by Mae Argilan
"CIA!" Sadie shouted. "Drop your weapon!"
In that split second, with the roar of a dragon, fire vomited from the mouth of her gun.
25
Sadie shot three times.
Bang Bang Bang!
Glenn fell back on the stone wall, covering her ears. It took four seconds—one Mississippi, two Mississippi—to realize she wasn’t shot. Her gaze followed the path of the bullets. The gunman lay on his back, toes pointed skyward. That’s all Glenn could see, the soles of Sullivan’s size twelve's. Then, Sadie turned toward her.
"Give me the tapes."
Glenn jerked back her elbow, sending the top tape spinning into space. It took to the air like a Frisbee, sailing out several yards, then succumbed to gravity. Glenn watched as it splashed into the river. She turned back to Sadie.
"I’m so sorry."
"Back off."
Glenn moved away from the remaining tape.
"For your sake, you better hope this one has enough on it to incriminate him," Sadie said. "This one is from the bathroom?"
Glenn nodded automatically. If Sadie wanted it to be from the bathroom, it was from the bathroom.
"You viewed this yourself? You saw him do it?" Sadie asked.
Glenn kept nodding, and backing up. Then, she stopped. The murder of Phil Bleetz. Bathroom. Incriminate him. Just like that, she was inside Sadie Cozzoli’s mind. She knew why the tapes had tempted her into the open, and why she had shot her partner. This had never been about foreign terrorists, or military tactics, or even political necessity. This was a simple case of murder for hire, like the Mafia. Sure, Phil, poor chump, had blundered into this with sinister motives. But, that’s not why he died. Sadie had eliminated him because she had no further use for him. He was disposable. Come to think of it, so were they. And, just like that, Glenn knew she was going to be killed trying to escape. All of them were. Nobody gets out of here alive .
"I still have the CD," she said.
"What?"
"Phil made a copy for himself. That’s Phil for you. As greedy as the day is long. You’re right, you never would have gotten rid of him. Your partner there had to waste him. But, he didn’t find the CD, did he? That’s because Phil kept it in his car, along with the audio tapes he made of his phone conversations."
Sadie didn’t know that. Glenn saw it in her eyes.
"We have those, too. Well, wehad them, but Justin Knight took them out of the car while you and I were playing cat and mouse. I didn’t have a chance to listen to them. You weren’t on any of them, were you?" Glenn saw Sadie’s uncertainty. "He didn’t get the CD, though. It wound up under the seat of the car. I’ll give it to you, or you could keep your fingers crossed, and hope it doesn’t surface. You might be able to get Knight to buy the notion that your partner did this on his own. Thatis your plan, isn’t it? Blame everything on him? He’s in no condition to contradict you."
"And you, Miss Prentiss, were kind enough to provide a cameraman to record the entire event for the evening news."
"You mean he’s still alive?"
"For now. I have to take care of you first, and then your boyfriend. He ran off and left you, you know."
"I know. He’s gone to get help."
"Too bad he’ll be too late."
"So, it doesn’t bother you that incriminating evidence is circulating out there somewhere?"
"Not really. Having a bull’s eye on my back helps keep me on my toes." Sadie moved her gun to her left hand, and reached her right hand into her pocket. "I’ll take my chances."
"You’ll have to catch me first."
Glenn spun on her heel and ran. Faster than a speeding bullet ? Glenn counted on Sadie’s reluctance to have her riddled with bullets. She also counted on speed, luck, and the darkness of the evening. It wasn’t a plan. It was a reflex.
Justin Knight’s voice rose in choppy syllables. "How can you see in this? Turn on the lights."
Wayne laughed. "Get serious. Nobody dusts crops at night."
"Don’t tell me we came all this way to be stopped now."
"Grab that spotlight behind you. Behind the seat. Jammed underneath."
Justin got on his hands and knees, and found the metal cylinder wedged under his seat. It looked like an old theatrical spot. He jiggled it loose. Wayne told him to access the electrical system on the dashboard. He found the end of a twisted mess of wires and pushed what looked like headphone plug into what looked like a car cigarette lighter.
"How do you manage to fly at all?"
"On a wing and a prayer, pard. On a wing and a prayer."
"Hey, look. What’s that up ahead?"
"Should be the Visitors Center," Wayne said.
"Can you get me to Burnside Bridge?"
"I can get you near it, to a parking lot."
Justin knelt in the nose of the Plexiglas, and held the spotlight steady with his knees. "Just get me as close as you can."
"Roger that. Hang on."
Wayne started singing the refrain ofBorn to Be Wild , and banked the chopper into a right turn.
Glenn grabbed for the edge of the wall, and slingshot around the end of the bridge. The sod along the riverbank cushioned her steps as she sprang lightly across the grass until a tuft rose up out of nowhere, snagging her toe. Down she went, hard and fast. Sadie landed on top of her, and yanked her arm behind her. It brought a rush ofdéja vu . Last time she’d danced this dance Sadie zapped her with a taser. Now she was soaked through. Another jolt would stop her heart for sure. Or, maybe Sadie would just go ahead, and put a bullet in her. Suddenly, a broken arm didn’t seem so bad.
Glenn screamed, and writhed in agony. Sadie ground her knee into her back, and applied more pressure. Glenn felt herself being dragged toward the water’s edge. The harder she fought, the more ground she lost. Sadie had Glenn’s incapacitated arm in one hand, and a fistful of hair in the other, as they inched closer to the roar of the sprawling Antietam. Glenn managed to get to her knees. By that time her head felt like a yo-yo. Sadie snapped the string again, bringing Glenn to her feet for half a second. Then, Sadie rolled her over her hip in a judo move, took her head in both hands, and plunged Glenn shoulder-deep, into the raging river.
The DNR was right. Its power was unfathomable. Where Glenn alone was unable to break free, as soon as the river got a hold of her, they combined forces. Sadie tried to hold on long enough to finish the job. She waded in to reinforce her hold. Glenn wrapped her feet around Sadie’s knees, and then the river had them both. Water swirled around them, peeling them from the riverbank. Glenn spewed mud, and blinked droplets from her lashes.
Sadie was less than an arm’s length away, dragging herself to shore. Glenn reached for her, and felt the fabric of Sadie’s coat float past her fingertips. She made a lunge for it, and captured it between the first two fingers of her right hand. Then, she got her left hand around it, and pulled herself closer. The extreme cold of the water drained the warmth from Glenn’s body. She watched Sadie deliberately shrug her arm out of her coat sleeve. The material billowed on top for a moment, like a canvas sail from a scuttled boat. Sadie prepared to remove her other sleeve, leaving Glenn clinging to a useless shred of cloth. Through a rainbow of colored lights Glenn squinted to see Justin Knight appear on shore. His foot came down on Sadie’s hand, grinding it into the dirt, anchoring her like a human pier.
"Take my hand," he called, above the churning of water.
Light was everywhere. Searing, blinding light. It shot arrows into Glenn’s brain. At first she thought it must be the near-death ‘tunnel’. But, there was no sweet music, or radiant emanations of peace and joy. There was chaos and noise, everything Glenn loved about life, and she was drawn toward it.
The pull of the river was strong. Glenn’s limbs refused to move. Her hands had a death grip on Sadie’s trench coat. The voice pierced the confusion again, and she raised her eyes to see an angel. He leaned down, and touched the back of her hand. A cocoon engulfed her body and dragged her over top of Sadi
e. He laid Glenn on a bower of sweet smelling herbs. As the angel hovered over Glenn, Sadie came into his halo of light. The angel sensed her, and turned. Brimstone flared from his upraised hand, and Sadie collapsed back from the shore into the swollen tide. The vision of the angel buzzed and pulsed. Glenn’s eyes drooped shut, and when they opened, flashlights were bobbing in her direction. Geoff was first in a procession, barking orders. He stooped down, and wrapped a blanket around her.
"D-did you s-see hic-h-him? A-angel. Saw G-God."
Someone shouted, "Hypothermia! For God’s sake let’s get her out of here."
"G-God," she repeated. "God he-helped me."
Geoff scooped her into his arms. Men with flashlights went ahead of him, crying, "Make way, give her some air!"
She nestled under Geoff’s chin. "He helped me, Geoff."
"I know it. He helped all of us."
"He loves me," Glenn said.
He kissed her on the forehead. "How could He help it?"
Geoff took her across the bridge, and climbed the steep trail. An ambulance was waiting in the upper lot, and so was a helicopter. Glenn was put on a stretcher, and ordered to lie down. For once in her life, she listened to good advice.
After three hours in the emergency room, she was released into Geoff’s care. He took her to his house, and tucked her into his bed. She’d always found something seductive about a rumpled bed. It seemed lived in, worn like a comfortable pair of jeans. It was an unspoken welcome, an invitation. She snuggled into his pillow. The scent of his hair was strongest and richest in the center. She buried her nose in the cool linen, and slipped her hands underneath. The aroma followed her into hours of soft slumber. She didn't remember the moment of falling asleep, only that she felt unusually tranquil when she awoke.
There was a charming casualness about his room: the tangle of clothes in the corner, the knot of shoes, the jumble of sheets. She got up, wrapped the corners of the comforter around her, and crept to the window. It had snowed. Sunlight was diffused by tendrils of ivy and fingers of fir, and splashed on white patches on the ground. It looked as if someone had sprinkled powdered sugar on everything.
Geoff came in, and surrounded her in his arms. "What are you doing out of bed?"
"I got lonely. Why didn’t you join me?" She craned her neck back.
"You needed the rest. Come on downstairs, I made like a boy scout, and built you a fire."
She sighed, and put her cheek against his freshly shaved face. "I haven't seen snow in a long time."
"It won't last the day."
"Some things aren’t meant to last."
"Hey, chick. You know, a lot of mensay they’ll walk through fire for you, but I actually did."
"Fire, and flood. We’ve been through it all."
"Except a normal first date. As soon as you get well, we’re going to do that."
"Us? Normal?" She leaned back into his arms, and watched a squirrel flit up the trunk of a maple tree. "I didn’t really see an angel, did I?"
"Who knows? We all see what we need to see."
"It was Justin Knight. He said so in the hospital. I heard him call someone named Pippin."
"When you ran from Sadie, I saw my chance to get Sullivan’s gun. But, before I could get back, Knight’s chopper flew over, lighting up the place."
"Which explains the supernatural light."
"When I ran down the trail, and over the bridge, you were outrunning her. The next instant, she was trying to drown you, and there wasn’t anything in the world I could do about it. I never felt so helpless in my life."
"Me neither."
"The way the two of you were wrapped around each other I was afraid to shoot. I was ready to try to swim across when I saw Knight. He pulled you out of the water."
"I could have sworn I floated."
"Hypothermia will do that. Once you start to hallucinate, that’s all she wrote."
"He shot her? Dead?"
"If the bullet didn’t get, her the hydraulic did," Geoff said. "Just down from where you went in is a hydraulic. Rocks create a barrier. The water rushes up against it, and goes around, and is pushed up again. Kind of like a sideways whirlpool."
"I heard a roaring sound, like a waterfall."
"Once something gets in there it spins around and around until something jars it loose."
"And, that’s where they found her?" Glenn said.
"Not yet. Have to wait for the water to recede before they can dredge. Odds are, that’s where she’ll be," he said. "You’re shivering."
She pulled the quilt around her tighter. "I liked it better when I thought there was an angel."
"Who’s to say Justin Knight isn’t an angel?"
"Oh, he’d just love to hear that."
"Oh, by the way, Terry’s dying for you to see the footage he shot. He’s out of his mind with happiness."
"There’s no way Justin is going to let him screen that," she said.
"Haven’t you read the Bill of Rights lately? Freedom of the Press, my dear."
"Yeah, right. Tell Terry to be careful. If he wants to keep that film he better make about a million copies, and put them some place safe. Believe me."
"He also said he wants you to come by the studio after the holidays."
"What for?"
"He seems to think the management at channel 25 might like to make you a job offer."
"But, I’ve never done e.n.g." She watched the same squirrel scurry back down the tree trunk. "Still, I guess it’s worth going in for an interview. Nobody else is rushing to hire me."
"Well, Ter’s the man at channel 25. They rely heavily on his opinions when it comes to camera work. All I know is, if he says you’re in, you’re in. And, I wouldn’t mind having you around."
She turned, and slid her arms around him. "It’s a real shame that you’re totally not my type."
"I know, I don’t much like you, either." He squeezed her tight. "Hey, you know what I was thinking? Maybe we should take Lois up on her offer to stop by. Eat some turkey, drink some eggnog, pick up a CD."
"Wait until you see what’s on that CD."
"You’ve already looked at it? When? Oh, I know, when I fell asleep."
"Yep."
"Man, I can see it now, I’m going to have to keep my eye on you every minute."
"Yeah, it could be a real problem for you."
"I’ll call Lois, and RSVP for tomorrow. You get back into bed."
"Not without you."
She looked up into his face, at eyes that blazed fiercely. Her heart pounded. This was not a man to trifle with. She knew that as surely as she knew that she had never seen him look more determined. She knew it as surely as she knew that his embrace was the warmest she’d ever known. She knew it as surely as she knew his kiss was making a promise that begged a response. This felt like the best Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years she’d ever had all rolled into one.
"I need you," he whispered, in her ear.
She nuzzled his neck. "What did you have in mind?"
"If you don’t have any other plans for the next few minutes," he said, touching her cheek. "I’d like you to join me as I de-bug this place."
26
On the day after Christmas they gave Justin Knight Phil’s CD. In a strange way the veteran newsman was responsible for opening an internal investigation into a subversive branch of the agency. Glenn thought he would have liked that. The audio tape they had found in the tape deck did have Sadie’s voice on it. There was nothing too incriminating, nothing that would hold up in court, but then again, it didn’t have to.
Shane had been warned to stay out of it by Dave and Lou after they took him home from Union Station. But, he couldn’t bring himself to do that as long as Glenn was in danger. Now he was providing what little information he had to the AFIB, along with Pip who was back on his feet. Lou was recovering from his gunshot wound, and Dave from his heroin injection. They weren’t allowed to see either of them.
One day they went shoppi
ng. Glenn spent some time inFirst Look Photo daydreaming about new equipment. Technology had passed her by during the past couple years, and she had to replace almost all her gear. Everything was too expensive. They went to the mission district where she found a raspberry-colored parka with lots of pockets. It wasn’t as roomy as her vintage overcoat, but it had a hood, and was only five dollars.
Terry Reeder brought the videotape to Geoff’s house. Production values were awful. He’d been positioned too far away, lighting was negligible, and sound was nonexistent. All you could see were leaves and twigs and some ghosts in the distance. Terry swore the original print was clear. He didn’t know what could have happened.
"A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and I have nothing to show for it."
Glenn offered to help boost the image for him.
"That’s just it," he said. "I can’t find the original. I’ve misplaced it." He ran his fingers through his bangs. "Think anybody would buy this? Is it as bad as I think it is?"
"Well," Glenn said. "No legitimate news organization. However, you could peddle it to one of those pseudo-docu-drama shows. Tell them it’s footage of Bigfoot."
"Or, Madonna skinny-dipping," Geoff said.
Terry laughed. "How about if I say it’s Elvis?"
Glenn said, "Why not all three? I’ll be Madonna, we can call Sullivan Bigfoot, and that makes Geoff Elvis. We’re all three skinny-dipping at Civil War battle site. I can see the headlines now. Dude, you’re going to be famous."
"That’s some imagination you got there, girl," Terry said, smiling at her. "You are going to be huge in network news."
On New Years morning, as Glenn was waking up in the guestroom, Geoff came in wearing baggy sweat pants with the terrapin logo of the University of Maryland on them. His upper torso was bare, allowing her to see the black and blue marks on his chest and arm. He handed her a coffee mug, and a plate with two overstuffed, blueberry croissants, and sat on the edge of the bed.
She scooted up on her pillow. "You’re spoiling me."
"That’s the plan."