Derrick.Storm.01.A.Brewing.Storm.2012 by Castle Richard

Author:Castle, Richard [Castle, Richard]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Storm left the hotel shortly after 12 P.M. in the rented, white Ford E-series commercial van that the concierge had arranged for him. The van had seats for a driver and a passenger, but its cargo bay was empty. There were no windows except for the windshield and the front doors. After driving through the Virginia suburbs for a half hour to make certain that he wasn’t being followed, Storm bought four women’s gym bags at a sporting goods store and then returned to the District. He drove to the Thomas Jefferson Memorial, located at the southern end of the National Mall, adjacent to the Tidal Basin in West Potomac Park. He parked the van there and flagged down a taxi, which brought him back to his hotel with the gym bags.

Storm grabbed a shower and dressed in loafers, khaki pants, a blue shirt, and a navy sports coat. He tucked his Glock .40-caliber semiautomatic into the special holster that he wore in the center of his back and made certain he had extra ammunition. Now ready, he went downstairs and gave the valet his parking stub. A few minutes later, Storm was driving east toward the Capitol in the Taurus sedan that Jones had rented for him. He was scheduled to meet Samantha Toppers and Senator Windslow in the Dirksen SOB at 4 P.M.

Toppers was pacing nervously inside the senator’s inner office when he arrived. Senator Windslow was seated at his desk.

“I’ve called the president at Riggs Bank and arranged for Samantha to have access to the safety deposit box,” Windslow said. “Did you get the gym bags?”

“They’re in the car,” Storm replied.

Windslow suddenly shouted at Toppers. “Stop fidgeting, girl! And make sure you have your damn cell phone with you.”

“I’ve got to use the bathroom,” she stammered. She ducked into the senator’s private toilet that was connected to his office.

“You haven’t told the FBI about this, have you?” Windslow growled.

“No. I told you that I’d keep it confidential.”

“Does Jedidiah know?”

“No.”

“Good.”

A still visibly frantic Toppers joined them. “I’m not sure I can go through with this!” she said. “What do you think is going to happen tonight?”

“They’ll make us drive around the city,” Storm answered. “We’ll be sent down one-way streets and then they’ll have us reverse our route so they can see if anyone is following us. They’ll probably select routes that don’t have much traffic so it will be obvious if we are being tailed. And when they are convinced that we are in the clear, they’ll have us make the deliveries.”

“What if they take us hostage?” she asked. Storm noticed that her hands were trembling.

“Don’t worry, dear,” Windslow said. “You have him to protect you—and my six million.”

Storm added, “I’ll make certain nothing happens to you. Let’s go.”

Riggs National Bank was located about a block from the White House and could be seen on the back of a ten-dollar bill, behind the U.S. Treasury Building. Naomi Chatts, a senior bank official, met Storm and Toppers at the entrance and escorted them to the safety deposit vault in the building’s basement.

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