Sandstorm by Alan L. Lee Read Free Book Online Page B

New York Avenue. To save time and aggravation during the morning rush, his driver was avoiding the backlog of the Beltway. This route would take them along K Street Northwest, a straight shot to the Whitehurst Freeway that accessed the George Washington Parkway and its gradual climb to Langley.
    “Luis, no rush,” Peters said. “In fact, let’s take the scenic route.”
    Having grown up in the District and being an avid bike rider, Luis had been a human navigation center long before technology caught up. He acknowledged Peters’s request by switching lanes through heavy traffic just in time to make a left-hand turn onto North Capitol Street Northeast. Like Peters, he was single, and every now and then, a private perk on company time was a welcome thing. It was shortly after eight in the morning on what promised to be another spring gem in the nation’s capital. The various Metro stops would be emptying the District’s vast female workforce (Union Station was a gold mine) and Congress was in session, all of which guaranteed a beauty pageant.
    With the heavy traffic load, they had no choice but to coast around the House and Senate buildings. Peters was impressed with his driver’s innate knowledge. “Something tells me you’ve done this before.”
    “Yes, sir,” was the response as a shapely brunette in a floral dress crossed in front of them at a stop sign. “I certainly have.”
    Rolling into the heart of the District along Massachusetts Avenue, Peters took note of the time. Sadly, this distraction would have to come to an end. There was much work to be done. Once at Langley, he’d spend a large chunk of time getting briefed by legal before having to return to the District for a late-morning sit-down with Janway’s husband at his firm. They had debated sending a legal representative with him, but decided that doing so would send the wrong message. In the final analysis, Champion felt Peters’s down-to-earth disposition would make the sympathy he expressed believable and possibly get Paul Janway to relax somewhat. If legal teams got involved and motions started flying back and forth, everyone would lose.
    The sight of a Starbucks ahead reminded Peters that he had yet to get his morning latte. He knew that by now Champion would be on at least his third cup of coffee, so he’d brownnose it and get his boss some quality ground beans. The man did love his coffee.
    “Drop me off at the Starbucks on the next block,” Peters requested. There was absolutely no place to park, so Luis stopped the vehicle in traffic and was more than willing to double park for as long as it took, no matter how many angry looks or horns he had to endure. Peters told him the dedication was unnecessary. Grabbing the door handle, he said, “Shouldn’t take too long, so just drive around the block. No need to piss people off. Do you want anything, Luis?”
    It was the second time this morning Luis was impressed with his passenger. This had been only the third time in over a year he’d chauffeured Mr. Peters around. Luis was flattered that the man had cared enough to remember his name, let alone be considerate enough to ask if he was thirsty or hungry.
    “No thanks, sir. But I appreciate you asking. I’ll just circle a couple of times and pick you back up in a minute.”
    Exciting the vehicle, Peters followed procedure and buttoned his sport coat, in order to conceal the holstered weapon he would probably never have to fire. He entered the noisy, packed coffeehouse. It was always amusing to him how a company like this had found the formula of appealing to people’s laziness and desires in one successful swoop. Too busy to make coffee at home? Or too lazy? Whatever the answer, it added up to profit.
    There were so many people engaged in their own distractions that Peters, trying to pay attention to the line moving, totally missed the stunning blonde passing by him on her way out. He did manage to casually catch a glimpse of her from