“Okay—but why are you here? If I remember correctly, aren’t you a counterterrorism agent?”

“That’s right.”

“Does the FBI suspect that this has something to do with terrorism?”

“No.”

Nick waited.

“It’s a little . . . complicated.”

“I’m listening.”

Donovan paused. “Remember the last time we worked together?”

“In New York, in TriBeCa, a couple of years ago. I remember clearly—you didn’t pay me that time either.”

“Well, that turned out to be a big case for me. It seems I stopped a guy who was planning to attack the city with bubonic plague.”

“I remember reading about that—on the cover of the New York Times, in fact. Not bad—that must have been a shot in the arm for your career.”

“To say the least. The Bureau takes a lot of heat these days; we get so many complaints and criticisms that when something actually goes right we want to make sure everybody knows about it.”

“So they want everybody to know about you.”

“I guess so. They pulled me off the field and brought me down to Washington. The camera seems to be following me right now, and I suppose they want to take advantage of it. It’s kind of a PR job, really. I go to a lot of parties; I do a lot of interviews.”

“They pulled you off the field? Is that what you wanted?”

“They didn’t ask.”

“I’m asking.”

“Some days I could slash my wrists,” Donovan said, “but that’s another story. To answer your question, I’m standing here with you because this is where they want me right now.”

“Here? Why?”

Donovan nodded to the massive excavation site that surrounded them. “The Patriot Center—that’s what they’re planning to call this place. It’ll be the largest mall in the eastern U.S., situated right off I-66, the main east-west corridor out of Washington, D.C., just an hour from the city. A thousand acres of Virginia countryside—and one man owns the whole shebang.”

“Who?”

“John Henry Braden.”

“Senator Braden?”

“In five months it’ll be President Braden, according to the buzz in Washington. This is all his land, Nick—not just the Patriot Center, but as far as the eye can see—most of it belongs to him.”

“That was a pretty good investment.”

“Can you imagine what will happen to the value of his land once the Patriot Center is completed? And not just around here—all along the I-66 corridor. Braden owns land all along the way.”

“How can one man afford to buy so much land?”

“He didn’t buy it; he inherited it. It’s been in his family for decades— centuries, from what I hear. Braden is one of those old Virginia blue bloods. The man has deep roots, and deep roots make deep pockets.”

“I suppose his people all came over on the Mayflower.”