by Theo Cage
“From now on, things will be a lot simpler between us. A shame really. All you do now is just shut up and do everything I tell you. Do you understand, Med? Or a lot of people close to you start to bleed. Like that yappy sister of yours.”
Med felt surprisingly calm. She was scared. Anyone would be. But she had it under control. She was letting her anger work for her. She resisted his push, his face close to hers. She needed to press his buttons, get some answers.
“I know you were behind that email about her kids. I know you’re a sick man. I also know your cover is blown. Our people know all about you. And the FBI are coming up in the elevator. As we speak. I’m going to enjoy watching them haul you away.”
Xavier flinched, momentarily looking towards the door. He turned back, still not convinced, but he appeared slightly shaken by what she knew. He pushed harder against her, his anger growing. “Didn’t you say you were suspended? Do they suspend employees and then send in the police to rescue them? I don’t think so.” He looked her over in the dim light of the room. He was moving the gun now. He drew it down across the base of her throat and then pressed it hard into the flesh of her right breast. He was pushing her back against the wall.
“I had my pick of the CIA wenches. The agency is busting at the seams with ambitious career women like you with no lives outside of the office. So why pick you? You’re curious aren’t you? Nice ass, basically. But let’s not forget the real reason. Your baby, GIPETTO. All that’s going to stop now.” Med tried to protest, but he pushed the barrel of the gun deeper into her flesh until she bit her lip with the pain.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Xavier laughed. “Your weakness, Med, is your love for intrigue. You thought working for the government would be so romantic, didn’t you.” He was now moving the gun barrel down over her stomach. When she made the slightest move away, he would pin her against the wall even harder with the point of the barrel. He didn’t seem to care if he impaled her with the weapon. “You were hoping for mystery and romance. But all you got was discipline and duty. To a crumbling regime. So when Portman came along with his little skunk works project, you jumped at the chance. You have no idea what he plans to do with GIPETTO, do you?”
He now had his hand on her neck and the cold barrel of the gun pressed painfully into her abdomen. She had bitten her lip so hard it was bleeding. Panic was setting in. She never expected this. Nothing he said was making sense. “You didn’t think anyone would notice?” He pressed the gun even harder. She let out a gasp.” You didn’t think key people within this government can protect themselves against parasites like yourself? ”
Through tears, her throat constricted by his grip, she gasped. “You’ve got this all wrong. You introduced the virus. Not me. You’re the one responsible.”
Xavier shook his head. “You’re such a child. I’ve seen your file, Med. I know about the invisible changes you’ve been making to GIPETTO over the years. You’re clever. I give you that. But you have no idea what you are playing with.” He was moving her along the wall now, toward the corner of the room opposite the window, into the shadows. “We can’t let this get out. How compromised American security is because of the actions of one American traitor. One psychotic employee bent on causing World War III.”
“World war...” she choked.
He pushed her down then, onto the floor. She let out a yelp of surprise. He sat down on her legs; the gun now everywhere on her body, pressing, probing, and generating little blossoms of pain. He seemed to understand exactly what pressure points would create the most anguish. “Now what to do with our little traitor...”
As if in answer to his question, a voice came from behind. “That’s enough!” David tensed, his gun pressed hard into Med’s right temple. “Drop the gun, now.”
Xavier raised his head, his eyes still on Med, his left hand on her throat. “Be a shame to just shoot her.”
The voice from behind was closer. “Why not try the same trick you used on Scammel then?”
Xavier laughed. “That crazy asshole killed himself. Don’t try blaming that on me.”
“Just give me the gun, Xavier Don’t give me an excuse to shoot you. Cause I’m really looking for one.”
Xavier raised one eyebrow. “Before I do, tell me who I’m surrendering to.”
“Hyde. Washington Homicide.”
“OK,” answered Xavier, releasing his hold on Med’s throat. He still kept the gun pressed against her forehead, the barrel bruising her skin. “I’ll cooperate. But we need to agree to something first.”
“I don’t make deals with psychopaths.”
Med cleared her throat before Xavier could answer. “Be careful.” She coughed, her voice raw. “I’m betting he’s an NOC agent.” She looked her captor in the eye. Xavier didn’t even blink.
“Then you know I’m serious,” offered Xavier.
“Minutes are ticking away, Xavier,” said Hyde, his voice closer. “You don’t put that down now, we won’t be discussing anything.”
“Assuming I have been given poor intel, which I admit is possible, and assuming I was operating without knowledge of Med’s true status, then I might consider turning over my handler.”
“Keep talking like a lawyer, Xavier, and I will kill you just for the sheer satis-fucking-faction. Just let her go,” said Hyde.
“I’m on contract to the CIA, detective. I’m not a terrorist or a homicidal maniac. I was just trying to scare your Mary Ellen here. Set her straight.”
Hyde. “You tell me what you know and I’ll decide what it’s worth.”
Xavier looked at Med. “We know someone inside the CIA is taking it apart piece by piece. Computer attacks. Deaths of key agents. If Med here isn’t involved then there’s a good chance your perpetrator is buried so deep you wouldn’t find him in a hundred years of police work. You forget about this little incident. I quit this project, and I hand him over.”
Med struggled for breath, the full weight of Xavier on her chest. “Hyde. He’s full of shit. And you’re thinking of making a deal with this asshole?”
Hyde was right behind Xavier now. “Put the gun down first. Then we can talk. You hold back anything and I turn you over to counter terrorism. You know what kinds of freaks they can be.”
Xavier dropped the gun on the carpet and stepped away slowly. He offered his hand to Med who refused it.
“I’m just doing a job, Mary Ellen. You more than anyone knows how this works.” Med lifted herself up off the carpet and straightened her blouse. Then she moved in closer to Xavier, swung her right fist up, punching him hard in the stomach. As Xavier doubled over, she then expertly swung her knee up into his groin. Xavier collapsed to the carpet, struggling for air.
Med stepped back. “My sister was right, you are a cold-hearted asshole.” Hyde grabbed Xavier by the arm and dragged him up and pulled him over to the breakfast nook where he sat him down roughly. Xavier was taking deep breaths now. Hyde sat across from him, his gun in his right hand under the table.
“You blink Xavier, and I shoot your balls off. Got that?” Xavier nodded.
Roger, who had been staying out of danger in the bedroom, joined Med off to the side. He placed his left hand on her shoulder for support.
Hyde began. “I’m not a judge, Xavier. I can’t offer you immunity or anything. If you give us enough to find this Buzzworm freak, I might consider turning you into a witness. But if you ever get within a mile of Med again after today, I will shoot to kill.”
Xavier looked from Med to Hyde. He took a deep breath. “First you need to convince me that Med is not a terrorist and that all of the reports I have been gathering are wrong. Otherwise, I still have a duty of honor.”
Med erupted at that. “Duty of honor? What bullshit. How much are they paying you, you mercenary asshole? It’s only about the money for you and always has been. You’d be working for Al-Qaeda if they paid you enough.”
Xavier smiled at Hyde, ignoring the diatribe. �
�You’re a career cop, detective. You might be a bit more cynical than you used to be, but it’s still all about doing your job, right? I’m the same way. I do what they tell me to do because I believe it’s all about the cause. And sure, they pay me well. But I’m good at what I do.”
Hyde squinted at the NOC agent in the dimmed light of the kitchen. “Don’t feed me any more of your crap, Xavier. You took advantage of her, pure and simple. That wasn’t in the line of duty. If you ask me, you enjoy your work too much.” Hyde rubbed his bandaged ear. He wondered if Xavier was behind the chaos in the park too. “I think they call that pathological, don’t they?”
Med shook her head. “Sometimes sociopaths get the job done. But most normal human beings just don’t want to be in the same room with them. They make your skin crawl.”
Hyde sat back, his large frame making the chair creak. “So let’s get this over with. Xavier. What’s your connection with Frank Scammel?”
“I don’t see what he has to do with our deal.”
“Then your visit to Scammel years ago when he was arrested on sex charges? That has nothing to do with your assignment?”
Xavier looked around the room. “The CIA asked me to give him advice. That’s all. He was an employee and we were trying to mitigate any embarrassment.”
Hyde asked, “Do you have training as a lawyer?”
“I didn’t act as a lawyer, detective. I may have told the police I was his lawyer, but I didn’t appear in court or carry out legal functions. A small white lie for a good cause.”
Hyde looked unconvinced. “Did you deliver money to the Washington police?”
Xavier smiled. “Do I look like an imbecile? I did give a lot of cash to Frank though. He said he needed help. So we helped him. It was CIA money. He could do what he wanted with it.”
Hyde shook his head. Always the same towering pile of shit to wade through. Who was worse? A crack addict or a fervent intelligence agent high on duty, willing to do anything to win.
Hyde now had Xavier’s wallet open with one hand, the other still cradling his handgun. “Thanks to the FBI we now know that a lot of money changed hands over the years between Scammel and the Washington police. Millions in fact. A Washington Vice cop by the name of Wishnowsky was working with Scammel to distribute cash to dozens of police officers. And you were the money man for Frank?”
Xavier took a moment to respond. “I was under orders to supply Scammel with cash, no receipts. Pretty standard operating procedure. That’s all I know. I was following a directive. What else can I tell you?”
“You didn’t bother to ask what he was using the millions for? A man charged with sexually molesting a twelve-year-old?” Meds face showed her shock. She hadn’t heard about the charges against Scammel. “What did your CIA case worker tell you about Med and Coyne?”
Xavier answered. “That Med was a disgruntled employee and that she was sabotaging a key intelligence program called GIPETTO. I was asked to get to know her better and track her movements.” He stole a glance at Med who glared back.
Hyde continued. “And did you find any connections between her and a criminal or terrorist organization?”
Xavier looked directly at Med this time. “Not directly. If I had more time …”
Hyde narrowed his eyes. He was clearly losing patience. “Do you know about a David Dodge?”
“Name means nothing to me.”
“He was a security officer at Building 213. Someone crushed his skull.” Xavier didn’t respond. “You are working for a maniac, Xavier. Who is intent on murder and espionage and we need to find him now.”
Xavier finally looked away from Med. “Detective, I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt on that. But you need to give me some time.”
“Time! Why?”
“Because the case officer I report to has been very careful. I don’t have a name. Just a codeword for the project. Buzzworm.”
Hyde looked at Roger who nodded. No one was surprised. Hyde shifted in his chair again. “You’ve been taking orders for years from someone you’ve never met? You expect me to believe that?”
Xavier shrugged. “My case worker is a paranoid guy. He’s battling with forces within the intelligence community. He says he is the last protector of freedom and the American way; maybe a bit extreme in his views. But he has enormous power and that doesn’t happen unless you are far up the chain. And yet he’s faceless.”
Med crossed her arms. “Buzzworm’s trying to engineer a total collapse of intelligence operations. And he has you doing his dirty work.”
“We’re big on deniability. And this CO has been as secretive as they come. But I do have some information I’ve kept to protect myself. I just need to make a few calls.” Hyde looked skeptical. “Like you said, you know where I live.” Xavier looked to Med. “And I can’t hide from US government. They’re my client. I’m not going to risk that.”
Hyde took the gun out from underneath the table and slid it into his shoulder holster. “You’re under tight surveillance, Xavier. You try to leave the country and you’ll spend the next twenty years in a Federal prison. You have twelve hours to give us a name.”
Xavier nodded. Everyone noticed the change in him over the past few minutes. His sense of superiority seemed to melt away. He was slumped over now, unsmiling. Roger looked at Med, but nothing had changed in her expression. She clearly hated the man now. And for good reason, that gave Roger a lift.
CHAPTER 40
It was Friday morning, and I had driven into headquarters early. Trying to sleep had been a waste of time. I needed to hear from Xavier and soon. Since I couldn’t sleep I thought I might as well work.
The homicide division bullpen was still empty. Except for Geena Garcia. She’d been with the department a little over three months, a recent transfer from community services. All of us in Homicide are convinced she never goes home. We suspect she has moved in, sleeping every night at her desk. We obviously haven’t worked hard enough to beat the enthusiasm out of her yet. So I said hello and then stopped at Emile’s desk.
Someone had already cleaned out my ex-partners belongings. All that remained of Emile was a phone and a blank computer monitor sitting to one side. I opened the drawers. They were empty too. I had driven out to his sisters the day after the shooting and delivered the bad news. She may have looked tough, but she crumbled like a little girl when I told her how Emile had died.
I took a sticky note from the next desk and wrote on it “Emile – gone, but not forgotten” and pasted it to the front of the monitor. They should retire that desk like they retire NHL player numbers. No one would be able to replace him.
I sat at my desk and pulled over a pile of new file folders. They were the printouts of the documents that Buzzworm had forwarded. As promised there were twelve cases. All unsolved murders in Washington. Each file had new evidence attached, straight from CIA’s intelligence files.
The first file was labeled Shocknek, Kenneth. Shocknek was a journalist for the Washington Times. He had been found murdered three years ago in Rock Creek Park, a national park situated right in the middle of the downtown. Death had come about as the result of three-dozen stab wounds to the chest and neck. There were no witnesses and the body had been found three days after the time of death. There was little to go on and the case closed after a few months. The Times had printed a story trying to connect the murder with a book Shocknek was about to publish on the criminal activities of the CIA. He had authored a number of stories through the years on CIA involvement with the drug trade in Latin America.
Buzzworm had attached a printed copy of an email sent to Shocknek a week before his death. A death threat. The email had never come up in the investigation. The senders name was attached. The note said he was a freelance contractor who had done work for the military.
This was more than enough to re-open the case. But I wasn’t born yesterday. If Washington Homicide acted on this tip, we would be doing exactly what Buzzworm wanted us to do. We wou
ld be aiding his twisted attack on the intelligence community. And I had no idea if the lead was legit.
I got up and wandered over to the nook where we had a small fridge and a microwave oven. I noticed a fresh pot of coffee was brewing. Had to be courtesy of Garcia. I lifted my mug up in her direction and nodded my thanks. She smiled back. As I took my first sip, she was up and headed in my direction. I watched her hesitate as she passed Emile’s empty desk. She read the note.
“Hyde. I just wanted to say how sorry I was about Emile. I knew you were partners for a while.”
“Six years. He came on when Turner retired.”
“Are you OK?” She was staring at my head. I had a large bandage wrapped around my ear. Her voice was soft, but I noticed for the first time how broad her shoulders were. Someone had said she was a body builder. Up close you could see she was no cream puff.
“I’ll live.”
“Any idea what happened there?”
I shook my head. I didn’t have the patience to get her up to speed. Someone at Homeland called it a SNAFU. Situation normal, all fucked up. Communications had broken down, they said, like that happened all the time and there was nothing they could do about it. They had a faked picture of me with bomb wires sticking out of my coat. Someone thought I was going after the Vice President. All they had was technological bullshit. No one does real intel anymore. Just like no one does real police work anymore. It’s all about the machines. “Welcome to crime in the 21st century,” I muttered.
Garcia shook her head. Just as she did my phone vibrated. I flipped it open and read the message.
I thought we had a deal.
The sender was Kyla this time. I didn’t understand the question. She was at Jazz Camp in South Dakota. Deal? Did I forget something?
“Sorry, Geena. I have to take this.” She nodded, but I could see in her face that she knew I was concerned about something. She reluctantly turned and headed back to her desk. I looked down at the phone and the next screen of text sent a chill through me.