by Matt Brolly
‘Tell me then, Mallard. Why do you take these people, these children? How can you justify it?’
Mallard lent closer and the two guards tensed. ‘Why should I justify it?’
‘Why should you justify it? You’re destroying lives. Not only the ones you take, but the ones you leave behind.’
‘Is that why you carry that pathetic keepsake with you at all times?’
The drugging had made him sluggish, but Lynch was sure he could reach Mallard before the guards executed him. He took some satisfaction in the fact. If he landed the perfect hit, if he could drive the man’s nose into his brain, then it would almost be worth it. Mallard wanted him to react but he did nothing but smile.
‘Very good, Mr Lynch,’ said Mallard, clapping his hands. ‘You realize we could have taken you out anytime we wanted. That’s partly what makes us so special. We could have come for you and you could have done nothing about it. Like now in many ways. But I saw something different in you, Samuel. I saw a glimpse of myself.’
‘You are out of your fucking mind.’
‘Think about it. How many people have you met like you over the years? I mean truly like you? I’m sure you have some stellar colleagues at that old organization of yours, Miss Rose for one, but there’s no one really like you. You get things done, Mr Lynch. You are not afraid to use force, to kill if necessary.’
‘The difference is I have the backup of the law.’
‘The law,’ said Mallard, with disdain. ‘The law was created by men like us to give us license to control others. I don’t adhere to any legal guidelines and your connection to the law is tenuous at best. Think about the two men you held captive before Mr Balfour intervened. What would you have done to them if he hadn’t stopped you?’
‘I would have found the truth,’ said Lynch.
‘And would have used whatever force you deemed necessary. Let’s not pretend you would have stayed within the law’s remit. So how do you justify your actions?’
Lynch thought about the fury driving him that night. Mallard was correct in suggesting he would have killed the two men for information on Daniel. There was no point arguing that his circumstances were different. It was what Mallard expected. Instead he said, ‘so what about you? What makes you think you’re so special?’
Mallard sat back and clasped his hands. ‘It’s a good question and most people would be unable to accept my answer. I’ve hoped for some time that you would understand. The rest of them, my esteemed guests you met earlier, thought it was a mistake. They don’t believe you are like us.’
‘Like us?’ said Lynch, content to let Mallard speak.
‘I imagine you’ve dealt with some low-level criminals before. Drug dealers, drug abusers for that matter. Picture some crack head whore off the street. How do you feel when you encounter someone like that? I imagine you think you are from a different species, that you have evolved to something different from her.’
‘I don’t tend to think in those terms.’
‘Maybe not but subconsciously I guarantee you are thinking, “I am not like her.” How many times have you felt like that? I imagine you feel that way about me, about us, that our so called criminality makes us a different species.’
‘What are you trying to tell me, Mallard? That you’ve evolved?’ Lynch had encountered such delusions before. There was power in taking another’s life, or being in control of another person, and such power bred this type of deluded thinking.
‘That’s a very simplistic way of looking at it but if you look deep within yourself you would have to accept that you consider yourself better than other people. It’s the human condition. Everyone thinks they are special. And some of us are.’
‘Why? Because you take innocents and destroy them? Any fucker with a gun can do that.’ Lynch was losing patience. He was desperate to hear something about Daniel, and although he understood he needed to humor Mallard there was only so much he could take.
‘Now that’s not quite true, is it Mr Lynch? Out of everyone, you should appreciate the scope of our operation. You were the first one to really speak of our existence. When all those around you doubted you, you started to link all the disappearances. No “fucker with a gun” could do that, and then Mr Lynch, you are only scratching at the surface.’
‘What is it you want, Mallard?’
Mallard moved his face so it was only inches away. It took all of Lynch’s strength not to turn away, such was the intensity of the man’s gaze. He couldn’t remember ever meeting someone with such poise, such absolute confidence. ‘I think that’s enough for the time being. You have a lot to consider.’
‘You abducted my son, you fucking monster,’ said Lynch, through gritted teeth, prompting the attention of the two guards.
Mallard got to his feet, and smiling said, ‘and this is something you are going to have to move past.’
40
McBride was not invited upstairs to meet Roberts and Miller. Roberts led Rose through the office like an errant child. They took the elevator to the top floor in silence. Rose feared she was about to be taken from the case. She understood the reasons why but wasn’t about to easily surrender this late in the day.
‘Special Agent Rose, do come in.’ Miller stood by the entrance of his office door as if he’d been eavesdropping.
‘Sir.’
Miller gestured her over to a set of sofas. ‘Please sit,’ he said.
Rose sat, Roberts and Miller sitting either side of her. It was an obvious intimidating tactic but Rose refused to be flustered.
‘You’ve had a few interesting days since we last spoke to you,’ said Miller.
‘Sir.’
‘Would you care to tell us what the hell is going on?’ said Roberts, taking the bad cop role.
Rose updated them, telling them what they already knew.
‘And your recent visit to Hanning Industries?’ said Miller.
‘News spreads fast. We’ve just left that building.’
‘I know. We just had a very irate Mr Nevin on the phone,’ said Roberts, unable to hide the agitation in her voice.
‘Some new evidence has come to light,’ said Rose, furious at having to justify her investigation.
‘The case into the Gunn massacre has been passed on to another team as you well know,’ said Roberts.
Rose stared at Roberts wondering what her angle was. She reminded herself that these two people were responsible for hiring Balfour and sacking Lynch. ‘We believe there was a potential link between Hanning Industries, Mr Gunn, and the disappearance of former Special Agent Lynch.’
‘Which is?’ said Miller, with his practiced politician smile.
Rose explained about Wilberforce Mallard. How Lynch had been pursuing the man and Mallard’s financial interests in Hanning industries.
‘Rather speculative, wouldn’t you say, agent Rose?’ said Miller.
‘It’s a starting point,’ said Rose.
‘What about this Mallard character? Have we managed to speak to him?’
‘We’re in the process of locating him,’ said Rose, sounding more defensive than she wished.
Miller blew out his cheeks as if he had something stuck between his teeth. ‘This is a big case, Agent Rose. I’m coming to the opinion that it might be a step too far for you at this stage.’
‘With all due respect, sir, that’s utter bullshit.’
If she shocked the two senior Agents, they hid it well. ‘Obviously I wasn’t given the time to investigate the Gunn massacre myself. I have been working tirelessly ever since that day in the compound. Everything that has happened has been out of my control. This is an organization which managed to infiltrate an FBI compound, one of the safest sites in the world.’
Roberts lifted her palm to stop her speaking, Rose having to fight the desire to take the woman’s hand and snap it at the wrist. ‘What I still can’t understand is how Mr Lynch was allowed to escape custody.’
‘He was never under arrest,’ said Rose, dism
issively.
‘Don’t you think it would have been wise to have brought him in for a more thorough interrogation?’ said Roberts, refusing to be diverted from her theme.
‘You have spoken to the man since your time at the compound?’ said Miller.
‘Yes, sir.’
‘And did you not think it would be a good idea to bring him in?’
Rose didn’t answer.
‘The thing is, Agent Rose, it is apparent to us that Samuel Lynch has been waging an investigation of his own. We know for a fact he continued investigating the so-called Railroad long after his dismissal from the Bureau. As he’s not around we cannot hold him culpable if you get my meaning.’
Rose understood very well. There was a game of pass the buck going on and she was the last link. She was about to defend herself, to tell them that she needed seventy-two hours to find the man, when there was a knock on the door.
McBride didn’t wait for an answer. He breezed through the door apologizing to Miller and Roberts. ‘There’s been a development on the ghost train situation,’ he said.
Although pleased at the interruption, Rose sighed at the ghost train comment.
‘Do tell,’ said Miller.
‘It appears it may not have been a figment of everyone’s imagination after all. We’ve managed to locate it,’ said McBride.
‘You’re a lifesaver, McBride,’ said Rose, once they were in the car-park.
‘It’s my mission to serve. I thought you might be having a hard time.’
‘They need someone to pin this on when it all goes south. And that someone is me.’
‘I figured,’ said McBride, opening the car door.
‘So where is this train?’
McBride twisted his mouth. ‘Yes, well I may have exaggerated that aspect. We haven’t found the train exactly. We’ve found someone who can confirm it exists.’
‘We’ve interviewed over a hundred people who confirm it exists,’ said Rose.
‘Yes, but this is official confirmation.’
McBride started the car and pulled out of the underground car park into the midday sunshine. He was already wearing his sunglasses, and Rose took hers from her inside jacket. McBride explained that he’d spoken to an operative who worked at AMTRAK. The man had confirmed that a train listed as Z/YTY243 had been granted access to run on a line close to where Lynch’s train had been stopped. It had only just come to light that the signal boxes had been hacked and that the train had managed to move onto the line parallel with Lynch’s train.
‘Were there any other trains due on that line?’ asked Rose.
‘Not for another two hours.’
‘So where did the train go after that?’
‘That is the question. The hacking of the system went further than the signal boxes. There is no trace of where it went next.’
‘A train can’t just disappear.’
‘It can, apparently,’ said McBride. There are a number of private railroad lines that are able to gain access to the main network. My contact believes the train could have slipped onto one of these networks without detection, such was the extent of the hacking.’
‘Great, so where are we heading now?’
‘OTD are looking at the hacking. It’s going to prove impossible to search for the missing train as the area is too wide. I found something else though. I was going through Gunn’s files and I saw a missing entry. I thought we could discuss that with the lead investigator.’
The agent in charge of the Gunn case was Special Agent Laura Jenkins who, like Rose, worked out of one of the Bureau’s satellite offices in Laredo. Jenkins was twenty years Rose’s senior. She’d seen the woman before but they’d never worked together. McBride had agreed to meet the woman at a coffee shop in downtown San Antonio. Jenkins was waiting for them when they arrived. She was drinking coffee but didn’t offer either of them anything.
‘So what’s this about?’ said Jenkins, getting straight to the point. She had a faint hint of the east coast to her accent.
McBride went through the laborious process of explaining the recent developments in the Mallard case.
‘Never heard of Wilberforce Mallard,’ said Jenkins. ‘We looked into the structure of Hanning Industries but didn’t delve so far as to look at its shareholders.’ There was a hint of defensiveness to Jenkins’ actions that Rose understood. ‘Our investigation focused on Gunn’s colleagues and interactions. Everything pointed to him being a straight-down-the-line kind of guy, he appeared to be a family man, no sign of extramarital affairs from either party, children were doing well at school.’
‘No trouble with work colleagues?’ asked McBride.
Jenkins took a sip of her coffee maintaining eye contact with them.
‘If there was any disharmony no one was talking, his boss Nevin loved the guy. He was one of his hardest workers and he was compensated as such. He was on a mid-six-figure salary.’
‘You know we’re going through his files at present?’ said Rose.
‘I’d heard,’ said Jenkins. ‘What is it you’re expecting to find?’
‘Not expecting to find anything. We’d like to find a sign that Gunn was somehow working for the holding company.’
‘Something to link him with Mallard?’ said Jenkins.
‘It’s a long shot I agree,’ said Rose. ‘But right now we have nothing else to go on.’ Jenkins nodded as she took a second sip of her coffee and leaned back in her chair, her body language easing. ‘You could look at his past work history. He’s been at Hanning Industries for twelve years, but he worked on a number of freelance roles prior to that.’
‘Anything that sparked your interest?’ asked McBride.
Jenkins frowned. ‘He did some work in Mexico helping an architectural firm with the design of a vast industrial complex. You might want to see who put the money into that, but from my investigation, which I assure you was thorough, I found nothing that was suspicious. Obviously if there had been anything that linked Gunn to Razinski we’d have found it by now. My conclusion is the same. The attack was random, at least in the sense of Razinski’s choice of victims. He could have been stalking them for months but he left no viable trace and everything suggests that Gunn had no inkling of Razinski’s existence.’
It was one dead end after another. Although Jenkins had started the conversation defensively, she’d mellowed by the end and Rose had no reason to question her findings.
‘What do you think about this Mexican compound idea?’ asked McBride, once they were back in the car.
The logical part of Rose thought they were diving further and further away from reality and researching some freelance project Gunn had worked on twelve years ago felt like a step too far. ‘I’ll go through his laptop again tonight. See if there are any plans for this place, see if there is any connection to Mallard.’
McBride nodded, but she noticed the defeated look in his eyes. It was being left unsaid but he was probably thinking along the same lines as her: the chance of finding Lynch now was close to zero. At some point they would have to accept that he’d been taken, that he’d become another of the Railroad’s victims.
Later that evening Rose was surprised to find that her sister was not at the hospital. Rose had made the journey unannounced, hoping the drive would clear her head. She was struck by the same feeling as always when she entered through the hospital doors, the antiseptic claustrophobia, the desire to run from the remembrance of her own mortality. She was relieved to see one of the coffee shops was still open. She purchased a coffee and took a seat nursing the drink like a drunk on their last beer. She was killing time, delaying the inevitable. It was hard to admit, but she feared facing her mother alone.
A young man in his early twenties sat at the table next to her smiling with a giddy enthusiasm. Rose clocked the wedding ring on his finger and presumed he was an expectant father. Why else would anyone be smiling in such a place? She checked through the messages on her phone, her mind darting from the close to lifeless
body of her mother somewhere else in the hospital, to thoughts of Samuel Lynch. She knew what the Railroad were capable of and tried not to dwell on the atrocities Lynch could be enduring at that precise moment. Twice she went to call Abigail but each time she hesitated. She had to see her mother alone, needed to say the things she should have said so many years ago.
‘So it all comes down to this,’ thought Rose, as she eased her way through the doors of her mother’s room. She gazed at the frail figure prone on the bed, at the alien tubes and pipes keeping her alive, and struggled to equate it to her mother. When the dementia had first set in, Rose had spent more time with her mother than she had in the previous ten years. She’d wanted to capture the woman she’d known, as she was before the terrible disease had its way with her, but it had proved to be a mistake: life went on. It made no sense to sit around waiting for further symptoms. Slowly her mother started getting on with life and so did Rose, wrapping herself up with work and trying to forget the gradual decline that was happening to her parent. It had been her mother’s doing. They’d been sitting on the sofa together watching some nondescript television show when she’d said, ‘this can’t go on forever.’
‘What do you mean?’ said Rose.
‘You can’t stop time, darling. Sitting here watching me won’t stop it happening, all it does is remind us of the inevitable.’
Rose had felt hurt then and now regretted the emotion with a terrible force. Only she could be so selfish as to consider her own feelings at such a time. She tried to place herself in her mother’s position but it had proved impossible; how could you conceive of losing one’s mind? It truly was a fate worse than death.
Yet, she now regretted the time she’d stayed away. She stood at the end of her bed, only just realizing she was crying. Her mother wasn’t going to recover and life would never - could never - go back to the way it was before. Rose placed her hand on her mother’s face and remembered everything the woman had done for her, the things she’d achieved raising two young girls single handed whilst holding down a day job, securing their education and future: the support she’d given Rose when she first decided to join the police force and latterly the Bureau, her sense of humor and empathy, her courage and selflessness. As Rose held the skeletal figure of her mother in her hands, she thought that if she amounted to becoming half the woman her mother was she would have led an extraordinary life.