Studying Scarlett the Grey

by Kelle Z Riley

  Bree found a booster seat and climbed into the backseat of the Crown Vic, working to figure out the straps on the seat, one ear trained on sounds behind her.

  Something didn’t add up. If someone connected to the terrorist cell wanted the car—and its trunk load of cash—why did they need a child’s car seat? Was the child kidnapped? Some form of insurance? Questions ricocheted in her head as she braced herself to save the child if necessary.

  “Are you following this?” she asked into the com. Silence. Her sense of unease mushroomed. “Matthew?” Still no answer.

  Outside the car, muffled voices indicated the family had arrived. Gordon’s put-upon tone stood out from the rest. “One minute, sir, ma’am. My assistant has to finish with the car seat.” He moved close and leaned in, his breath harsh in her ear. “Hurry up, Cat.”

  “Almost done.” Bree tugged on the straps one last time, then backed out of the car. She looked up at Gordon. “All ready, sir.”

  He stepped to the side slightly and Bree’s breath caught. She stood face-to-face with the man she’d once met on an undercover mission. Dr. Lei Chan. The head of a terrorist organization. The one they’d code named Zed.

  Recognition—followed by surprise—flickered in his eyes.

  Chapter 16

  “I’d like to take a test drive before I trust my wife and daughter to this vehicle,” Zed announced. His gaze bored into Bree. He glanced at her name tag and a glimmer of a smile curved his lips. “I’ll take Cat along with me.”

  “This is highly irregular, sir. Our cars are in top condition.” Gordon’s protest carried its usual dismissive intonation but appeared to have no effect on Zed.

  Instead, he stepped past Gordon, took Bree’s arm in a firm grip, and guided her to the passenger seat. “We won’t be long.” He locked her door and leaned against it while he fished a card and pen out of his pocket. He jotted something and rounded the car, taking his place in the driver’s seat.

  With a wave to his family, he put the car in gear. “I should introduce myself,” he said in a bland tone. “My name is Dr. Lei Chan.”

  Was it possible he hadn’t recognized her? She wasn’t wearing the blonde wig or green contacts she’d worn in her other meetings with him. Perhaps he didn’t connect Emporium worker Cat Holmes with Dr. Catherine Holmes, energy researcher. Bree drew a shaky breath.

  “Here is my card.” He passed a business card to her as they pulled out of the emporium’s parking lot. He gassed the car. Any thought Bree might have had about jumping out disappeared faster than the upward tick of the needle on the speedometer.

  Zed reached over and tapped the card impatiently, motioning for her to turn it over even as he kept his focus on the street in front of them.

  On the flip side of his business card was penned a message. The car is bugged. Help me get my wife and daughter to safety. He raised his brows in question when she looked up from the card.

  Her earpiece crackled to life. “Watson, I’m back. Status report?”

  She faced the window and spoke quickly and quietly. “Zip. Zilch. Nada. Zed.” She paused. “Is the surfer riding the waves?”

  Zed poked at her shoulder and pointed to the card again, waiting for her answer. She mimed writing and he handed her a pen. She raised the card so it could be captured on her necklace camera.

  On the other end of the com, Matthew spoke to her in measured tones. “I take it you are with Zed in the car. I see his card. Good job. And yes, Grant has full control of the car. All other monitoring has been disabled.” The sound of rapid typing on a keyboard filled the com.

  Bree turned to Zed, calmly nodding to him as she began to speak. “I understand what you are telling me. I and my colleagues have control of this vehicle. We are the only ones monitoring the conversations inside. Whoever you are afraid of can’t hear us.”

  “You’d better be right, Dr. Catherine Holmes, or whoever you are. Because if you’re not, my family’s life is forfeit.”

  “You can trust us.”

  Dr. Chan’s lips firmed, and he nodded once. “Don’t make me regret this.” The terse words held more fear than threat.

  “Watson, have him collect his family. By the time they are loaded into the car, I’ll contact you with an address for a safe house. Direct him there and I’ll meet you.” Matthew’s calm words settled her nerves.

  “Drive back to the emporium, Dr. Chan,” she said aloud. “We will pick up your wife and daughter and get them to safety. I’ll stay with you.”

  He turned dark eyes on her. Assessing. Deciding whether to trust her or not.

  “You already took a risk by giving me this.” She waved the card in front of him. “Your choice is to trust me or your handlers. Which is it?”

  He pulled into a convenience store parking lot and turned the car around, heading back to the emporium. “My wife and daughter’s guaranteed safety,” he said, “in exchange for any and all information I have.”

  The safe house turned out to be in a high-rise apartment tower in the suburb of Oakbrook, Illinois. Upscale furnishings contrasted starkly with the inhabitants of the room. Matthew and three others met them at the door and ushered the refugee trio inside.

  Bree hung back with Matthew, eyeing the security team. Like members from central casting, they wore dark suits, visible earpieces, and stiff attitudes. No discerning characteristics stood out about them. One black, one white, one female. All forgettable. She settled for calling them Agent One, Two, and Three.

  “My handlers expect me to check in at a hotel,” Zed said, hovering protectively near his family. “If I fail to do so, concerns may be raised.”

  Agent One answered. “An unfortunate occurrence happened at that hotel. A broken water pipe and resulting flood have made it quite uninhabitable. As compensation, you have been offered other accommodations.”

  Zed stiffened. “Do my handlers know I am here?”

  Agent Two took up the narrative, using a voice so dead as to be identical to Agent One. Central casting. Forgettable.

  “They believe you are in the tower next door where a decoy family is in your place. We control all surveillance for these buildings. Your handlers will see what we want them to see.”

  Agent Three, the woman, separated Mrs. Chan and the frightened daughter, speaking to them in a fluent language that the woman and girl seemed to understand.

  The child, probably five or six years old, clung to her mother and stared at Bree with eyes wider, darker, and more frightened than any runaway fairy tale princess ever to grace an animated film. Bree gave her an encouraging smile and the girl turned, tucking her head against her mother’s sweater.

  Zed calmed slightly.

  “How did you recognize me?” Bree asked, unable to keep her curiosity in check.

  “The hare recognizes the fox by its scent. Also, it is easier to recognize someone from staring at her back than at her face.” He peered at Bree, as if looking beneath the Cat Holmes makeup. “Your voice. Your name tag. The clues simply lined up, even though you look like an American teen today.”

  He shrugged and turned to the other member of the team. “Mr. Steven Hibbs,” Zed said to Matthew, his gaze alternating between Matthew and Bree, “I am surprised to see you here, although I probably should not be. Did you stay long at Alswednor Chemical after your little mishap in the North Sea?”

  A muscle twitched in Matthew’s eye, but he showed no other reaction. “After the explosion of the oil platform where I was working, I found it appropriate to disappear.”

  Zed laughed and held out a hand to Matthew. “As did I, my friend. As did I. You can thank me for the bad sushi that caused you to evacuate the platform before the explosion.” He dropped his hand when Matthew declined to return the gesture.

  “Dozens died that day.”

  “And dozens more survived,” Zed shot back. “Most of the dead deserved their fate. I was sent to a private debriefing facility while my young daughter and pregnant
wife had to fend for themselves. My leaders were not pleased. It took some time before I convinced them I was not responsible for letting our targets slip away.”

  “But you were.” It wasn’t a question, nor did Matthew sound particularly grateful.

  “We’ll take it from here,” said one of the G-men in dark suits. Bree didn’t take her eyes from Matthew’s face. He tipped his chin in the direction of the other agents.

  “I think I’ll stay involved.”

  “What of your wife?” Zed asked. “Just where is that beautiful mail-order bride you were so ensnared by?”

  “Poor widowed Sasha packed up and returned to Russia after the platform accident.”

  “So, the love birds split?”

  “Something like that.” Matthew’s jaw tightened and his eyes narrowed to slits. “Why?”

  “Only because I saw the beautiful Sasha in Thailand not long ago. About the same time Dr. Catherine Holmes and I last spoke.”

  “And?”

  “I told her,” he nodded at Bree, “that I’d give you all the information I had on my organization, in return for my wife and daughter’s guaranteed safety. But I will give you nothing, nothing, if Sasha is involved.” His body tensed, as if preparing to flee.

  “You are no longer in a position to bargain,” began Agent One.

  “We have a deal,” Agent Two said, interrupting his colleague.

  “Sasha’s dirty,” Matthew added before anyone else could speak. “I’ve suspected her for several years. My recent contact with her was designed to draw her out.”

  “Noted.” Agent One and Agent Two spoke in stereo.

  “Do not leave her hanging in the wind,” Zed warned. He paced the room, coming close to his family, then moving back to the trio of men as if weighing his decisions. “The consortium I worked for is multinational,” he began, sealing his fate. “Our—their—leaders hail from North Korea, China, Vietnam, Cambodia, and more.

  "The Pan-Asian countries have long been pawns in the fight between the West and its enemies. Some of us—them—tired of being pawns and sought to be kings. Young, idealistic men flock to them believing the promises of power and wealth.”

  “How long were you with them?” Matthew asked.

  “Long enough to be well educated, reasonably compensated, and gifted with a beautiful young bride.” His eyes sought out his wife and daughter, huddled together, guarded by the female agent. “Long enough for us to fall in love and dare to dream of more.”

  The woman stood, her daughter cradled in her arms, and crossed the room. “The first baby, we lost. The second, we lost. Those higher up were given the doctors I needed. My last baby…” An emptiness in her eyes, where grief should have been, broke Bree’s heart. “I want better for my daughter.”

  “We want a life of freedom. Of opportunity.” Zed took the child from her mother and settled her against his shoulder. The little girl snuggled close, her thumb going to her mouth as she drifted into sleep.

  “I will do anything, pay any price, to keep these two safe.”

  “Let’s get your wife and daughter comfortable.” Agent One led them down a short hallway, and they disappeared into what was presumably a bedroom. Agent Three followed and stayed with the pair.

  Once the men reconvened in the living area of the apartment, the questions started. True to his word, Zed gave up names, nationalities, and positions of the group’s leaders. He named operations—both failed and successful.

  “Agent Watson believes your goal was to control choke points in the world’s energy distribution,” said Matthew when the questions paused for a moment.

  Zed followed Matthew’s gaze to Bree. He gave her a small nod. “Agent Watson is correct. We call ourselves SoyoChi, a bastardization of the Chinese words for all and energy.

  "My role was to seek out and, if possible, gain control of new energy sources. Her work was of great interest to my leaders. I take it, Agent Watson—or Dr. Holmes, if you prefer—that you never really had a means of stabilizing frozen natural gas clathrates.”

  “As a fellow scientist, you should know what I proposed isn’t possible,” she answered.

  He shrugged. “My area of study was high energy physics. I held out hope that a chemist could actually fool nature into behaving as you pretended.” He smiled briefly. “At least Mr. Hibbs saw fit to challenge me with a genuine scientist this time.”

  “What of your current mission?” asked Agent Two. “Why are you here? Why risk everything now?”

  “I came as a reward for years of good behavior. My handlers finally trusted me enough to allow me to visit your country with my family. I had not intended to run.” He turned to Bree. “When I saw an escape route, I took a chance.”

  Chapter 17

  “This trip he’s acting as a courier, nothing more,” Matthew said hours later as he drove Bree back to Plainville where her car waited at Trader Jack’s.

  “Why would they use a trained scientist to shuttle money around?”

  Matthew shrugged. “I’m inclined to believe it was a reward for good behavior. He does a small job for them and gets a vacation in return. Maybe the trail of the regular pickup guy was getting too hot. A family draws less attention. And very few would jeopardize their wife and daughter to double cross their handlers.”

  According to the plan Zed had shared, his job was to drive with his family to Navy Pier, park the car in a designated spot, and spend a couple of hours enjoying the sights with his wife and daughter. The crowded parking lot created the ideal cover for another operative to retrieve the money and disappear.

  “Are you sure we can track his movements?”

  “Sure as I am with anything in this business.” Matthew squeezed her hand before returning both of his hands to the steering wheel. “We switched out the cash for an identical set of packets with currency we can track. Grant provided a bumblebee drone designed to follow the money.”

  “What about Dr. Chan? I’m not ready to trust him completely yet.”

  Matthew’s smile was grim. “Nor am I. But I am willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.”

  “Because of his family.”

  “No, because of the incident in the North Sea.” Bree waited, searching her memory while giving him the time he clearly needed.

  Shortly after recruiting her, Matthew had recounted how, but not why, he’d burned his cover and left his official agency. After he’d posed as a lab technician on an offshore oil drilling platform visited by Zed, the rig had exploded.

  News media covering the accident called for tighter industry regulations. Meanwhile, the government hid the fact that the explosion had been a weapons test by a terrorist cell. Zed’s cell.

  Bree stole a glance at Matthew. “I remember what you told me. And?”

  “I believe he tried to save lives that day. I wasn’t the only one rushed off the platform because of injuries or illness.” He turned to her. “I need to cross reference the men taken off the platform versus the ones who remained. Look at their political loyalties. Public records of statements made. Everything.”

  “Can you even get to those records legally?”

  “I still have contacts.”

  Bree dropped the matter, knowing from the look on his face what his next reply would be. “It’s need to know. And I don’t. Right?”

  A smile lit his face. “It’s better for you this way.”

  “Fine. What about the other government agents at the safe house? Do you trust them?”

  Something unreadable flickered in his eyes. “With my life.”

  Two hours later, Bree arrived at the Sci-PHi complex and took the private elevator to the Tech Ops center where Grant and Matthew sat side-by-side peering at video feed from not one, but two, drones.

  “Any developments?” she asked.

  Grant pointed to a video showing the Crown Vic parked beside at least a dozen other similar black vehicles. “This looks like an area where pier securi
ty parks. There are cameras, but they’re trained on the entrances and exits. Your boy dropped the car about twenty minutes ago. So far, no one’s touched it.”

  “This view,” Matthew said, pointing at another monitor, “is the drone following him. The agents planted a small GPS device on him. So far, he’s kept it in place. But even if he doesn’t, we have control of the drone.”

  “What about the family? I thought his instructions were to take his wife and daughter. Won’t his handlers be suspicious?”

  Matthew shrugged. “Shortly after we left, his daughter came down with a severe allergic reaction to something she ate. An ambulance rushed the girl and her mother to a hospital.”

  “Oh no.” Bree’s heart sank. “Will she be all right?”

  “Of course.” Matthew winked at her. “You know better than to take everything at face value. Even now his daughter is eating ice cream and playing video games at a local hospital while a door guard assures mother and daughter are safe. She’ll officially be released from the hospital a few days after Zed and his entire family are settled in a witness protection program under assumed names.”

  “Or at least that’s what his handlers are meant to believe?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Will we be able to follow him when he’s in the program?”

  “We’re working with Homeland and my old agency to design special circumstances for them even as we speak. Oh, and by the way, they need the rental car files you pulled from Jack’s. And the info Grant was able to scavenge from the EDR and satellite images. They have the resources to comb through them and cross reference them with other files on the cell.”

  “So we’re not following up on that lead?”

  Matthew shrugged. “I didn’t tell you to give them all the copies of the files. But for now, I trust Homeland and the agency to follow up without our help.”

  “Are you ever going to tell me the agency’s name?” Bree burned with curiosity.

  “Need to know. And—”

  “I don’t.”

  “You catch on quick, Watson.” He gave her a grin. “And if I did tell you, it wouldn’t be a group you’ve ever heard of. So much information is redacted that even the members don’t always know the other members.”