CHAPTER FIVE
6:51 a.m. Eastern Standard Time
Headquarters of the Special Response Team
McLean, Virginia
Not even 7 o’clock, and there were half a dozen private cars in the parking lot, to go with the four black agency SUVs. The lot had already been plowed once, and a groundskeeper was out snow-blowing the walkways.
That’s what Luke liked to see—people ahead of the game. Technically, the place didn’t open until nine.
He held his identification to the scanner, and the big glass front doors unlocked. He stepped out of the blowing snow and into the main atrium. It was open and airy, with tall bamboo trees reaching toward the three-story ceiling. Everything was new and beautiful and high-tech. A stone waterfall greeted people as they entered, etched into the stone a message from Abraham L
