A FEW MINUTES before the alarms went off, the public tour of the U.S. Capitol was running behind schedule. So Conrad was still inside the original north wing, impatiently standing outside the Old Supreme Court chamber, staring at a plaque that read: Beneath this tablet is the original cornerstone for this building.
Like most things coming out of Washington, D.C., the plaque wasn't entirely true, as the pleasant docent explained to the group, which included a dozen Boy Scouts from Wyoming.
"The plaque on the wall refers to the tablet on the floor before you, and the tablet on the floor only marks the spot where a former Architect of the Capitol once believed the cornerstone resided."
Conrad looked down at the stone, which was about four feet wide and two feet tall and embedded into the floor, and read the engraving:
"So we've got plaques commemorating stones in commemoration of other stones," muttered the scoutmaster next to Conrad in the back as the group finally headed to the crypt. "Am I missing something?"
"Just your federal tax dollars," Conrad replied and looked at his watch. The Capitol Police were probably already sending text alerts to higher-ups and it was all going to trickle down in a very loud display of alarms any second now.
The tour ended at the crypt under the rotunda, where George Washington was supposed to be buried. It was a vast chamber with 40 massive Doric columns of Virginia sandstone, upon which rested the rotunda and dome above, much like America itself rested on Washington. In the center of the black marble floor was a white starburst.
"This crypt is the heart of Washington, D.C., and the end of our tour," the docent said. "Following Pierre L'Enfant's design, the city's four quadrants all originate at the U.S. Capitol. The starburst on the floor of this crypt is the center."
The starburst marked what was to be a window into the tomb of George Washington beneath the crypt. The idea was that Washington could look up from his tomb and ultimately see his glorified self in heaven as painted on the ceiling of the capitol dome. Only Washington wasn't in the tomb below-his widow Martha had insisted he be buried at the couple's Mount Vernon estate.
As the tourists took turns standing on the starburst, Conrad drifted off to the wide marble staircase nearby and walked down to the subbasement level of the Capitol, passing several glass-enclosed offices packed like mouse cages.
He took an immediate right back under the stairs and passed a sign that read "No visitors allowed," just as the public alarms went off.
Now he had to move fast. He had only minutes to find the cornerstone before the Haz-Mat teams reached the subbasement levels.
He glanced back at the small warren of offices behind him. Staffers, mostly scruffy middle-aged types with PDAs, were shaking their heads, gathering belongings and heading for the exits. Conrad proceeded up a few crumbling stone steps, passing a nuclear fallout shelter sign as he entered a long, yellow brick tunnel.
He pulled out his modified smartphone and looked at the screen with the schematics and GPS tracker. Conrad was the white flashing dot in the maze.
At the end of the tunnel was a black iron gate like something out of a medieval church, and beyond the gate the tomb intended for George and Martha Washington. The only thing inside the tomb was the catafalque, the structure on which the corpse of Abraham Lincoln, the first president to die in office, rested when he lay in state for public viewing in the rotunda after his assassination.
Conrad turned to his right and saw the rust-colored access door he was looking for. It was marked: