Blowout

pretty straightforward—he saw her speaking with Danny O’Malley last Friday, and he believed Danny was confiding in her.”
    Callie said, “She walked with him for a block or so when they left the Supreme Court to go to lunch.”
    “And Günter saw them together,” Savich said. “Okay, we need to get back to the law clerks again just in case one of them knows more than they’ve told us. Also, we need to go back to my neighborhood today to canvass a wider radius. When you have your assignments, we’ll head out again.”
    When the conference room cleared, Savich approached Mr. Maitland and Director Mueller. “Thank you for staying. I’d like your permission to let the world know that Elaine LaFleurette isn’t at our house any longer. Two reasons: first, for Sean’s safety, and second”—Savich searched the faces—“I think it’s time we became proactive. We may be able to flush Günter out. We can select a volunteer to impersonate Fleurette, make her visible on the grounds at Quantico. Most assassins would never risk a kill at Quantico, but Günter?”
    Ben said, “For Günter, it would be the ultimate high for him. Trying to kill Fleurette on the grounds of the safest compound in the world? I don’t think he could pass that up.”
    “He couldn’t,” Savich said. “He’d have to use a rifle. Let’s say he’s got only average skill as a sniper. With a good sniper rifle, say a gas-operated semiautomatic, he could hit his target at about twenty-four hundred feet. If he’s an expert, that goes up to three thousand feet. That’s a very long distance, well off the grounds.
    “The new sniper rifles are even more accurate than those we used five years ago. For example, the Yugoslavian M-76 has a longer, heavier barrel and a modified stock that’s more ergonomic. It’s chambered in a much better long-range caliber than the calibers of the rifles it’s derived from. I’d wager he’d use one as good as that. Could he hit a person at three thousand feet? I wouldn’t want to bet against it.”
    Director Mueller said slowly, “We’d be putting agents’ lives at risk. And to have agents and SWAT teams trying to cover that huge area twenty-four/seven, the necessary manpower boggles the mind. There’s lots of egress, roads and trails both. We have to assume Günter is an expert. Have you mapped out the terrain where he’d have his best shot, Savich?”
    Savich nodded. “Yes, we have. Unfortunately there’s more than just one.”
    Director Mueller looked toward Jimmy Maitland, who nodded. “It’s a big risk, Jimmy. But I’d bet on our snipers over just about anyone. Can we have enough of our guys out there to keep a reasonable guard over our agents?”
    “We can try,” Jimmy Maitland said. “I can get the Washington, D.C., SWAT team and the Hostage Rescue Team at Quantico. Also, we can enlist SWAT teams from all the local cop shops. No doubt everyone wants to bring this asshole down. But there’s no way to keep it secret—we can’t expect to hide that many men from view. Günter will know it’s a trap. I don’t think there’s anything we can do about that.”
    Savich grinned at them. “We’re not even going to worry about it. I want him to find out. Don’t you see? Günter will see it as a direct challenge. He’ll want to spend time out at Quantico finding the firing spot he wants, locating the positions of our snipers, figuring out how to get away. Oh yes, I’m counting on Günter to thumb his nose at us.
    “Okay, the first step is to let Günter know exactly where Fleurette will be. Callie, you want to be a turncoat and reveal Fleurette’s hideout to the Post ?”
    Callie laughed. “My editor will wet himself. It’ll be in the evening paper.” She punched Ben in the arm. “Hey, you think this might mean a Pulitzer?”
    “Nah, this’ll probably just save your job,” Ben said.
    They all laughed. Director Mueller stood up. He looked at all of them in turn. “I wish us all luck with this.”
    When the conference room door closed behind the director, Savich said, “Okay, we’ve got a plan. We’re finally acting, not just reacting.”
    “Let’s get it done, boyos,” said Jimmy Maitland.

CHAPTER
33
    Q UANTICO
L ATE M ONDAY AFTERNOON
    S OME DEAD LEAVES MOVED , three fingers gave a little wave. Dave Dempsey heard Joe Boyle’s low-pitched voice. “Hey, did you tell your wife you might tangle with Günter?”
    Dave whispered back, “I wanted to, but she isn’t