Formula of Deception

by Carrie Stuart Parks

  “That was when Leif confessed that he was my father. We agreed that to protect the family name and fortune, we needed to get rid of the bodies.” Denali looked away. “He said the men died because they’d become stranded on the island, that nothing was left of his work there. I figured that was reasonable—after all, more than fifty years had passed. So I sent my only child, my daughter and her husband, to get rid of the evidence. They were to burn the bodies, then throw everything into the ocean. They never came back from that trip.”

  Rainwater trickled down the back of her coat. She shivered. “What biohazard did your father cook up that had our government buddy here willing to commit murder?”

  Denali glanced at Ryan. “Leif—I can’t think of him any other way—was looking for a way to accelerate the incubation period of a particular virus to make it extremely fast-acting. He also was exploring fleas, ticks, and finally rats as a delivery system. The rats were the most promising. But he thought he’d failed when he found out the Japanese evacuated Kiska with no evidence of disease.”

  “The rats died before they could be released.”

  Denali’s brows rose. “That was not the conclusion he came to. He thought they destroyed all the remaining rats, but apparently some of them escaped, and generations of specially bred infected rats continued to live on Ruuwaq.”

  “So what virus did he mutate?”

  “Rabies.”

  CHAPTER 37

  Murphy grabbed the iron cemetery fence to keep from falling. “Your father mutated the rabies virus?” She pointed at Denali. “Those five men on Ruuwaq Island, your own family, died of rabies?”

  Denali wouldn’t look at her. “Essentially one hundred percent lethal. Attacks the brain, so even in the early stages, it renders a person unable to function. Perfect as a military weapon. The incubation period was the problem. Three to eight weeks.”

  “People can be inoculated, the disease prevented—”

  “If you know what you’re dealing with. But millions, billions of doses of vaccine aren’t available on short notice. In wartime, it could wipe out an entire military division. And here’s the beauty of the disease: it can’t live long outside a host, unlike anthrax, which contaminates the environment.”

  “You almost sound like you admired his work.”

  “Admired it. Hated it.”

  Ryan stirred and moaned.

  “What are we going to do with him?” Denali jerked his head toward the unconscious Ryan.

  “What do you mean, ‘we’? I’m out of here. You tried to have Jake murder me. Ryan tried to frame me and get me to kill an innocent man. Why did he set Joshua up like that?”

  “I suspect it was because your boyfriend was getting in the way. He was frantic to find you, driving everyone crazy.”

  Her face grew warm in spite of the chilled air. “You and Ryan deserve each other.” Murphy pulled her raincoat closer. If Ryan really was an agent for the US government, they’d come and collect him and hustle him off to another assignment. Or whatever super-secret groups do to compromised agents. And Denali’s biggest fear was exposure, which she’d be delighted to do. She turned to leave.

  “Grandpa!” Lucas ran down the path toward his grandfather. “I heard a gunshot.” Quinn beat him to his owner and sat by the wheelchair.

  Denali extended his arms to the boy. “I’m okay now that I know you are too.”

  “Good.” A new voice from the trail froze Murphy. “All of you are together.”

  She knew that voice. But it wasn’t possible . . .

  Father Ivanov stepped from the trees, pistol held out in front of him. His beard was gone, as was all his priestly clothing. His head was shaved. She would not have recognized him except for his voice. “Murphy, drop the gun and kick it toward me.”

  She debated pulling it out and shooting him before he had a chance to pull the trigger, but he aimed the pistol at Lucas. “Don’t even think about it.”

  She did as she was instructed.

  “You murdered Elin!”

  “Yes.”

  “Who was the other person?”

  “A bum. One of the homeless eating at the kitchen. Nobody important.”

  “Why did you fake your death? And why do you have a gun on me?”

  “In a word, fingerprints. I wiped down Vasily’s house, but Elin said they’d recovered one set of prints, and she wanted to print me. I couldn’t take the chance.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “So I had to die.”

  Murphy couldn’t believe his logic. “But Elin didn’t! You didn’t think someone else would identify your prints and know you killed Vasily and Irina?”

  “It wasn’t about the murders.” Ryan slowly rolled to a seated position and looked at Ivanov. “He’s a Russian agent. Running his prints would have flagged him to the CIA. Very clever, by the way, to pose as a priest.”

  “I am a priest. I just have a, shall we say, part-time job.”

  “You must have heard about the bodies on Ruuwaq,” Ryan said.

  “No.” Ivanov pointed the gun at Ryan. “We, that is, the Russian government, got an offer several years ago to buy Paul’s research. For a large fee, of course.”

  “We got the same offer,” Ryan said. “Leif Berg wanted to know if the US government was interested in recovering the biological warfare results from World War II. Of course, considering he was in the military when the work was done, it’s ours anyway.”

  “So Paul,” Murphy said, “or as he called himself then, Leif Berg, decided to sell—”

  “Not him. He died before we had a chance to work with him,” Ryan said. “Jake.”

  “What?” Denali’s face flushed red. “Jake would never—”

  “Ah, but I would.” Jake casually strolled down the path.

  Murphy’s heart sank.

  “Come here, Quinn,” Jake called. “Good dog.” Jake took a rope from his pocket and tied the dog to a tree. “I don’t want any of you trigger-happy clowns to shoot the only good member of the family.”

  “How dare you say that!” Denali raised his fist.

  “Cool your jets, old man,” Jake said. “The whole family is a work of fiction you created to make you feel good. Your drunken wife, your hero father—I know you bought that Distinguished Service Medal on eBay.”

  “Shut up. Shut up!”

  Jake turned his back on his half brother and addressed Ryan. “You said you’d studied Murphy’s file carefully. You said she’d buy my death. You claimed she’d see you as a knight in shining armor and would trust you.”

  “She did,” Ryan said.

  “But here she is, rather than in jail.”

  Ryan shook his head. “Heads will roll in the profiling unit.”

  Jake flicked his hand impatiently. “What did she tell you?”

  “Nothing useful.”

  “Well then, our deal is off.” Jake looked at Ivanov. “Now, about your offer?”

  “Have you got the formula?” Ivanov asked.

  “Have you got the money?” Jake shot back.

  “That’s what I thought.” Ivanov moved a few steps backward until he could easily see everyone. Jake was on his right, near the trail. Denali had moved his wheelchair sideways to the cemetery, and his grandson clutched his shoulder. Ryan sat on the ground, leaning against the fence he was tied to. Murphy was farthest away, on Ivanov’s left. “We’ve suspected, Jake, that you don’t have the formula in your possession. Were you going to just point to the cemetery and say, ‘It’s there’?”

  Jake didn’t answer.

  “We know the research is buried here,” Ryan said. “Murphy clarified that. That’s not the issue. Did you find out the code, or how to bypass Paul’s booby traps?”

  “I need the money first,” Jake said.

  “Well, I don’t need you.” Ivanov calmly shot Jake in the chest.

  Lucas screamed.

  Quinn lunged for Ivanov and was brought up short by the rope. He continued to lunge and bark.

  Iva
nov aimed at the dog.

  “No!” Lucas dashed to Quinn and put his arms around the frantic Lab.

  Ivanov shifted his pistol to take aim at the boy.

  “Stop!” Denali screamed.

  “Don’t shoot!” Murphy yelled at the same time. She stared intently at Ivanov.

  “I won’t. Not yet. The kid’s too good a motivator to get you to talk. I bet if I shot his dog, you’d be most helpful. If that didn’t work, I could shoot his grandfather.”

  Lucas shuddered. Denali’s face was drained of color.

  “I’ll talk.” If she could distract Ivanov, she could injure him with a well-placed rock. Break his nose or hit him in the eye.

  “She’s bluffing. She told me everything she knew.” Ryan jerked his arms, trying to loosen the twine binding his wrists. “She said she didn’t know the code. Remember, I studied her file. She’s nuts. You know she spent two years in an insane asylum.”

  Murphy gasped. A floodgate of memories opened into her brain. Being diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder. Counseling. Voluntary commitment to the state mental hospital. Finding control and stability. Enrolling in the university. Trying to fill holes in her life.

  “Murphy?” Lucas said.

  She was sitting on the ground. She had no idea how she got there. She was soaking wet and so very cold from the rain. A huge empty place had opened back up inside her.

  She remembered why she’d come to Kodiak.

  “Murphy?” Lucas asked again. “Are you okay? Are you really . . . crazy?”

  “No, Lucas, I’m not crazy. I lost my way for a bit, but I’m fine now.” She looked at the men. “But all of you are still lost, and morally barren. Denali, you hated your father for his role in developing biological weapons, yet you tried to poison me. You sent your brother to murder me and burn my landlady alive.”

  “I’m afraid that was my work,” Ivanov said. “I needed to keep an eye on you, and to do that, I needed to have you nearby. Remember, I was the one who suggested you get a job at the lodge. It worked.”

  She blinked. “And Vasily and Irina?”

  “My work as well. I would have taken care of Vasily before he had a chance to talk to the police, but the caretaker had already notified them. I also took care of that obnoxious Zinkerton, but the recovered evidence was of no use.”

  “So, like the Japanese human experiments in Manchuria, you think of people as ‘logs.’ They justified their torture in the name of war. Ryan”—she looked at him—“you probably justify your actions in the name of national security. And you, Denali”—she stared at him—“you were willing to kill me to protect your pride and reputation.” She waved her hand at all of them. “Ultimately, no matter how you justify it, at your core, all of you simply like killing people.”

  Ivanov shrugged and nodded at Ryan. “In our line of work, we do what’s necessary to accomplish our goals. And you will do that for me, Murphy.”

  “She doesn’t know the code,” Ryan said.

  “That’s where you are wrong, Ryan,” Ivanov said. “Your culture no longer acknowledges what she is. In Russia, she is what we call an Iskatel’ istiny. A truth finder.”

  “What are you talking about?” Ryan asked.

  “She finds the truth, the innermost thoughts and secrets of people, don’t you, Murphy?” Ivanov looked at her. “I knew it the moment Vasily confessed to you. And most of the time you don’t even know what you’ve done, or that they’ve told you something no one else knows. Somewhere in that head of yours is the answer—the key to unlocking the code that protects Paul Stewart’s research.”

  She shook her head. “No, I don’t have it. I’d tell you if I did.”

  “Look, Ivanov, turn me loose.” Ryan struggled with the bindings. “I have drugs and a few choice techniques for getting her to talk. But I don’t think she knows anything.”

  “You are tiresome. And no longer necessary.” Ivanov aimed the gun at Ryan and pulled the trigger.

  The blast of the pistol lingered in the air. Ryan slumped forward.

  Adrenaline flooded Murphy’s system. Her muscles tensed and hands tightened on the sodden grass.

  “Stand up.” Ivanov waved his pistol.

  She stood. Her mind examined then discarded solutions. She had to protect Lucas from that murderous monster.

  “You”—Ivanov pointed to the boy—“get over next to Murphy. Stay next to her.”

  Walking stiff-legged, like he couldn’t feel his legs, Lucas made his way over to her.

  “I’m sure, Murphy, that Ryan told you about the booby trap that blew the hand off a coworker. Imagine what he’d do to keep the wrong person from getting his life’s work. You will open Paul Stewart’s grave, or tomb, or wherever it is he’s hidden the formula. You’ll only have one chance. If you make a mistake, I guarantee the trap he left will kill both you and Lucas.”

  CHAPTER 38

  Murphy’s sweat mixed with the rainwater. She put her arm around the trembling child. “If anything happens, play dead,” she whispered. “Don’t be frightened,” she said louder for Ivanov’s benefit. “I’ll keep you safe.”

  She moved inside the fenced area, staring intently at each grave. All the headstones came from Paul, claiming to be Leif. Denali said as much to her. Paul’s wife had the angel on her grave. Denali’s wife had the praying hands. Lucas’s parents bore the bas-relief of the Gloucester Fisherman’s Memorial. Paul’s memorial was the obelisk with the metal plaque and the cast images of an ant, bird, amphibian, cow, turtle, and shark. Carved above were the words All creatures great and small.

  She remembered Lucas’s words. He studied stuff. I figured out those are invertebrates, birds, amphibians, mammals, reptiles, and fish.

  If she guessed wrong, she’d kill Lucas.

  Don’t guess, Dallas whispered in Murphy’s mind. You know the answer.

  She returned to the image of the Fisherman’s Memorial. Paul’s work had killed Denali’s daughter, Paul’s granddaughter. Would he gift the research to her out of guilt? Or entrust it to the angel on his wife’s grave? No. Paul was selfish and greedy. He would have reserved his hiding place for himself. She returned to the obelisk. The squares with the cast animals didn’t look solid. She touched the shark. It moved slightly. One chance. One chance.

  “Stop wasting time,” Ivanov said.

  Operation Fair Cyan. She turned the words over in her head. Ant, bird, amphibian, cow, turtle, and shark. They meant nothing. How was she supposed to break this code? The US government had experts on it for years, didn’t they?

  Wait. Denali had called the shaggy cow a yak. It didn’t look like a yak. It looked like a Scottish Highlander cow. Fair Cyan. If yak was a y, the c would be . . . was that a bird, or could it be a crow? Crow, yak, a would be the ant. That left an n. What started with n? Nurse shark? Newt. All the others were single names. Fair? Was Fair part of the combination? That didn’t match up with the images. Unless . . .

  I figured out those are invertebrates, birds, amphibians, mammals, reptiles, and fish.

  With trembling fingers, Murphy reached up and pushed the shark. The square moved inward about half an inch. Click. The noise sounded abnormally loud in the stillness. She pushed the newt. Click. Ant. Click. Turtle. Click. She paused to wipe her hand on her pants. Crow. Click. Yak. Click. Ant. Click. Finally newt.

  Click. The bronze panel opened fully.

  “Move,” Ivanov ordered.

  She stepped away from the obelisk.

  Ivanov approached and reached inside, pulling out two thick notebooks. His face didn’t change expression. “Move over there.” He indicated a spot near Denali.

  Taking Lucas’s arm, she went to Denali, avoiding the crumpled bodies of Jake and Ryan.

  “You”—he pointed to her—“come with me. I have other uses for you. Go there.” He pointed to a spot farther away from Lucas and his grandfather.

  She shifted, watching his expression.

  He raised the pistol, aiming at Lucas.


  The child’s eyes widened.

  She lunged.

  Ivanov pulled the trigger.

  The bullet struck her in the chest.

  Searing pain smashed through her brain. She crashed to the earth. Blackness enfolded her.

  Ivanov laughed. “How about that? Got two with one bullet.”

  Her mind went dark.

  CHAPTER 39

  The throbbing pain in Murphy’s chest wouldn’t go away. She remained still, hoping it would subside. It didn’t. She tried to remember where she was, why she hurt, and why she was cold and wet.

  Ivanov! Ivanov shot her. She was probably dead. Being dead hurt.

  This is ridiculous. She opened her eyes. Lucas lay underneath her, silent and still.

  Was Ivanov nearby, waiting to pump another round, this time into her head?

  From this angle, the coast was clear. She pushed off of Lucas’s body, grunting. “Lucas?”

  The boy opened one eye. “Can I move now?”

  “Are you hurt?”

  “You squished me.”

  “Outside of being squished, are you hurt?”

  “No.”

  “We have to find out where Ivanov—”

  “A little bit ago I heard a plane taking off from the airfield.”

  “Ah.”

  His face was covered in mud and streaked with tears. “I thought you were dead too.”

  She patted his shoulder. “I’m wearing Elin’s Kevlar vest. Getting hit by a bullet hurts like the dickens, though.”

  She glanced over at Denali, then did a double take. He’d been shot, just like the others. “Listen, Lucas, we have to run from here. More bad people might come.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “For now, run to the car. Don’t look back.”

  “But what about Grandpa?”

  She glanced at the man. His head was thrown back, eyes open, staring at nothing.

  “We’ll get help. Grab Quinn. Go!”

  The boy scurried to the dog, untied him, and ran toward the airfield. Ivanov would be confident he’d killed everyone. Sure enough, he’d placed the pistol he’d taken from her close to her hand. He would have planted the second gun near Jake. Yes, she found it there. It would have looked like she’d gone on a shooting spree before being mowed down by Jake.