The Mark of the Assassin

of
    brilliant white light. Then darkness.
    CHAPTER 46.
    McLean, Virginia.
    "THE SECURITY TEAM is off the air," the duty officer said. "Os- bourne
    believes October is on the premises."
    Adrian Carter sat up in bed. "Goddammit."
    "We've alerted local police, and another detail is enroute."
    "They'd better fucking hurry."
    "Yes, sir."
    "I'll be at headquarters in five minutes."
    "Yes, sir."
    "Now, connect me with Monica Tyler."
    "Stand by, sir."
    MICHAEL HAD SLEPT with his clothes on. Elizabeth pulled on a pair of
    gray cotton sweatpants and a beige woolen sweater. Michael slipped on
    his shoes and collected the Browning, the radio and cellular phone, and
    the keypad for the home's security system. The system was activated. The
    alarm would sound if October tried to enter the house. A number would
    read out on the keypad's digital display, showing which door or window
    the intruder had breached. If October tried to break inside the house,
    Michael would instantly know where he was.
    Michael shut off the bedroom lights and led Elizabeth into the darkened
    hallway. They followed the stairs down to the entrance hall. Another
    light burned there. Michael quickly killed it. The stairway to the
    basement was just off the large kitchen. Michael took Elizabeth's arm
    and led her through the darkness. He opened the doorway to the stairs
    and led her down to the basement.
    DELAROCHE AND ASTRID crouched next to the door of the screened porch.
    Delaroche worked a knife inside the crude latch. It gave way after a few
    seconds. They picked their way across the veranda, around overstuffed
    rattan furniture and low tables, to a set of French doors. He tried the
    latch. It was locked. He crouched and worked his lock pick in the
    keyhole. The lock mechanism snapped. Delaroche pushed back the doors,
    and they slipped inside.
    THE HOUSE, IN FACT, HAD three entrances--the main front doorway, the
    rear sun porch, and a small basement doorway on the north side of the
    house, hidden behind a set of recessed steps. Michael and Elizabeth
    moved through the finished rooms of the basement until they reached the
    doorway. The alarm sounded in his hand. Michael quickly killed the tone
    and reset it. October had entered the house through the French doors off
    the living room. A few seconds later the alarm sounded again, then a
    third time. Two motion detectors had been triggered, one in the dining
    room, one in the living room. The detectors were several feet apart.
    Unless October was moving through the house very rapidly it was unlikely
    that he set off both; the house was dark and unfamiliar to him. Michael
    assumed Astrid Vogel was in the house too. He turned to Elizabeth and
    said, "Go to the guest cottage and wait there until the police come."
    "Michael, I don't want to leave you in--"
    "Just do it, Elizabeth," Michael snapped. "If you want to live, just do
    what I say."
    She nodded. "The police will be here in a few minutes. When you see
    them, run for them. It's me he wants, not you. Do you understand me?"
    She nodded. Michael said, "Good."
    He punched in the disarm code and opened the door. Elizabeth kissed his
    cheek and started up the stairs. At the top she paused and looked in all
    directions. The night was pitch-black; she could barely make out the
    faint outline of the guest cottage overlooking the water. She ran across
    the lawn, windblown rain beating against her face, until she reached the
    door of the cottage. She opened the door, stepped inside, then turned
    and took one last look at Michael. The basement door closed, and he was
    gone. She closed the door and locked it, leaving the lights off. Then
    she went to the window and looked in the direction of the front gate.
    IT WAS ASTRID VOGEL, standing in the living room, who spotted something
    moving across the lawn toward the guest cottage--a light-colored
    sweater, a woman, judging by the slightly awkward stride. "Jean-Paul,"
    she whispered, and gestured toward the lawn. "The woman."
    "Take her," Delaroche whispered. Then he laid a hand on her arm and
    said, "Alive, Astrid. She's no good to us dead. And hurry. We don't have
    much time."
    Astrid slipped out the French doors, crossed the veranda, and set off
    across the lawn.
    MICHAEL RESET THE ALARM SYSTEM. He found a rechargeable flashlight
    plugged into an outlet--the senator had flashlights positioned
    throughout the house because of the island's frequent power outages.
    Michael switched on the light and played the beam back and