Detective Danny Cavanaugh 01 - The Brink

standing next to him. They’re looking at something. At what? A map? A book? Past them are parked cars: a red one and a black one. Past that is another government building. It is also white—or gray—and is made of marble. Or is it granite?
    Sydney opened her eyes again. The tree was there, and so was the bland government building. But the man in the blue warm-up suit was really a man in T-shirt and blue jeans. The redhead was really a brunette, and they were examining their video camera, not a book or map. The car colors were both wrong, too. So much for her memory. She was immediately jealous of and intimidated by Danny’s ability for perfect recollection.
    Minutes later they were back where they started in Lafayette Park. Danny sat down on a nearby bench. Sydney sat down next to him.
    “What now?” she asked him.
    He never took his eyes off the White House. “I’ve got an idea.”
    “Are you going to share it with me?”
    Danny tried to ignore her. He extracted the Ziploc bag that contained Sydney’s documents from his waistband. He thumbed through them and then stopped on the last page. He produced a black pen from his back pocket, flipped the page over, and began writing on it. He angled the page away from her so she couldn’t see what he was writing.
    “Danny, please tell me what you’re writing.” Danny said nothing, but continued writing. “Danny, I appreciate all you’ve done to help me, but this isn’t just about you. Now, if you’ve got a plan that has to do with my lawsuit, let’s hear it. Otherwise, put away your pen and hand it over.”
    Danny stopped and capped the pen. “Listen, I’m not trying to be a hero here. But it’s better if you don’t know what’s about to happen. It’ll make your act seem more real.”
    Sydney gripped Danny’s wrist so hard that she hurt her own fingers. “So I’m acting again. Is that your plan?”
    “Sydney, I am asking you to trust me one more time. I know what I’m doing.”
    Sydney stared at him for a long moment. She sighed and let go of his arm. “Yeah, I guess you do. We’ve only escaped violent death a half dozen times or so since I met you,” she said sarcastically. But then she leaned into him and kissed his cheek. As she did, her cap pushed up on her head. She came away from him and tried to adjust it back on her head. Danny stopped her and removed her hat. Then he kissed her on the mouth, letting his lips hang on hers.
    He pulled himself away from her after a few seconds. “For luck,” he breathed. Sydney nodded. Danny took off her sunglasses. Then he took off his own disguise and threw both hats and both pairs of sunglasses in a nearby trash can.
    “Wait right here,” he told her as he stuffed the disposable cell phone Chip had given him into her pocket. He bolted over to the Greenpeace tents and ducked into the middle one.
    Fireworks immediately went off in Sydney’s mind. Now what? She walked over to the tents. As she did, she read the signs that decorated them.
    Stop Butcher-ing the Planet!
    Smog Sucks! Ratify Kyoto!
    One of the smaller signs caught her eye. It was plastered with a collage of the names of well-known foods as well as the logos of not so familiar agricultural companies. Below the collage, there was a phrase in large black letters:

    Say No to GMOs !

    Below that was an explanation of the GMO acronym: genetically modified organisms. Reading the words made Sydney stop in her tracks. She had been genetically modified. The wind was sucked from her lungs. Standing there in front of the White House, she was reminded that she was a socially engineered experiment. She might have dwelled on the subject except for Danny reemerging from the tent. As soon as she saw him, Sydney’s jaw dropped wide open.
    He stuffed the Ziploc bag containing the lawsuit down the front of her pants. Then he jammed the one page that he had written on into her hand.
    “When I tell you to, drop this piece of paper. Got it?” Sydney stared blankly at him. “Sydney! Do you understand what I said?”
    Sydney blinked, and Danny’s instructions registered. “Yes.”
    “Okay. Let’s move.” Danny grabbed her by the arm and pulled her along as they ran in a clumsy mix of pumping legs and arms toward the White House.

Chapter 74
    Jack Butcher had been in the Situation Room since waking up at five this morning. He was lost in half-baked theories and impromptu excuses about how someone was able to launch a shoulder-fired missile at Anthony