Kitty Goes to Washington

by Carrie Vaughn

  The longer I sat at the hearing without doing anything, the more nervous I got. I’d be shaking by the time I finally got up there to testify.

  Cormac stayed in the back, leaning by the door, where he could keep an eye on the whole room. When the committee members left out the back and the audience was breaking up to leave, he came to our row and sat beside Ben.

  “Has it been going like this the whole time?”

  Ben crossed his arms and leaned back. “No. They’ve been totally businesslike until now. I wonder if they’ve lost interest.”

  I pouted. “That doesn’t matter, they still have to let me talk. I drove all the way out here, I’ve been sitting here for three days—could they really not let me talk?”

  “Theoretically, they can do anything they want,” Ben said.

  Case in point: one of Senator Duke’s aides, a young man looking stiff and uncomfortable in his suit, came down the aisle toward us. I guessed he was Duke’s aide—the senator had returned to the room and watched us closely from the side of the benches. The aide only glanced at Ben and me, then leaned in to whisper to Cormac.

  “The senator would like a word with you, if you don’t mind.” He waited, then, like he expected to escort the bounty hunter that very moment.

  Cormac deliberately picked himself up out of the chair, taking his time, then followed the aide to see Duke. The reason for the summons became clear at once. Duke didn’t even need a microphone to be heard.

  “You didn’t tell me you were friendly with her!”

  If Cormac answered, he kept his voice subdued, and I didn’t hear him.

  Duke replied, “Does conflict of interest mean anything to you?”

  He apparently didn’t know Cormac very well. Even I knew the answer to that one.

  “You’re fired! You’re off security! I want you out of this building!”

  With as little concern as he’d shown strolling up there, Cormac walked back, wearing a wry smile.

  “So sue a guy for trying to make an easy buck,” he said.

  Ben asked, “Could we? Sue, I mean. Is there a breach of contract?”

  “No,” Cormac said, shaking his head. “I took a kill fee.”

  Ben hesitated, then said, “Kill fee. That’s funny.”

  “No, it’s not,” I said, interrupting. “That’s not funny at all.”

  Too bad they were both grinning. I gave a long-suffering sigh.

  “Come on,” Ben said. “We’d better get you out of here.”

  Flemming left just ahead of us. He’d tucked his briefcase under his arm, ducked his head, and strode out of the room like he was late for something. His gaze flickered over us as he passed; we were all staring at him.

  “Who’s that guy?” Cormac nodded after him.

  “Dr. Paul Flemming,” I said. “He heads the Center for the Study of Paranatural Biology. The committee spent the first two days grilling him.”

  “He a straight shooter?”

  “Not in the least. I went to his office this morning and found him shredding a stack of documents. Just try to get a clear answer from him.”

  “Used to working under the radar. Going crazy now with the spotlight on him. He looks the type.” Ben nodded in agreement.

  I said, “What I want to know is: what’s he hiding?”

  Cormac pursed his lips thoughtfully. “You really want to know? We could find out.”

  “How? I’ve tried talking to him. I even had him on the show.”

  Ben said, “I’ve pulled everything on him I could—military record, academic record. He’s got this scientific veneer over everything he does. Talks a lot, uses big words, doesn’t say anything.”

  “We could break into his office.”

  I hushed Cormac. “Are you out of your mind?” He was talking like this in a government building. I looked around, but no one seemed to have heard.

  “You know I can do it,” he said. “Especially since it looks like I’m not busy for the next couple days after all.”

  He could do it. I didn’t know where he learned how to do things like breaking into radio stations and government buildings, but he could do it.

  Cormac could probably learn more in a couple of hours of breaking-and-entering than I had in months of wheedling. He grinned, because my hesitation was all the confirmation he needed to go ahead with the plan.

  “Officially, I’m not hearing any of this,” Ben said. “Unofficially, be sure to wear gloves.”

  Cormac huffed. “I think I’ve just been insulted.”

  “I’m only saying.” Ben squeezed past us to the door. “You kids have fun.”

  Cormac turned to me. “Where’s this guy’s office?”

  “Bethesda. At the Magnuson Clinical Center, in the basement.”

  “Show up there at about four. Go inside the building, I’ll be watching for you.”

  “Four—in the morning?” I said.

  “Four this afternoon,” Cormac said.

  “You want to do this in broad daylight?”

  “Do you trust me or not?”

  If he really wanted to shoot me, he’d had half a dozen chances. And I still couldn’t answer that question. I swallowed a lump in my throat. “Do I really have to be there?”

  “You’re the one who knows what you want to find.”

  Ben said to me once that Cormac wasn’t a crusader. He wasn’t a werewolf hunter because he hated werewolves, or had a religious beef against them like Duke. Rather, he liked to see how close he could walk to the edge without falling off. He didn’t have any loyalty to the government, the people who hired him, or anyone else.

  Cormac was only planning this to see if he could. For him, it was a challenge.

  “All right. Four o’clock this afternoon.” I sighed, hoping to still my pounding heart.

  “Bring gloves,” he said, then stood and walked away.

  This was a bad, bad idea. I knew it in my gut. You didn’t just go breaking into government buildings in the best of times, and this wasn’t the best of times. But if I didn’t show, Cormac might break into Flemming’s office without me. If he learned anything juicy, he’d keep the information from me out of spite.

  I had to go.

  I drove my car from the alley around the corner and found Luis waiting outside Alette’s town house. He casually leaned on the wrought-iron fence that divided the property from the sidewalk. By all appearances he looked like he was out enjoying the unseasonable sunshine, pausing during a stroll. I pulled up to the curb in front of him, parked, and got out.

  He beamed at me. He had a generous smile and sparkling eyes. My stomach fluttered.

  “You’re a hard person to track down,” he said brightly. “I hoped to find you outside the Senate building, but you were already gone.”

  I winced in apology. I hated the idea of him running all over town after me—then again, it was awfully flattering. “I gave you my cell number, right? You should have called.”

  He shrugged. “Chasing you is more fun.”

  Spoken like a true predator. He stepped toward me, looking like he was getting ready to pin me against the car. Part of me wanted to dodge, to keep the chase going for a little longer. But I let him put his hands on my hips and lean forward for a kiss. I held his arms and pulled him close.

  I glanced over his shoulder at the windows of Alette’s townhome, hoping no one was watching.

  Coming up for air, I said, “You shouldn’t be here.”

  He followed my gaze back to the building. “I’m not afraid of them. Is it too early for me to take you to dinner?”

  “I’d love that. But—” I wanted to pull my hair out. I couldn’t believe I was going to turn down Luis to go play Mission: Impossible with Cormac. “But I can’t. I set up a meeting and I can’t miss it.” “Something for your show?”

  “Yeah, something like that.” It wasn’t an outright lie. Most everything ended up on the show eventually. But Luis looked at me sidelong, like he knew I wasn’t being entirely truth
ful. He could probably smell it on me, or sense the twitchy nervousness through my body.

  He said, “The full moon is coming soon, in just a few days. Do you know where you’ll be?”

  I knew the full moon was coming soon. I couldn’t forget. “No. I usually scout out a place to run, but I haven’t had time.”

  “Come with me. There’s a park about an hour outside town, a few of us drive there. It’s safe.”

  Full moon night with friends. It had been a long time since I had anyone watching my back.

  “I’d really like that. Thanks.”

  He brought my hand to his lips and kissed it. “Then it’s a date.”

  When one lycanthrope said to another, “run with me,” it was usually a euphemism. I certainly hoped so.

  “I should let you get to your meeting.”

  “Yes.”

  “Then until I catch you again.” He touched my cheek, kissed me on the corner of my mouth, lingering for just a moment as if he’d draw the breath from me, then pulled back. He stepped away, grinning, and it was all I could do to keep from following him, step by hypnotized step.

  He turned and continued down the street, hands tucked in his trouser pockets.

  So where were all the seductive Brazilian hunks when I had time on my hands?

  I picked up a visitor’s badge, found my way to the Clinical Center building, and kept walking, like I was going to Flemming’s office again: down the hall, around the corner to the elevators. At this point, I had no idea what I was doing. Cormac said he’d be watching for me.

  It was easy for him to talk about sneaking into government buildings. He hadn’t been accosted by Men In Black on his arrival in town. He wasn’t having paranoid delusions about the hallway in the Senate building being bugged so that some security goon heard all our plans and was waiting for us to make the first move and catch us red-handed.

  I clung to the wall, glancing around with wide eyes, convinced someone was following me.

  I scented Cormac—his light aftershave and the faint touch of gun oil that never left him—just before he stepped around a corner and grabbed my arm. I still gasped and had to swallow back a moment of panic. This isn’t danger, I’m not in danger. He put his hand against my back and guided me forward, so that we continued down the corridor, walking side by side, like we belonged here. He’d left his guns at home this afternoon.

  We stopped by the elevators. Cormac pushed the button. No gloves, I noticed. Maybe that came later.

  I leaned close and whispered, “I have to ask, aren’t you worried that maybe somebody heard us? That maybe the FBI or something knows we’re here and is watching us? I mean, we planned this inside a Senate office building. They probably read our lips off the video surveillance.” I glanced over my shoulders. First one, then the other.

  “Norville, the thing you have to understand is, the government is a big bureaucracy, and the left hand doesn’t know what the right is doing most of the time. The fact that it gets anything done is a miracle. Nobody’s paying attention to us. But they’ll start if you keep acting like you’re up to something. Stop looking around.”

  We didn’t much look like we belonged here. Cormac was still wearing jeans and a T-shirt. I was only marginally better in slacks and a knit top. But he acted like we belonged here, and that was the key. Keep quiet, don’t spend too much time looking around like you needed directions, and know where you’re going.

  The elevator opened, we stepped inside, after letting the few occupants exit: a couple of people in white lab coats, a woman holding a flower arrangement. She was dressed about like I was. Cormac was right. No one paid attention to us.

  He pushed the button to send us to the basement, carrying on like we had an appointment with Flemming. By the time the doors opened to spit us out, my stomach was doing somersaults.

  “We can’t walk right into his office,” I whispered at him, hoping I didn’t sound as panicked as I felt. “What if he’s there?”

  “He won’t be. I sent him on a wild goose chase.”

  “You what?”

  He looked down his nose at me, the long-suffering stare that made me feel like an annoying younger sibling.

  “I called him from a pay phone, said I knew him from the army and had information about his research, but I had to talk to him in person. I told him I was in Frederick.” He pursed his lips in a wry smile. “He’ll be gone for a couple of hours.”

  Frederick, Maryland. Some thirty-five miles away. Close enough for Flemming to think that following the lead was worthwhile, far enough away to keep him busy for a couple of hours. Flemming would be gone all afternoon, assuming he took the bait. Considering Flemming was more paranoid than I was, I could assume he had.

  That was hilarious. I was beginning to think that Cormac hadn’t just done this sort of thing before. I was sure he’d done it often.

  Now, Cormac put on gloves, made of thin black leather. I followed suit, though mine were cheap knit ones I’d dug out of my car. Not nearly as cool as his. By the time we got to the door of Flemming’s office, he’d pulled something out of his pocket: a card key.

  “Where’d you get that?” I hissed.

  “Janitor,” he said. “Don’t worry, I’ll give it back.”

  Oh. My. God.

  The lock clicked; the door slipped open.

  I followed Cormac into the office. He closed the door smoothly behind me.

  The office was dark. Cormac made no move to turn the lights on. Enough ambient light showed through the frosted window in the door to find our way around the room. My sight adjusted quickly. Quicker than Cormac’s—I headed toward the paper shredder in the corner while he was still squinting.

  The bin under the shredder was empty. So was the counter next to it. All those papers, gone. Of course they were, he’d spent the morning shredding them.

  I started working my way through the remaining stacks of documents piled around the desk and bookshelves. They were all medical journals, published articles, photocopies of articles, dissertations, and the like. Some of them I’d dug up on my own. At first glance, none of them offered insight into Flemming’s research. It was all background and supporting documentation. The bread, not the meat at the middle of the sandwich.

  Cormac went to the desk to fire up the computers. After they’d booted up, the screens coming to life, he shook his head at me. “Password protected,” he said. “Hacking isn’t my strong suit.”

  No, he was a stolen key and .45 revolver kind of guy.

  I wasn’t prepared for serious digging. I’d assumed—wrongly—that in all this mess I’d find something just lying around, even with all the shredding going on. I studied the bookshelves, hoping for a spark of inspiration. The physiology reference books butted up against the folklore encyclopedias amused me.

  I sighed, on the verge of defeat. “Let’s see if we can get into the next room.”

  The second door also had a frosted window in it, but the other side was dark. I couldn’t see anything through the glass. Cormac took out his trusty stolen card key, slid it through the reader, and popped the door open. The door swung away from him. He straightened and gestured me inside.

  “After you.”

  I felt like I was stepping into an ancient Egyptian tomb. The place was so still, I could hear my blood in my ears, and it was cold with the kind of chill that seeped through stone underground. I could see well enough in the dark. The linoleum floor continued, and like the office this room had walls of shelves. It also had lab benches, sinks and faucets, and a large metallic refrigerator that hummed softly. Also, Flemming had here a good collection of the medical equipment I’d expected to find in his laboratory: racks of test tubes, beakers, Bunsen burners, and unidentifiable tabletop appliances plugged into walls. They might have been oscillators, autoclaves, the kind of things one saw on medical dramas on television, or in the dentist’s office. Again, the place had more of the atmosphere of a college biology laboratory than a clandestine government research
facility.

  The far wall was made of glass, maybe Plexiglas. Behind it, the room continued, divided in two by a partition. I moved closer. Both extra rooms had a cot, a washbasin, and a simple toilet in the corner. The Plexiglas had doors cut into it, with handles only on the outside. The doors had narrow slots through which objects might be handed through. Like meal trays. They were cells.

  Moving quietly, Cormac stepped beside me. “This is kind of fucked up.”

  Yeah. “Do you smell garlic?” One of the cell doors was open. I wasn’t mistaken; inside, the scent of garlic grew strong. It wasn’t like someone was cooking with it, or there was a chopped-up piece of it somewhere. It came from everywhere. I went to a wall, touched it, then smelled it. “Is it in the paint? Did they put garlic in the paint?”

  “Check this one out,” Cormac said from the next cell over. He shined a penlight over the wall, which glittered. Sparkling like silver—tiny shavings of silver, imbedded in the paint. I kept my distance.

  Two cells. One for a vampire, one for a werewolf, designed to keep each of them under control using innate allergies. They looked like they’d been empty for a while. The sheets were fresh, unwrinkled. They didn’t smell occupied.

  “Hands-on research, looks like,” Cormac said.

  Involuntary test subjects was what it looked like to me. My stomach hurt.

  Cormac left the cell. “You seen enough?”

  “Just a minute.” I scanned the room one more time. Most of the paperwork had been moved to the office and shredded, it looked like. Nothing here but empty tables and defunct equipment.

  To the side of the silver-lined cell, a clipboard hung on a nail. It looked like the kind of setup someone would use to keep medical records handy. It seemed rather forlorn and forgotten. I picked it up.

  Only three sheets of paper were clipped to the board. They were charts, with a list of names. Names—jackpot. Quickly, I scanned them. First names only, maybe two dozen in all.

  Halfway down the second page I read: Fritz, 6', 210 lbs., h.s. lupus. Homo sapiens lupus. It couldn’t possibly be the same Fritz.

  I flipped back to the first page and caught another name, one I should have noticed right away: Leo, 5'9", 150 lbs., h.s. sanguinis. Vampire.