind of request, even from Reese himself. Once Reese and the vice president were in the car, Cormorant got in. Then he radioed the go-ahead, and the motorcade pulled out toward Fifteenth Street.

Chapter 25

WITH THE PARTITION up and tinted bullet- and soundproof glass on all sides, this was as private a meeting as they were going to get today, given the vice president’s busy schedule.

Reese took a quick breath, then he started right in on what he’d found out. For one thing, the FBI and Metro police were both pursuing the case—at least as a murder investigation. Apparently prostitutes were involved, male and female. Zeus hadn’t been identified yet. If there actually was a Zeus.

“I just heard that we’ve got another problem.” He turned to face the Secret Service agent on the jump seat. “Dan, do you know who Alex Cross is?”

“MPD detective, specializes in major cases—homicides, serials. He’s working on a certain murder in question?” Cormorant hadn’t missed a beat. “We’re aware of Cross’s involvement. We’re watching him.”

“And I’m finding out about this on my own, why?”

Cormorant ticked off the vice president’s wishes on two fingers. “No phone, no e-mail, remember? I’ll get information to you when I can get it to you, Gabe. We’re talking about one homicide detective here.”

“Hang on,” the vice president cut in. “Where are we on Zeus, Dan?”

“Quickly, please,” Reese added. They were already coming up on K Street, which was less crowded than usual— unfortunately.