Chapter 8

Lee followed Amanda's lead as they circulated among the various booths at the craft sale, booths offering everything from crocheted bookmarks and folksy sayings embroidered on dish towels to painted wood lawn ornaments, the kind that portrayed Farmer Jones' derrière and were meant to hold the garden hose. When he saw those, Lee leaned over and whispered in Amanda's ear, "Where are the flamingos? There ought to be flamingos!"

Amanda couldn't help chuckling herself, but she gave him a swift jab with her elbow when she caught him beginning to double over in laughter. She rolled her eyes at him and moved on to the next booth, secretly thankful that he'd broken the ice.

Finally, they worked their way to the far end of the labyrinth, where Amanda spotted Mr. Bauer. He was busy at the moment, selling a beautiful handmade quilt and graciously thanking his customer. "You enjoy that quilt, now, and be sure to take one of Mrs. Ferguson's cards. Thank you again!" he said, as the customer walked away with her treasure.

Amanda cast an admiring gaze over a blue and white wedding ring patterned quilt, lightly touching the delicate patchwork. She held it up and turned the corner over to inspect the painstaking handiwork, waiting to be sure they didn't have any spectators. She leaned her hands on the table and said, "Mr. Bauer? You probably don't remember me, but. . ."

The old gentleman looked over her face as she spoke, then lifted a finger to interject, "Oh yes, yesterday at the Lincoln, you came to the bookstore, yes? And you asked where you could find a. . ."

"A phone, yes," Amanda continued for him.

Bauer asked, "Did you find it all right?"

"Oh yes, I found it," she answered with a sardonic grin, tipping her head to the side as she remembered what else she'd found in the bargain. "Mr. Bauer," she began again, casting another quick glance around the area before going on. "My name is Amanda King, and this is my friend, Lee Stetson," she said with a wave of her hand.

Lee nodded to their new friend and reached out to shake his hand. He flashed his badge quickly and replaced it in his jacket pocket, then said quietly, "Mr. Bauer, is there someplace we can talk?"

Otto Bauer's hands trembled slightly, but Amanda noticed that his face seemed more relaxed than when they'd first seen him. He motioned for the two of them to follow him as he walked toward the back of the bleachers. "I can't be away for long, but how may I help you?" he said, keeping his voice low and looking back toward the quilt table.

"Well, actually, we were hoping we might be able to help each other," Lee said. "You have a nephew visiting with you, from East Germany, Erich, correct?"

Otto hesitated before answering, "Y-yes, my nephew Erich is here."

"We had reason to believe that he came here as part of the Lightning Flash terrorist group," Lee began, holding up a hand to stop Bauer's threatened outburst, "but. . .we have since discovered that he may have been forced into that role. . .and, because of your past career, the group might have drafted you, too."

Amanda added with a voice full of kindness and concern, "Mr. Bauer, we know what a good life you've lived since coming to this country, and how you're actively involved with good causes, and you're well respected in the community. We can't imagine that you'd be involved in anything like this, not without. . ."

"Not without serious pressure from outside, " Lee finished for her. "What can you tell us, Mr. Bauer?"

Otto's shoulders drooped, and he looked away for a few seconds before replying, "I honestly don't know all of the circumstances of Erich's recruitment, but I do know why he is here, still working for that demon. Three weeks ago, they kidnapped Erich's mother, Hilda Bauer, in Dresden. She went out to the market one day, and never came home. Heller called Erich that night, threatening to kill Hilda if he failed to cooperate with their plans."

Lee and Amanda locked eyes briefly, each of them silently acknowledging the gravity of the situation. Lee looked to Otto again as he asked, "Has Heller tried to involve you in any way?"

"I'm afraid so, yes. You see, I still have a small chemistry lab in my basement, and Heller has raided my supply cabinets. And then, of course, there is my part time job."

"At the Lincoln Memorial?" Amanda prompted. "What did they want from you there, sir?"

"That is very strange, ma'am." Otto shrugged his shoulders, adding, "All they seemed to want was to borrow my keys to the downstairs storeroom."

Lee looked to Amanda, sliding a hand down her arm as he commented, "I guess we'd better have a look at that storeroom." He returned his attention to Otto Bauer, asking, "Is there another way out of here? We'd better be going." Otto pointed the way before waving goodbye and returning to the quilts, just as a new potential customer came to the table.

*****

After he'd made a call to the Agency to tell Billy what they'd learned from "Uncle Otto", Lee pulled the 'Vette out of the parking lot and started the drive from Alexandria to DC. He took a quick look at his watch, saying, "Amanda, it's getting late. Are you sure you don't want me to take you back to the Agency first?"

She checked her own watch and told him, "Oh no, Lee. It's not even five o'clock yet, and I told Mother this morning I might have to work late tonight. Besides, we've come this far, and I'd kinda like to see this through, you know?"

"Yeah, I'll just bet you would," he answered with a slow nod, smiling to himself at her persistence. He caught himself wondering if her mother was still buying the 'editing room' story, when he heard her call his name.

"Lee? I sure hope they find Erich's mother in time."

"Me, too," Lee agreed. "Billy told me he'd already sent some of our people to check up on anyone who might be close to Erich Bauer. . .family, neighbors, close friends. So. . . hopefully, they'll find her real soon."

"Right," Amanda replied, as they pulled into a parking space close to the Memorial.

The uniformed Park Service security guard was there at the base of the steps waiting for them. Lee flashed his badge and made the necessary introductions, and the guard led them around to the lower level entrance. He opened the door marked "Storeroom - Authorized Personnel Only" and led the way into a vast, wide open space.

Lee and Amanda took their time, each looking high and low in the relatively small area that appeared to be used for storage. In the corner closest to the doorway, there were a few tall metal shelves stacked with books, pamphlets and other supplies for the bookstore upstairs. Amanda stooped down to look at a large bag on the bottom shelf. "What do you make of this, Lee?" she asked, reaching inside the bag and picking up a small handful of crystals. "It's rock salt, the kind you use to make homemade ice cream, you know?"

"No. . .I mean, I'm not all that well versed in making ice cream," Lee said, shrugging his shoulders, as he kept walking past the shelves. At the end of the last shelf, he stopped and turned around to face her. "Wait. . .what are all these coolers doing here?" He counted six large picnic coolers, stacked three-high.

With extreme care, Lee lifted the lid off of one of the coolers, only to find it half filled with ice water, with two large glass beakers floating in it. A thermometer rested in one of the two containers. Amanda came closer and touched Lee's arm as she said, "Ice. Remember, Lee? Francine said our people had tracked some of the terrorists buying lots and lots of ice. But why would they need rock salt and ice?"

"Well, I think it's safe to say they're not making ice cream," Lee answered with a hint of irony. He replaced the lid and took hold of her hand to start them toward the open doorway. "It's the nitro, Amanda! They've already mixed up the nitroglycerine. I just hope we're not too late."

On the way out, they thanked the guard and Lee gave him his business card, asking him to let them know about any suspicious comings and goings in and around the Memorial.

As they made their way back to the 'Vette, Lee noticed that Amanda had picked up something on the way out of the storage area. "What's that you've got there?" he asked.

"This? It's one of those soft-sided backpacks, you know, like the ones some students use," she answered, as she hurried to keep up with his long strides. "There were three or four of these on the bottom shelf, next to the rock salt. Oh, look, Lee! There's a patch, with a lightning bolt on it, see?"

"Yeah. . .", he said, drawing the word out slowly. He stopped their forward progress and looked off into the distance for a second, then turned back to look into her eyes. "Those backpacks, Amanda. . .what if they're planning to use those to plant several small bombs all around the Memorial, instead of planting one or two large ones?"

Amanda shuddered at the thought of any bombs, but she said, "I suppose they could, Lee, but how will we be able to stop them?"

"I don't know. . .not yet," Lee admitted, "but I do have a few ideas. Come on, let's get back to the Agency."

After he helped her into the car and started to walk around to his side, Amanda smiled. She had to admire his 'man with the plan' attitude. When he was like this, she believed he could do almost anything.

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