I sank gratefully to the floor and the dizziness abated enough for me to pay attention to the proceedings again.
Grandin’s search had been completed and the young guard had offered him the written list of his belongings for approval. As he took it, the commander spoke.
“So where’s this pen Agent Kelly mentioned?”
Something flickered across Grandin’s face too quickly to identify before he assumed an outraged expression. “Your man stole it from me!” He jabbed a finger at the list. “See? There’s my notebook on the list, but he didn’t record the pen!”
The young guard flushed. “There was no pen, sir.”
“There was! How the heck would I have written in my notebook if I didn’t have a pen?” Grandin demanded. “Kelly even saw it! You people can’t even be trusted to take a simple inventory. What else are you stealing from us?”
Comprehension dawned. That sneaky bastard.
“He ditched it somewhere,” I said. “He shot me, threw the smoke bomb, and while the room was full of smoke he ditched the dart gun. Check the garbage containers.”
“This is an outrage! You’re trying to frame me!” Grandin segued into another loud-mouthed conspiracy theory, but I tuned out his voice and watched his body language. He looked… smug. This was exactly what he wanted.
Was it a distraction to draw attention away from someone else’s activities?
I zeroed in on Dirk, but he was being processed under the watchful gaze of one of the armed men and wasn’t in a position to do anything but cooperate.
Brad Wilson?
He wasn’t doing anything, either. But he looked just as satisfied as Grandin.
When he noticed me watching him he hurriedly converted his expression to a worried frown.
Okay, assholes. You think you’re getting away with something, but it’s all being recorded. And when I get a look at that footage, I’ll figure out what you’re up to…
My heart sank.
What good were the recordings? If the footage had been altered to make it look as though I’d thrown the smoke bomb, we had a huge security breach…
A wave of nausea made me groan aloud.
Chapter 15
Released from the scanner, Hellhound was beside me in an instant.
“How ya doin’, darlin’?” He smoothed the hair away from my damp forehead.
“Comes ’n’ goes…” I mumbled. “Sleepy. Dizzy. Sick…” I blinked heavily as the room twisted on its axis.
“Move away from her.” The commander was back.
“Fuck off,” Arnie growled. “Go ahead an’ shoot me if ya want, but stop pissin’ around. Get a fuckin’ medic in here.”
The commander apparently decided not to press the point. “Medics are already outside,” he said. “It takes time to set up the positive-pressure quarantine bubble outside the door. They’ll be inside any minute now.”
“’Bout fuckin’ time,” Arnie snapped.
I slumped against him, my vision wavering in and out of focus. “You shouldn’ be here,” I slurred, fighting for coherence. “What ’f I’m contagious?”
“Then it’s already too late to worry about it,” he said calmly. “I ain’t goin’ anywhere, darlin’.”
“Back off!” A hostile hiss dragged my attention over to where Reggie was being searched.
One of the guards had both hands around Reggie’s leg, exploring the socket of his prosthesis through his pants.
“Get your fucking hands off me,” Reggie snarled.
“I’m sorry, sir, but-”
“Back the fuck off!”
The commander strode over. “Is there a problem here?”
“Sir, I’ve found something strapped to his legs but he won’t let me-”
As though realizing that everyone’s attention was now focused on him, Reggie drew himself up to his full height and cast a withering glare over the crowd.
“Fine,” he enunciated clearly, with such bitter venom that my stomach twisted. “Yes, I have something strapped to my legs. Prosthetics. I’m a double amputee.” He jerked one pant leg up to reveal his prosthesis and scowled at the young guard, whose face glowed crimson even through the shield of his helmet. “Have a good gawp, all of you,” Reggie ground out. “Go ahead, feast your eyes, motherfuckers.”
“Oh, Reggie!” Katie’s eyes brimmed with sympathy.
“Save your fucking tears for somebody who gives a shit,” Reggie snarled, and turned his back on her.
Everyone developed a sudden fascination with the floor or ceiling. Katie stood open-mouthed, a hand to her scarlet cheek as though he had slapped her.
I tried to say, ‘Don’t be such a dick, Reggie’, but my unwieldy tongue only delivered a mumble that sounded like ‘doan-be-sujja-dig’.
“What, darlin’?” Hellhound inquired, bending close. “What’d ya say?”
“Dig.”
He frowned and I squeezed my eyes shut and tried again, concentrating fiercely. “Heeza dig. Rejji. Fuggen dum dig.”
Arnie’s worried frown deepened. “What? Aydan, I dunno what you’re tryin’ to say.”
“What colour was the pen?” It was the commander again.
I squinted up at him. He seemed to be dancing the hokey-pokey. Moving forward and then backward. Forward and back, without even moving his legs.
That was cool. How did he do that? I squinted harder.
“Can you hear me?” he demanded. “What colour was Grandin’s pen?” He lurched forward again. This time I was sure I saw his right foot move in.
He had a sense of humour after all!
I giggled and sang, “Putcher-ryfoo’-inya-putcher-ryfoo’-ou’... Do-thokee-pokee-an’…”
I couldn’t remember how the rest of it went.
“Do-thokee-pokee,” I repeated, frowning. “An’… an’… sumthin…”
“Aydan?” Arnie was doing the hokey-pokey now, too. It wasn’t as funny when he did it.
“Aydan, come on, stay with me, darlin’.” He patted my cheek with a gentle hand. “We need to know what colour Grandin’s pen was.”
Why didn’t they just check the camera footage?
I tried to ask, but the words were too complicated.
“Blah, blah,” I said instead.
“What?” Arnie’s face swooped in, weirdly distorted. His nose took up his whole face. It was a hideous nose, but I loved it anyway. I tried to pat his nose but my hand wouldn’t move.
“Aydan, what’d ya say? Did ya say it was black?”
“Blah,” I repeated.
“I think she’s sayin’ it was black.”
“Black? Like the one we found in your waist pouch?” the commander asked.
“She stole it! She stole my pen and falsely accused me!” Grandin’s voice came from a long distance away, so I didn’t mind a bit.
But the commander had demanded something…
The words did an amusing jig in my head. “’Mander ’manded,” I said, then giggled and tried to tug on Arnie’s sleeve. I couldn’t find my hands, so I burbled, “’Mander ’manded. ’Sfunny, Arnie.”
“I’m here, darlin’. What’re ya tryin’ to say? What colour was the pen?”
I focused as hard as I could. His nose was enormous. Under it, his moustache bristled with thousands of hairs. I stared, transfixed. So many hairs. Dark ones and bright ones. Like a waterfall of black and silver…
“…Siller.”
“Are ya sayin’ it was silver, darlin’? Not black?”
“Siller…” I repeated faintly. The word wouldn’t stay. I tried to hold onto it but my hands were gone.
“For heaven’s sake, she needs medical attention. She’s losing consciousness! She could be dying!” Despite the frantic note in her voice, Nora’s cultured British accent trickled over me like soothing balm.
Bomb.
No.
“I didn’ doot,” I protested.
“Hurry!” Nora called from above the Milky Way.
“Thanks, Mom,” I mumble
d, and sank into warm and fuzzy darkness.
I rose slowly through blackness, hovering just beneath its surface to admire the silvery ripples of light playing above. Languid and smooth, they twisted and broke apart only to re-form and begin their sensuous dance over and over.
Bubbles of speech rose past me, garbled blobs that bloomed into random words as they broke the surface of the darkness.
Sleek slippery words all curvy around their edges, slithering like silken snakes…
Warm round words, comfortably bulgy and smelling of cinnamon and safety…
Hard dangerous words…
Bomb.
My eyes snapped open. “Wa-theldee-gimme?” I demanded.
Arnie leaned over me, but his head fell off. I cried out in horror as it bounced off my stomach and fell to the floor, where it rolled away into a corner and lay smiling up at me.
But a moment later it was back on his shoulders as he leaned lower, then lower still. All I could see was his face, swelling bigger and bigger.
His head was going to explode.
Like a bomb…
“NO!” I tried to fend him off but my arms wouldn’t move.
More words bubbled past me.
Hallucination. I clung to that one despite its spiky edges.
Hallucination. That’s what this was.
Hal.
Lou.
The spikes hurt.
“Stop,” I begged.
Sin.
A.
Shun.
The syllables stabbed like daggers into my mind. Hal. Lou. Sin. A. Shun. Hal. Lou. Sin…
“Stop!” I cried again.
Arnie’s nose plunged down and attacked me. Nostrils like a two-car garage. Twin black caverns spouting hirsute waterfalls…
I screamed.
Over and over…
After a measureless time the hallucinations subsided. Arnie leaned down again, and this time his head stayed on and his words made sense.
“Hey, Aydan. How ya doin’?”
“Wa-theldee-gimme?”
“Sorry, darlin’, I dunno what you’re sayin’. Keep tryin’; I’ll get it.”
I squeezed my eyes shut as a silvery ripple disrupted my vision, turning Arnie’s face into a bright mylar balloon.
“Wha’…” I enunciated carefully. “…th’ell… d’he... give… me?”
“Doc said it was ketamine. Street drug. Ya mighta heard it called Vitamin K. It fucks with your memory an’ gives ya hallucinations, an’ it knocks ya out.”
“Mem… loss?” I squeezed my eyes tighter. My mind felt slippery. Thoughts flickered past like quick shiny minnows, and I gripped one with all my concentration. “How… long?”
“Ya been down for about an hour. It’s comin’ outta your system now, an’ the doc says you’ll prob’ly be okay in another hour or so.”
I let out a breath of relief, then tried another tack. “Gran’n?”
“Ya mean, did Grandin drug ya? Or are ya askin’, did he throw the smoke bomb?”
Too complicated.
I mumbled, “Uh…?”
Arnie answered anyway. “I been sittin’ with ya the whole time so I ain’t seen the video, but Chow said there was somethin’ weird about it. We’ll look at it together soon’s you’re feelin’ better.”
“Medal?”
“What, darlin’?”
I opened my eyes to stare up at him, hoping he could read my mind. Or what was left of it.
“Medal,” I repeated. I thought very hard. “Batee…ria,” I added triumphantly.
“Oh, Mitchell’s bacteria an’ the metal powder, right. They didn’t find it on anybody.”
“Whathfug?”
“I dunno what the fuck, darlin’. Everybody got scanned. Nobody had it on them. Not even up their ass or anythin’. That scanner’d detect even the smallest bit a’ metal, no matter where it was.”
I sighed and closed my eyes again.
Chapter 16
The next time I opened my eyes I could process my surroundings better. I lay on a gurney in the corner of the bullpen, and Hellhound sat beside me, holding my hand. An IV line snaked down from a pole into my other hand, and a heart monitor emitted a steady beeping. A few feet away, one of the armed guards stood stiffly, his weapon at the ready and his gaze trained on me.
Everyone else was clustered on the opposite side of the room, wearing surgical masks and gloves. The tense muttering of many voices formed a backdrop of sound, but I couldn’t make out any words.
“Hey, darlin’,” Hellhound said with a smile. “How ya doin’?”
“Better.” I ventured a slow stretch, wiggling my fingers and toes. “I can feel my arms and legs, and my brain isn’t trying to swim away. But… why aren’t you wearing a mask and gloves? What if-”
“Hell, I been beside ya right from the start, so if I’m gonna catch somethin’ from ya, I’ve already caught it. ’Sides, a mask won’t seal over my beard, an’ I ain’t shavin’ it off.”
I reached up and threaded my fingers through his beard to tickle his chin. “But you’re hiding such a great jaw under there.”
He grinned. “Thanks, darlin’, but ya know I don’t shave the facial fungus in winter. An’ you’d miss it if I did.”
He leaned down to kiss me lightly, and the tickle of his beard and moustache made me smile.
“Mmm, good point,” I agreed.
“Christ, I told you before! None of that mushy shit!” Reggie’s grouchy tone was belied by the humour in his eye as he limped over. “You gonna live, Kelly?”
“I think so.” My belly chilled. “Unless I’ve been shot up with some slow-acting poison or disease. Do… do they know yet?”
A frustrated breath hissed out of the valve in his mask. “Nobody’s talking to us. All they’ll say is that we’re quarantined.”
I swallowed an unwieldy lump of fear. “Oh. That’s, um… not so good.”
“Stemp’s on the way,” Reggie added. “He’s coming in a military helicopter instead of driving, the fucking bastard. But at least he’s bringing a team, and when he gets here we’ll start getting some answers.”
“What happened?” I asked. “I remember the jab in my arm and the smoke bomb and trying to get out…” I frowned. Slippery memories. “…and then…” They waited, frowning, too. “Um… the smoke cleared…” I jerked upright. “Shit, did they find that bacteria?”
“No.” Reggie shrugged. “And they’re not going to. There’s no way to detect bacteria short of swabbing everything in here and culturing the swabs. They’ve done that, but it’ll take a couple of days for the results. They haven’t found the metallic powder, either, even though they brought in handheld scanners and searched the whole room. All they found were the smudges in the bottom of the containment vessel and a light dusting on the table and floor. Not enough to account for all that rebar.”
“But…” I knotted my fists in my hair. “That’s not possible. Nobody left the room. They couldn’t have gotten it out…” My stomach dropped. “…or did they? Did somebody leave while the room was full of smoke?”
“No. The security footage from the corridor outside shows the door never opened.”
I flopped back on the pillow. “Then where the hell…”
Staring up at the ceiling, my attention caught on the exhaust fan grilles. Behind them, the big fans still rumbled away. My heart stopped.
“Ohmigod.” My voice came out in a thin quaver. “C-Could it have gotten… sucked into the exhaust fans?”
Both men’s eyes widened.
“Shit!” Reggie snarled, and pivoted to shout at the guard. “Check the exhaust grilles above the table for metal powder!” The man stared open-mouthed behind his face shield, and Reggie shouted, “Wake up, fuckhead! The grilles! Check the fucking grilles!”
The commander strode over, his weapon at the ready. “What’s the problem here?”
“Check the exhaust fan grilles, dammit! The metal powder might have been sucked through them!”
“Where do those fans vent to?” I demanded, my heart pounding. “If that bacteria was still active when it was sucked up…”
The commander shook his head. “All the exhaust fans have HEPA filters. Every room has complete biological containment. Bacteria and viruses can’t escape.”
Reggie sank into a chair on the other side of my gurney with a wince as his leg bent, but his voice was as steady as ever. “Chill, Kelly. The bacteria had to be inert by the time the containment was breached. If it hadn’t been, the whole HVAC system would have caved in by now. Remember, you’ve been out of it for a couple of hours.”
“Oh.” I let out a trembling breath. “Right. I forgot.”
The guard returned, scanner dangling from his hand. “Nothing. I even opened the plastic grille and swabbed the duct, and there was no ferrous metal.”
“Then where the hell is it?” I demanded.
The commander and his guard gave me identical frustrated shrugs and turned away.
“Wait!”
The commander turned back at my command. Through the clear face shield of his breathing mask, I read the expression of a man barely containing his irritation. “Yes?”
“Did you find the dart? Or needle, or whatever injected me?”
“Yes.” He scowled.
I tried to sit up, but the room made a tricky spin. Hellhound’s hand landed on my shoulder and I fell back, my heart pounding. “Where did you find it? What was in it?”
The commander’s scowl deepened. “Why don’t you tell us?” He whirled and stomped away.
“Wha…? What the hell is his problem?” I sputtered.
Hellhound frowned. “Don’t ya remember? They found the dart in your pocket.”
“What?” I bolted upright only to fall back on the pillow again when a wave of dizziness turned my gurney into a ship tossing on rough seas. Complete with seagulls…
I groaned and squeezed my eyes shut. When I reopened them, the gurney was stationary again and the seagulls were gone. Thank God.
“Yeah, the dart was in your pocket,” Hellhound said gently. “Ya musta forgot ’cause a’ the drugs. Don’t worry, we’ll figure out what’s goin’ on. Dickwad over there…” He nodded across the room at the commander. “…he’s a bit of an asshat, but he’s makin’ the best of a shitty job so I’m cuttin’ him some slack.”
Once Burned, Twice Spy Page 12