The Carolina Coup: Another Rwandan Genocide? (The Jeannine Ryan Series Book 4) Read Free Page B

moved to the East.  The watery film settled to the base of the pane.
    Hugh started. At the base of the window, water had seeped in and around the bolts.
    The damn bolts are loose.
    Wait!   Maybe Hamm?
    He stooped to remove the bolts and lifted the dripping pane onto the floor.  He leaned out.
    Bingo!
    Suspended dripping on a branch below was a dark cloth, a ski mask.
    He leaned further and saw a bare space where a dumpster usually sat.  The dumpster was gone!
    Only yesterday it had been full of debris.  Landscaping had cleaned and cleared the grounds this week.
    That’s it!  Damn you Hamm .
    Hugh returned to his room.  Within five minutes he had the name of the driver who had picked up the dumpster.
    He called Tom Holder.
    “Have you left for Bethesda yet?   Good, you can fix Ryan’s phones later.  Meet me at my car.  You and I are going to see a driver about a dumpster.”
***
    The driver of the dumpster truck, induced this time by a couple of hundred dollar bills, was more than willing to cooperate with his new benefactors.  He described the ride with the stranger to Prince William Hospital and told them the exact spot where their “friend” had left the truck and entered the hospital.
    Fifteen minutes later, Hugh Byrd stood in front of the hospital, in the very spot where Hamm had gotten out.
    Hamm you weren’t going to the hospital, why here?
    Hugh trusted his hunches. He paused to survey the scene
    Then he saw.  Several blocks away there was a sign for a car rental agency.  Of course.
    Hamm was afoot!
    He turned to Tom Holder and pointed to the car rental sign.
    “That’s where Hamm went.  I know it.  Come on, let’s go.”
    Tom drove.
***
    At the car agency, Hugh Byrd, flashed his government credentials.  In only minutes a cooperative clerk verified that a man matching Hamm’s description had rented a blue Honda Accord three hours earlier.
    Hugh was elated.  He now knew Hamm was driving a blue Accord, and more importantly he knew the Accord’s license plate.
    He congratulated himself.  Damn. I’m good at this!
    As he turned to leave, the clerk called to him.
    “Sir, one more thing.  The gentleman who rented the Accord asked me if we had an office in Gainesville.  I told him we did.  He might plan to return our car there.”
    Hugh’s grin widened.
    “Thanks, you’ve been a big help.”
    He strode to the car where Tom Holder waited.
    “A home run, Tom.  I hit it out the park!”
***
    Several hours later, William Hamm sat in his room at the Hampton Inn in Gainesville, Virginia.  The room was comfortably furnished, but he could not relax.
    Eighteen hours ago he had stolen government secrets in order to expose Byrd and his co-conspirators.  They had to be stopped.
    He had to risk their wrath, but they would not be the only ones after him.  The FBI and other federal agencies would be anxious to bring him in.  Purveyors of stolen official secrets were not popular in these days of jihadists and international terrorism.
    He had not wanted to involve Jeannine Ryan, but he could trust no one else.  His enclosed note instructed her to use the key only if he did not appear within four days to retrieve it.  If he was still free by that time, he would pick up the key himself.
    He opened a beer and took several swallows.  He settled in a comfortable chair and leaned his head back.  He clicked on the TV.  It had been a long day.
    He needed distraction.
***
    Tom Holder drove into the parking lot of the Hampton Inn in Gainesville, Virginia.  This was the third area motel he and Hugh Byrd had visited since learning about the rental of the blue Accord.  Tom spoke.
    “It’s been two hours.  There’s no Accord here, what are we going to do?”
    “We’re close, I feel it.  Drive to the end of the lot, near those stores.  If Hamm were here, he would park away from the Inn.”
    The car veered left.  Hugh jumped in his seat.
    “That’s it.  There’s a blue Accord and that’s Hamm’s