Death of an Intern (40 page)

I
hurt, emitting an involuntary low groan. I slowly inched my hand to the back of my head. It came back with blood on it. My blood. Beth piped up. “Let me get her an ice pack.”

“Leave her alone,” Talbot warned. “Frankie, with all your posturing about protecting Rick, you have allowed a workable plan to blow up right in front of you.”

“What plan?” Grayson snapped back.

“George Manchester providing Rick with some companionship.” Talbot turned to Beth, and blurted angrily, “Sit down, Beth.”

I moved my head enough to see Talbot waving her gun around as she spoke.

“You allowed that naive Rausch girl to get involved. You didn't stick to the professionals. Look what you did to Beth last year and what you were doing with Lisa.”

“Donna, I think you better leave,” Grayson urged, “I don't know what stress you're under, but I can handle—”

“Shut up, Frankie!” Talbot spit out. “That's just it, you can't!”

“What the hell has gotten into you!?” Grayson railed.

“I'm making the decisions!” Talbot yelled, waving her gun.

“Donna, look, you and I've done a lot of good things together,” Grayson said, and then turned to Beth. “Please, Beth, let's go to Alexandria and see—”

“No!” Talbot interrupted sharply. “It's too late for that.”

“What's too late?” Frankie questioned.

“Oh my God,” Beth said. “You came to—”

“This is all bullshit.” Talbot said, pointing her gun down at me. “If Wolfe hadn't been here, I would have taken care of what needed taking care of. Now that's changed. She knows too much.”

“We'll deal with it!” Frankie admonished.

“You're right, but not your way. The only way to save Rick is to do it my way.”

“What is your way, Donna?”

“Everything was working fine. Wolfe was a minor problem. But when they found the van—yeah the van—it won't take them long to figure things out, except that they won't know the
who
.” Talbot had taken on a low and menacing tone.

“The
who?
You're not making sense.”

Talbot looked at Frankie. “You've got to go.” She lifted her gun toward Frankie.

Frankie was petrified. “What?”

“Get out of here,” Talbot hissed. “Go to Alexandria.”

“It's the other way around, Donna. You have to leave,” she fired back.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I attempted to prop up on my arm.

“I can't. I've got things to clean up. That's what I do, isn't it?”

“What hit me?” I moaned, now up on one elbow, until Talbot kicked my arm out from under me and I went flat.

“Shut up and stay on the floor.”

“Why the strong-armed stuff?” Carr demanded.

Talbot raged, “This piece of shit has been trying to dirty Rick's name.”

“I can't do anything to him, but you can and are,” I said weakly.

“You butted in once too often, bitch,” Talbot threatened, standing over me with her gun. “Now shut up!”

Grayson erupted, “Donna! Stop this. I don't like her, but leave her alone.”

“Leave her alone? I'm going to get rid of her.”

“No!” Frankie said aghast.

“We've had enough of your bright ideas, Frankie,” Talbot ranted.

“Beth doesn't have to be involved with this.”

Talbot was seething. “She already is. Without her to testify about the van…they won't know who used it, except you. Enough talking. You and Beth pick Wolfe up and sit her on the sofa.”

Beth stood, but Frankie didn't move.

“Do it. Move her.”

Beth and Grayson got me on my feet. I felt a wave of dizziness flow over me and I slumped in their grasp and they put me down on the sofa.

“Beth, you sit next to her. We,” she gestured at Grayson, “need to talk.”

Grayson moved warily to Donna. “What?”

Beth was steadying me from keeling over sideways.

Donna whispered, but her adrenaline projected it. “I've got a way we can do this. We can waste them both here. Make it look like Carr did Wolfe in, then committed suicide, and we get out of here. The gun stays, it's untraceable.”

Beth and I cringed, now holding on to each other.

N
ielssen was crouched at the side of the front door to Carr's townhouse. She whispered, “It's gotten awfully quiet in there.”
“Visitor is giving the orders,” Lookout reported. “Sparrow and One picked up the reporter and put her on the sofa. One is sitting next to her. Visitor and Sparrow are across the room talking.”

Davis took charge. “Right. Rear team, you ready?”

“Roger.”

Agent Nielssen whispered to Davis. “Sir? I've got a key for the front door. On three, the rear team will pound on the back door. I'll open this one and go in low left. You two go over the top. Okay?”

Davis nodded. “Roger.”

“Lookout,” Nielssen asked, “what's the position of the shooter?”

“On your right across from the sofa with Sparrow.”

“Jasper,” Nielssen said to an agent next to her. “When we go, break in the window and shoot into the ceiling.”

“I
'm killing her?” Carr shrieked, shaking her head. “No way!” “She caused this,” Talbot yelled. “It's not your call, Beth. Now get over here!”

When Beth didn't move, Talbot came at her. Frankie grabbed Talbot's free arm.

The Secret Service agent instinctively pivoted, her gun arm automatically snapped into a shooting pose pointed at Grayson's head. Grayson reflexively stumbled back against the wall out of shock and fear.

“Don't ever do that again,” Talbot sneered.

“No, Donna, don't,” Beth yelled, standing. “I'm coming.”

I wobbled on the sofa and tilted over when I lost my support. I struggled to right myself.

Talbot heard the motion and turned on Beth.

“Easy, Donna, I'm doing what you asked.”

“Donna! You're the serial killer?” I cried.

“And you are going to be the next pregnant woman to die!” she said viciously. Talbot glared at Grayson. “Can't you understand? We have to save Rick.”

My adrenaline was pumping hard. I had no choice. I was going to have to make a break for it.

“We gotta do this now!” Talbot ordered.

“Frankie,” Beth pleaded, “you've got to help me. I've kept my promise to you and Rick. What more could I do?”

“Shut up!” Talbot spat, backing slowly away from both women, triangulating on them so that her back was not to either. “You've been implicated, Beth. Wolfe found you out…you felt trapped and shot her.”

Talbot's eyes were slits, her demeanor steely, her face hard; she was in combat mode.

“No, Donna!” Frankie screamed.

“This bitch has to die!” Talbot erupted venomously. “It's only too bad we can't do it the slow way, which is what she deserves. Get over here, Beth.”

I blurted, “I'm sorry, Frankie. I thought it was you.”

“Me?” She whirled on me. “I didn't kill any—”

“You idiots, I did the snitchy-bitch in. She was going to bring down one of the finest men alive. Don't you see? He is going to become the President.”

Talbot's manic attention was now focused on me. “You are a small sacrifice for a great man. I only wish I had more time with you, Wolfe. Take your baby while you watched, but this will have to do.” She raised her gun.

Grayson flung herself at Talbot sending the two of them sprawling. Talbot's gun went off. I slouched on the sofa and rolled onto the floor. Talbot freed herself from Grayson and lurched to her feet, gun in hand. “Can't you see this must—”

A huge noise erupted from the rear of the house. Talbot swung toward the rear, going into a shooter's crouch as simultaneously the front door burst open and people were screaming, “FBI! Beth, Laura, get down! Drop the gun! FBI!” The front window was smashed in. Shots were fired, more orders were screamed. I was flat on the floor with Beth alongside me. I heard a splat on the wall above my head.

There was a heavy thud on the floor. The yelling suddenly stopped, followed only by low voices giving instructions. I heard my name. It was Max who was leaning over me. “Were you hit?”

“No, where…?”

“Later.”

He sat me up against the sofa. Mr. Brown was kneeling alongside Talbot who had fallen a few feet from Beth and me.

“She's dead,” I heard Brown say. He pulled out his cell phone.

“Medics!” I heard a female agent call out.

Max looked at Beth. “Is it you?”

“No,” an agent said, “It's Grayson.”

I broke down and bawled.

“Take it easy, it's over.” Max held me.

“Grayson…shot?” I asked.

“Seems so.”

“She saved my life,” I said meekly.

Everyone was efficiently going about their tasks in an eerie quiet. Beth stood up. It was surreal, everything seemed in slow motion. Thank God, I had Max. Thank God, I had Jerry. “I'm sorry, Max.”

“Nothing to be sorry about.”

“Yes, there is. I wish you could take me home and that I could sleep for a month.”

“Excuse me. Who are you? Have I mistaken you for a newspaper reporter I know?”

I gasped for breath.

“Can I have some water here,” he called out.

He lightly gripped my shoulder. “Take it easy.”

Somebody handed him a bottle that he opened and held for me to drink from. I took a couple of long swallows.

“I was right on all my speculations, except for the
who
.”

“I know,” he said, as he wiped my drooling mouth.

I was slowly regaining my equilibrium.

“I saw something absolutely amazing, Max. Frankie Grayson saved my life. That's real. That's not speculation. That's a debt I may never be able to repay.”

I could see two medics tending to Frankie lying on her back a few feet from me.

“You've got to tell them, Max. Tell them she saved my life. She never wanted me dead, just out of her life,” I sobbed. “When Talbot's gun went off, I thought Frankie was dead.”

T
he Vice President's SUV pulled up to the townhouse in Alexandria, but to a much different reception than Rick Grayson anticipated. FBI agents in slickers with the big yellow letters on their backs were intermingled with the dark suits of the Secret Service.

It was a somber scene.

The senior Secret Service agent and an FBI special agent accompanied the Vice President inside where George Manchester and Ralph Morgan awaited him. Those two men had no foreknowledge of what they were about to be told.

The Vice President was debriefed. He broke down.