Whitewash

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Whitewash Page 27

by Alex Kava


  Sabrina knew there wasn’t a single person on the grounds. The few who were here at this time of day were where they needed to be, not venturing back out into the sultry morning.

  Last year when Sabrina arrived at EchoEnergy, she learned quickly that all but the plant’s shift workers arrived before nine. Some stayed late, but no one came earlier than they had to. So they had an hour, tops, to get in and get out.

  Howard maneuvered the boat expertly around logs and debris in the river and under branches overhanging the water. She watched his monster hands on the wheel and clutch, gentle, smooth touches that steered the boat to the right and then to the left with very little motion, which Sabrina was grateful for. Her stomach had settled a bit, but her nerves had taken over. Earlier on the road trip to Tallahassee, the men had eaten breakfast burritos and hash browns while she had forced down a cup of coffee. Now she could feel the acid churning in the empty pit of her stomach, sour and unforgiving.

  Without having navigated the river before, Howard seemed to know how close they’d be able to get to the bank. The propellers scraped once, then she caught him wince when it happened a second time. Even Russ stopped plucking at the computer keys. She saw Howard shift something and the engine started to idle while he came to the back of the boat. Sabrina didn’t look to see what he was doing. She seemed to be fine as long as she didn’t look down at the water.

  Howard was but a few minutes then she felt his hand on her shoulder.

  “I’m going to get you as close as possible,” he said, and she offered him a weak smile.

  As close as possible was still two or three feet from the bank. Howard helped her into Russ’s hip-high rubber waders that on Sabrina came up to her chest. At the same time Russ attached what looked like a miniature hearing aid over her right ear, gently, almost apprehensively moving her hair aside. She could feel the short microphone stem brush her cheek.

  While Howard tightened the straps on the waders, Russ turned back to the laptop and electronic equipment he had set up in the small space next to the cockpit. A dozen lights flashed. He picked up one of the miniature hearing aids and put it on his ear, adjusting the short microphone stem. Then he turned his back to them and spoke softly. “Test, test one, test two, test three.”

  Sabrina could hear him clearly in her ear and told him so.

  “You try,” he said and Sabrina repeated the test.

  He gave her a thumbs-up.

  “Try not to get it wet, okay?”

  She nodded, but felt a tingle of panic. Why did he think it might be possible that it would get wet? They had told her she’d be able to walk to the riverbank and not have to swim. She was an okay swimmer, but she had been in Florida long enough to know you didn’t swim in rivers unless you could see there were no water moccasins anywhere on the surface.

  “Keep these on,” Howard told her as if he could read her panic. “At least until you get out of the tall grass. Snakes can’t bite through this rubber.”

  “Great,” she said. “And here I was only worried about security guards with guns.”

  She meant it as a joke. Howard didn’t laugh. Neither did Russ. Instead, Russ pointed to a map he had of EchoEnergy’s park.

  “You get in trouble, any trouble at all, you tell us exactly where you are and we’ll come get you.”

  She knew he meant it, so she didn’t bother to remind him they wouldn’t be able to get in without key card access.

  They helped her down into the dark water. The sun had risen only enough to seep through the trees and create shadows. The water sloshed almost to the top of the waders. She had to keep her arms high, taking small steps, each one sinking just a little deeper.

  “Careful,” she heard Russ whisper in her ear.

  “To your right,” Howard instructed, his voice calm and reassuring. “Keep to the right, Sabrina.”

  At the moment all she could think about was how ungodly hot the rubber waders were. She wiped sweat off her forehead and pushed her hair back behind the earpiece remembering not to get it wet. Strands of her bangs stuck to her face.

  “More to the right,” Howard insisted.

  Sabrina reached the bank and found several dead tree stumps and large roots. They were sturdy enough to help her secure her balance. She lifted herself up, the rubber waders like lead weights, sucking and pulling against her steps. She made it up onto the bank and let out a sigh of relief. That’s when she heard something drop into the water. It was to her left where she had just been. Although daylight hadn’t set in, Sabrina could see well enough to make out the snake riding the surface of the water. It crossed exactly where she had walked just seconds before, under a low, overhanging tree branch. Her stomach took a roller-coaster plunge and sent a chill down her back despite the saunalike waders.

  “You did good,” Howard called to her with that same calm that had guided her away from a snake hanging a foot or two above her.

  Suddenly she wished she was back on the boat.

  99

  EchoEnergy

  Eric hoped Sabrina wasn’t waiting for him. He had spent a good hour of their road trip from Pensacola to Tallahassee with a penlight and a map of EchoEnergy’s park, trying to commit it all to memory. He was dead tired, getting only a few hours’ sleep after his gigging with Howard’s buddies. He wasn’t sure how much had stuck in his memory. Now as Bubba drove up to the guard hut, Eric stared out at the expanse of buildings and trucks where his sister used to work. This place was a hell of a lot bigger than he imagined.

  The security guard checked Bubba’s ID, then asked for Eric’s. Russ had done an excellent job with the fake employee badge, whipping it together from a file the Mayor’s friend had e-mailed. The same friend who managed to get Eric the last-minute substitute job. No clue what pull the Mayor or his friend had. Eric sure hoped he wouldn’t be sorry he’d trusted the old man.

  The ID had passed Bubba’s inspection, which hadn’t been more than a dismissive glance. The guard, however, fingered the ID and turned it around. Was there something on the back Russ had missed? Eric figured he could play stupid and say he didn’t know it was fake.

  Damn! The guard slid his window shut and was picking up the phone. Maybe they were on a special alert because of the murder. And Eric had no way of letting Sabrina know. Russ had tried to talk him into wearing a wire. He had compromised by agreeing to a GPS tracking device instead. Okay, so at least Russ could notify Sabrina when they took him away from the park to a jail cell back in Tallahassee.

  “They do this crap all the time,” Bubba finally said. “You’d think they housed the Holy Grail here or something.”

  Bubba pulled out a package of gum and popped a couple of pieces, then offered the package to Eric. He’d scored big on the Coke BlaK comment. He thanked Bubba and helped himself to a couple of pieces. He wondered whose side Bubba would be on if the guard announced the badge a fake.

  The guard slid the window open and handed Bubba Eric’s badge, waving them through without a word while he kept the phone tucked between his shoulder and ear.

  Paranoid, Eric thought. He was way too paranoid.

  They drove around the corrugated-steel building that Eric knew was the processing plant. From the parking lot he could see a slice of the river between the trees and brush. He couldn’t see the boat. He couldn’t see Sabrina. That was a good thing.

  “So what do they make here?” Eric pretended he didn’t have a clue or interest.

  “Supposedly they take chicken guts and compress them or something and then they get oil.” Bubba didn’t really sound interested, either.

  “No shit?”

  “No shit. Just the guts.” And this time Bubba squawked out another laugh at his own joke. Eric joined him. For the next hour Bubba was his best friend.

  They parked in a loading zone between the plant and one of the administrative buildings. Eric tried to visualize the map he’d left in his head.

  “It’s a hell of a big place,” he told Bubba. “Every building ha
ve machines?”

  “At least one. They’re on the main floors. No stairs or elevators, at least, to slow us down.” He shoved a clipboard at Eric and got out of the truck.

  Eric followed, pretending to study the order form. From a glance he knew he’d be here a while. But he still wasn’t sure how he was going to persuade Bubba to let them stock the EchoLab building first. Then he’d need to lose him long enough to find Sabrina and let her in.

  He looked around as they got their hand trucks out. There wasn’t anyone else in sight except the tanker trucks and drivers. Not much of a chance to load up his crate and wait by the right door for someone to come along and play Good Samaritan. He’d be stuck following Bubba.

  Eric checked off options in his head. He needed to get Sabrina in early or she’d risk getting caught. He was deep in thought when Bubba tapped him on the shoulder.

  “You’ll need this to get in.”

  Eric stared at the security key card Bubba was handing him. He barely heard the rest of what his partner said.

  “I’ll take the plant, fitness center and café. You take the rest. You think you can handle that?”

  “No problem,” Eric said, restraining a smile and a sigh of relief.

  100

  Sabrina struggled out of the rubber waders, finally sitting on the ground, safe ground, no snakes. She yanked and rolled the rubber hip waders over her sneakers to free her feet. She kept watch on the tree branches above her. Her T-shirt was soaked with perspiration and clinging to her so that she felt like she had been swimming.

  “Eric just left the gate.” She jumped from the sudden voice in her ear.

  “He’s early,” she whispered, her head swiveling around to make sure no one was within listening range. She wasn’t sure Russ could hear her over the rumble of engines, though the trees muffled the sounds and hum of gears. “Can you hear me okay?” she asked just a bit louder.

  “I can hear you fine. How you holding up?”

  “Hot and sweaty.”

  “Just the way I like my women.”

  The comment surprised her and she smiled. Both Russ and Howard were trying their best to keep her calm and steady.

  “And dressed in sexy rubber waders, right?” she joked.

  “You betcha.”

  She rolled rather than folded the waders, hoping she had made it difficult for anything to crawl inside while she was away. Then she tucked them into the crook of a tree, the whole time her eyes darting around, above and below. She’d need to stay out of sight until Eric was able to get into the building that housed EchoLab.

  From where she stood she could see only a piece of the boat through the trees. On the other side of the brush was the parking lot. Somewhere close by was where the clogged water pipe had been. That seemed like ages ago, instead of days. How did she ever get to this place? Two people were dead, dozens, maybe thousands, sick, and all because one man decided to take advantage of making a few extra million dollars. It seemed inconceivable to Sabrina.

  The idea, the mission behind EchoEnergy, had inspired her move from academia to the corporate sector. When she’d decided to be closer to her father she had contemplated a position at Florida State in the same department where her father had been. But Dr. Lansik wooed her with promises of scientific breakthroughs. Breakthroughs he claimed would change not only the environmental landscape, but the political landscape, as well. But William Sidel had taken it all—promises and breakthroughs—and exploited it all for his own greed.

  “He’s almost in place.” Russ’s voice startled her again.

  “That was quick. Do we have any idea if he’s alone?”

  “Can’t tell. Remember, he didn’t wear a communication system. Don’t worry. He won’t open the door unless it’s safe.”

  Or he has a security guard with a gun at his back. She couldn’t stop thinking about the guard during the thunderstorm outage who’d acted like a manic Robocop.

  “I’m on my way,” she said. Then slowly, hesitantly, she ventured away from the safety of her temporary hiding place.

  101

  Outside the Reid Estate On the Gulf of Mexico

  Abda Hassar could see the security perimeter dotted by men in flak jackets and helmets and carrying automatic weapons. On this side of the estate where the energy summit was getting under way the soldiers’ presence would be needed more than their tactics. Abda had counted five limousines, two flanked by a half-dozen black SUVs. All were stopped at the gated entrance by more men. These talked into their cuffs and wore sunglasses with black suits, despite the Florida heat.

  Abda expected nothing less than this show of security force. He knew the badges he, Khaled and Qasim had acquired, the badges with the magic strip of bars at the bottom, would allow them entrance. But he also knew there would still be metal detectors they would need to pass through. Perhaps even body searches. It made no difference. None of them would be carrying any weapons. There would be no explosives, not even liquid explosives.

  He glanced at the time. Soon he would report for work at the catering company. He planned to arrive five minutes before his shift was to begin. He believed five minutes would be early enough to satisfy his temporary employer, but not so early that he looked too eager.

  Khaled would report several hours before. As a part of the prereception group he would be setting up tables and chairs, arranging table linens, flatware and centerpieces. Khaled had accepted the assignment with no protest when Abda insisted, even though Khaled understood the concoction, its properties and dosage better than any of them. As its creator it would make sense that Khaled would want to be the one who personally saw it to fruition. And yet, he had accepted and recognized that as their leader Abda would be the one. It would be Abda’s responsibility to administer the fatal concoction.

  It would be Abda who presented the deadly meal to the President of the United States.

  102

  Tallahassee Regional Airport

  Jason stopped to get a mocha latte as soon as he got off the plane. The two Bloody Marys had gone straight to his head. Of course they did this early in the morning and without anything else in his stomach. He had to admit it was nice to sit back and chill, but he’d forgotten that he’d need to be able to drive. He had plenty of time. He’d sip his coffee, go down and get his bag. Give his head some time to clear, then get the rental car.

  He was thinking about the BMW Z4 and smiled. He’d never owned or driven anything like it.

  He passed by one of the airport terminal gates and caught a glimpse of the overhead TV screen. What he saw stopped him dead in his tracks. No one noticed. People simply went around him. Passengers were lined up, ready to board. Very few paid attention to the TV screen. No one paid attention to Jason. While everyone else left their seats to claim their place in line, Jason, without taking his eyes off CNN’s crawl, found a seat directly under the TV and dropped into it.

  At first he thought it might be an announcement about the Appropriations Committee vote. Then he saw the handcuffs.

  On the screen a handcuffed Senator Allen was being escorted down the Capitol steps. The noise around Jason drowned out the sound, so he had to read the crawl at the bottom of the screen:

  Senator Allen calls the charges bogus. Gregory McDonald broke the story early this morning. The ABC news exclusive claims McDonald has seen irrefutable evidence that implicates the senator in the murder of Zach Kensor. Kensor, a congressional staff member to Senator Max Holden, was found murdered early Sunday at the Washington Grand Hotel.

  103

  EchoEnergy

  It took Eric three tries before he remembered and found the building that housed the lab. He quickly stocked a couple of soda machines to get rid of his load. Then he left the empty hand truck in a corner. If Bubba or anyone else caught him he’d say he was trying to find a bathroom. Not such a stretch of the truth. The maze of hallways took him one way and then another. At this rate he’d never find a bathroom, let alone the EchoLab.

  He p
ulled the miniature GPS handheld device out of a holster attached to his belt. The holster looked like a cell phone carrier, but the tracking system fit perfectly with a slight bulge. Eric stopped for a minute to view the tiny screen and get his bearings. Russ had programmed in all the locations. He was sure the door he needed was to his right, but when he pushed the door open there was no Sabrina. The steam of the morning hit him in the face with a smell he couldn’t quite place. He was just about to close the door when he heard a rustle in the crepe myrtle against the building.

  “Bree?”

  Somehow she looked more vulnerable in the T-shirt and running shorts. She didn’t say a word until the door closed gently behind her.

  “I’m in,” she said, but Eric realized it was for Russ and Howard’s benefit, not out of relief.

  “He gave me a key card,” Eric told her, holding it up like the prize it was.

  “Really?”

  He could see her mind going somewhere they hadn’t planned, exactly like his had been ever since Bubba handed the thing to him.

  “I’m just saying it made it easier,” he explained, now wishing he hadn’t opened his mouth.

  “He has a key card,” she said in the tiny microphone. And then to Eric she said, “Just please don’t run off playing Steve Austin with it.”

  He gave her his best hurt look and readjusted his uniform cap on his sweat-soaked head. “Gotta go. I have a lot of soda machines to fill.”

  They stood there staring at each other for a moment. Despite his earlier assessment of her looking vulnerable he saw only determination in her eyes. She was in familiar territory and on a mission. He hoped that would be enough to drive her. Covert missions were more his style.

  “You gonna be okay?” he asked anyway.

  “Yeah,” she said, nodding, but her eyes shifted away and back like it was a decision she still had to make.

 

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