The Bin Laden Plot

Khalila didn’t respond, but Harrison noticed her grip on the steering wheel tighten.

“I suggest we move on from this topic,” she said. “Here’s the situation. As long as you don’t learn who I am, you can trust me completely. If you do, our agreement is void, and you’ve been forewarned.”

She extended her right hand. “Deal?”

Harrison recalled the original agreement they had struck in Sochi, when he extended his hand and Khalila ignored it, simply nodding before departing. At least their relationship was making progress, however slight. He didn’t like Khalila’s caveat — If you learn who I am, our agreement is void — but decided the arrangement was suitable for the time being.

He shook her hand. “Deal.”

* * *

Khalila turned in to a neighborhood of single-family homes, then onto Marquand Drive. After a few houses, the road curved sharply to the left, leading to a cul-de-sac a few houses later. Up ahead, a woman waited in the driver’s seat of a gray sedan parked beside the curb. Khalila stopped behind the vehicle.

Harrison and Khalila emerged from their car as the woman stepped from hers. She was a plainclothes detective who showed them her badge.

“Detective Caroline Rice,” she said as they shook hands and Harrison and Khalila introduced themselves.

Rice filled them in on the details: the victim’s name along with his current and former occupations, date and time of his murder, plus other specifics, including the bullet size and entry location in Nagle’s head. No cartridge case was found.

Harrison assimilated the information and surveyed the neighborhood, concluding that the assassin had likely been positioned down the street behind them, probably at the bend in the road. It was a fairly upscale neighborhood, but he noted a few houses with security company placards in the front yard. He turned to Rice.

“I’d check with the residents to see if they’ve got any security cameras that might have captured the event. My guess is the perpetrator fired from a car parked at the curve in the road.”

“We’re one step ahead of you,” Rice replied, “and you’re right on both counts. We were able to collect video from a doorbell camera down the street.”

She retrieved a cell phone from her jacket pocket and pulled up a short video clip, which she showed to Harrison and Khalila. A man was parked across the street, lifting a rifle to his shoulder as he placed his eye to the scope. The video was grainy and provided only a side view of the man’s face, but Harrison immediately recognized him.

“It’s Lonnie Mixell.”

17 ARLINGTON, VIRGINIA

On the western side of the Pentagon, Christine O’Connor walked along the outer-ring hallway, headed toward an office between corridors four and five. A series of briefings on programs the CIA was involved in had just wrapped up, and Christine had decided to see how Secretary Verbeck was doing following her close call at National Harbor.

Christine stepped into the secretary of the Navy’s reception area, where she was greeted by Navy Captain Andy Hoskins, who disappeared into an adjoining office, returning a few seconds later, holding the door open for Christine.

“The secretary will see you now.”

Christine entered Verbeck’s office as the secretary of the Navy, seated at her desk, rose to greet her, motioning toward a nearby conference table. Both women took their seats as Brenda welcomed the CIA director.

“Thank you for taking time out of your busy day to stop by. What can I do for you?”

“Actually,” Christine replied, “I was wondering what I could do for you. It must have been terrifying for you outside the Gaylord.”

“It was. Everything happened so fast. At first, I was just shocked at what happened to John McNeil, hearing the rifle shot and watching him fall to the ground. Then I was shoved into the SUV and evacuated to safety. It wasn’t until later that I realized how lucky I’d been. I have to admit, there were a few minutes where my hands were shaking uncontrollably.”

“That’s perfectly understandable.”

“Do you know who’s responsible? I haven’t been briefed. I’ve been avoiding the issue, trying to focus on other things.”

“We do. He’s a former SEAL named Lonnie Mixell, the same man responsible for the Kazan plot and the attempt on the president’s life a few months ago.”

“I thought Mixell was killed.”

“So did we, until we spotted him on a surveillance camera at National Harbor, moments after the assassination attempt.”

“Is he working alone, or are there others?”

“We suspect he’s working alone. We also think there’s something else going on. Whatever he’s into has bigger implications.”

“I hope you track him down quickly, then.”

“We’re working on it. The agency is assisting the FBI with all resources available. If you’d like to be informed of what we learn along the way, I can keep you up to date and also pass the request to Directors Guisewhite and Rodgaard,” she said, referring to the directors of the FBI and National Intelligence.