by Peter Darley
After several minutes, he reached the exit and hurried out, gasping for air. The long entrance road was ahead of him, but despite his breathlessness, he knew he had to run as fast as he could. In the distance, he heard another chorus of sirens. This time, there were more than just fire engines coming.
A few yards past the flower gardens, he looked to his left and saw a cluster of trees. They would provide him with temporary cover and invisibility. The death and destruction inside the building would create a moment of disarray, distracting the incoming personnel. He hadn’t a moment to waste.
Urgently, he ran toward the trees, just as the first wave of fire trucks and police cars appeared. Once inside the cluster, he succumbed to another bout of coughing, but staggered on to the end.
With a struggle, he made it through the trees and sprinted across the remaining grass. At the end, he discovered a road and a sprawling parking lot on the other side. The cars would provide him with further cover.
He looked up and saw two FBI helicopters heading in the direction of CIA headquarters.
Looking around him frantically, he spotted a man in a suit stepping out of a silver Lotus Exige. A fast car. The man seemed to be transfixed by the smoke and flames rising from the New Headquarters Building.
“Hey, buddy,” Drake said, feigning fear.
The man rushed toward him. “Are you OK? What happened?”
“I’m a politics student. I was trying to talk to someone in there for help with a research assignment. Before I could even ask, there was some kind of a terrorist attack. They’re all dead.”
“Oh, my God!”
Drake joined the man, and together they moved toward the Lotus. “You know what?” Drake said.
“What?”
“That’s a really nice car.”
Forty-Four
Aftermath
Two days had passed since Firestorm. Jack Brenham sat with his chair turned from his desk, deep in thought. Coroners were still collecting the remains of the dead, and a constant FBI presence remained in the building.
The press added further concern. It had been a national crisis event, and ‘no comment’ simply wasn’t acceptable. The public had the right to know. But revelations of a major corruption in the intelligence community, mind control operations, and a faked death, would cause a major panic. The president’s advisors were frantically trying to formulate an ‘official story.’
Brenham was aware he was sinking into depression, which was something he couldn’t allow.
He was drawn out of his thoughts by a knock on his door. “Come in,” he said, trying to sound stronger than he felt.
He turned to see the saddened faces of Jed Crane and Wentworth Cullen. “It’s good to see you boys. Thanks for coming in.”
“Is there anything we can do, sir?” Jed said.
“Not right now. I’m just glad you both made it.”
“So are we. How many did we lose?”
“So far, the death toll stands at four-hundred-twenty-six. Only two members of Nemesis survived. It’s ironic. Garrett and Kerwin are still alive, only because they were contained. That’ll soon change. They’re both facing the death penalty for treason and murder.”
“Did Assistant Director Hayes make it?” Jed asked.
“Yes. Deborah and Carrie were with her. They’re fine too.”
Jed gave a sigh of relief. “Cullen and I got out through the west entrance. It wasn’t easy. They were everywhere we turned. What happened after the FBI got here?”
“It was quick. Strategic, efficient, and well-organized. They swept the complex in units and dispatched all of the hostiles. Unfortunately, Drake escaped.”
“Escaped? How?” Jed exclaimed.
“The bulk of the damage downstairs was caused by a thermo-neutron incendiary. Drake did it.”
Cullen lowered his head. “Oh, my God.”
Brenham noticed his horrified tone. “What is it?”
“I was interrogating him about the equipment he stole from Mach Industries. His weapons were in the interrogation room when the attack happened. I took his rifle and locked him in the room. I thought nothing of it. He was chained to the chair.”
“It wasn’t your fault, Wentworth,” Brenham said. “You did what you had to do.”
Jed turned back to the director. “What about Wilmot?”
“He’s dead. Decapitated. He must’ve run into Drake. After Drake got out, we believe he killed an executive in one of the parking lots and took off in the guy’s Lotus.”
“Well, isn’t that a way we can track him?” Jed said. “We know what car he’s driving.”
Brenham shook his head. “Drake’s too smart for that. The car was found abandoned in the same wooded lot where he left the TS-3. No traffic cameras anywhere. He knows what he’s doing. He wouldn’t have been driving it for more than thirty minutes.”
“So, what are you gonna do?”
“I’ve arranged for a nationwide manhunt with every police department and FBI office in the country. We’re going to try to avoid public involvement, although the Texas Highway Patrol is alerting Belinda Reese and the Faradays.”
Jed rubbed his eyes, clearly fatigued. “Are you sure there’s nothing we can do?”
“You can go home, Jed. Take some time to get your life back. I’ll call you in when headquarters is back in shape. There’ll be a memorial service for the deceased operatives. I have to compose a speech in honor of Elias Wolfe, too. He was a distinguished member of the CIA before he was appointed director of SDT. I’m arranging for a star for him on the Memorial Wall. I’d like you to be there.”
“All right. Thank you, sir.”
Brenham looked up at Cullen. “You too, Wentworth.”
“Yes, sir.”
“What are you going to do, Director?” Jed said.
“So much, I don’t even know where to begin. I have to contact Dr. Steven McKay, for one.”
“Martyn McKay’s brother?”
“Yeah. He was the one who instigated the investigation into Treadwell’s faction to begin with. Elias Wolfe was working on it when he was murdered.”
“All right, sir. If you need us for anything, you know where to find us.”
“Thank you, Jed.”
Crane and Cullen exited the room, leaving Brenham to his contemplations. He sat back in his chair and his woe returned. So much death. How could we have screwed up so badly?
***
Patricia White stepped into her home in McLean, Virginia. At thirty-two, her occupation as a genetics research scientist demanded her working hours were often long, although she rarely noticed. It was more than her profession. It was her passion.
She looked around her comfortable, suburban abode as she had done each day for the last three months. It was so lonely. Her fiancé, Jed Crane, had disappeared eleven weeks earlier. She couldn’t understand it. SDT may have operated from CIA headquarters under the jurisdiction of Jack Brenham, but its personnel were not subject to the same rules of secrecy. If Jed had still been a mainstream CIA agent it would have made more sense, even though she’d have been none the wiser. But as a member of SDT, he was under no obligation to keep his occupation secret from his nearest and dearest.
She’d contacted Jed’s director, Wilmot, and he’d promised to look into his disappearance, but nothing had happened. Jed had vanished, and she didn’t know if he was dead or alive. The recent news reports and footage of ‘an incident for which there was no comment’ at CIA headquarters, compounded her disquiet.
She entered the bedroom and discarded her purse on the bed, the sight of which, had, of late, caused her to become saddened. She’d become aware of how she still slept on her side of the bed, even though Jed wasn’t with her.
Turning to a mirror on the wall, she noticed the sadness in her eyes. Habits such as makeup and lipstick had fallen by the wayside weeks ago. Her brunette hair was pulled back into bun—the simplest way of not having to concern herself with hairstyling.
Sh
e heard a click at the door and turned with a start. “Who’s there?”
Footsteps approached from the hallway, and she fearfully backed away.
A tall, scruffy, unshaven man appeared in the bedroom doorway. The fear fell away from her as she processed his face. He looked so different. “Jed?” His name fell from her lips with uncontrollable emotion.
Jed came closer and held her. “Oh, baby. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He pulled away slightly and looked into her tear-filled eyes.
“W-what happened? Where have you been?” she said. “I’ve been going out of my mind. You left one morning in April and just disappeared.”
“I had no choice, baby. My life was in danger. I couldn’t even contact you because it would have endangered you. But it’s all over now. I have so much to tell you, I don’t even know where to begin.”
“It’s all right. You’re back, and that’s all that matters.”
“Look, I really need a shower and a change of clothes. I’m a wreck. After I’ve got myself cleaned up, I’ll tell you the whole story. OK?”
Within an hour, Jed had shaved, showered, and changed. He entered the living room and noticed Patricia’s warm eyes gazing at him with undeniable joy. A bottle of champagne and two glasses sat on a glass table before her. Now that he was cleaned up, he knew his appearance would make her feel more at ease. He was himself again.
“I can’t tell you how I’ve longed to see you again,” she said. “Just to know you were alive.”
“Believe me, babe, you’ve been in my every thought.”
“So, what happened? I need to know, Jed.”
“All right. But what I’m about to tell you must go no farther. The president is working on ways of explaining it to the public. I shouldn’t even be telling you.”
“You have my word.”
Jed sat down beside her, opened the champagne, and poured them both a glass. “On the morning I left to go to work, it was just another day at SDT. It had been a long day, and I was working overtime. I had a call from Director Wolfe, and he wanted me to accompany Wilmot, and two others, Kerwin and Rhodes, to Nevada, on an investigation into Brandon Drake.”
“Brandon Drake?”
“Yeah. By the next day, I realized something was seriously wrong. Drake and I found ourselves running for our lives.”
As Jed continued his extraordinary tale, his mind became filled with thoughts of Drake. He couldn’t come to terms with the monster his friend had become. Where was he at that moment? And who would be his next victim?
Forty-Five
The Call
Belinda, Emily, Tyler, Nikki, and Charlton returned to the ranch to discover forensics had left the place in considerable disarray.
“Just great,” Charlton said.
“It’s not that bad, Dad,” Tyler said. “We’ll get a cleaning crew in. It shouldn’t take more than a couple of days to straighten it out.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” Charlton turned to Belinda and Emily. “How are you ladies coping?”
“Still pretty shaken,” Belinda said. “It’s good to be home, but it’s difficult to get our heads around it all.”
“Just take it one day at a time. We’re here for you.”
She smiled sadly and gave him a hug. “Thank you, Charlton.”
“When do you have to talk to the police again?”
“Tomorrow, apparently. It’s going to be horrendous. Emily and I are going to have to give detailed statements of what happened to my mom. We may be subpoenaed to give evidence at Brandon’s trial. I just don’t know how I’m going to cope looking at his face across a courtroom giving evidence against him. I just keep thinking this can’t be real.”
Charlton looked down thoughtfully. “I’ll see if I can pull some strings so you don’t have to go through that. Maybe they can set up a live-link in the court, or even take a deposition.”
There was a knock at the door, and Charlton walked over to answer it. A short, middle-aged woman with a Latin appearance waited in the doorway. “Inez?”
“I came as soon as I heard you were back,” she said in a thick, Spanish accent.
“Oh, Inez. I don’t expect you to clean all this up by yourself.”
“Don’t worry, Mr. Faraday. The sooner I get started, the sooner it’ll be done.”
“Thank you, Inez, but I’m getting a cleaning firm in to help you.” Charlton smiled at the loyal, conscientiousness of his cleaning lady of fourteen years. He’d be sure to reward her handsomely.
As she walked past him, he noticed the sheriff’s car heading toward the house along the entrance road. Oh, hell. This is it. He waited while the sheriff pulled up and climbed out of the car. “Good afternoon, Al.”
“Charlton. How’s it looking in there?”
“Like we’ve been robbed.”
Al looked at him awkwardly. “I’m sorry about that, Charlton. I really am.”
“Don’t worry about it. I have everything in order. What can I do for you?”
“Mind if I come in?”
“Sure.”
The sheriff followed Charlton inside and closed the door behind him.
Tyler appeared at the end of the corridor. “Hi, Sheriff.”
“Hi, Tyler.”
“You’re not going to interview Belinda and Emily now, are you?” Charlton said. “They’re both pretty shaken up.”
“No, it’s nothing to do with that.”
“So what is it?”
The sheriff gestured to the living room. “Can we talk in private?”
Once alone in the living room, Charlton turned to the sheriff with some impatience. “So, what’s this all about, Al?”
“Have you seen the news?”
“No, I’ve been busy moving out of a hotel.”
“You haven’t heard about the incident at Langley?”
“What incident at Langley?”
“The FBI contacted me. They’re on the way over here, and I wanted to give you a heads up. A war broke out at CIA headquarters. I don’t know what it was all about, but at the time, Brandon Drake was in custody, and he escaped.”
“Are you serious?”
“There’s a nationwide APB out on him. They’re worried he’s going after Ms. Reese after the incident with her mother, and him tracking her to Fort Bragg.”
“You’re sure about this?”
“I’m only going by what I was told by the FBI. They spoke to the agent who interrogated him, and he was adamant Drake wanted to kill her. They’re keeping it out of the press.”
Charlton sank onto the couch. “Oh, Jesus. Isn’t this ever gonna end?”
Charlton and the sheriff were startled as Tyler walked in with Nikki.
“I’m taking Nikki to the office with me,” Tyler said. “I have to finalize the Osborne contract, and then we’re going out for dinner tonight.”
Concern suddenly came over Charlton at the thought of them going out alone with Drake on the loose. “That’s fine, but . . . I was meaning to ask you. I thought you guys were supposed to be recording in L.A.”
“We recorded all available tracks, Mr. Faraday,” Nikki said. “I need a few weeks to write the rest of the album.”
A curious glint appeared in Tyler’s eyes. “Why the change of heart, Dad? You weren’t exactly a fan of the idea.”
“Oh, don’t mind me. I was just surprised. I think it’s great that you’re branching out.”
“Good to know, Dad. Catch you later.” With that, they left.
“Are you thinking they’ll be safer in L.A., Charlton?” Al said.
“Can you blame me?”
“Wait for the FBI to get here. They’ll be able to advise you. It’ll probably mean you guys have to move out again until they grab him.”
“I know.”
Belinda walked out of the kitchen as Charlton was showing the sheriff to the door.
“It was good seeing you, Charlton.”
“You too, Al.”
The sheriff noticed Belinda and shot
her a sheepish smile. She didn’t reciprocate.
Charlton closed the door and turned to her. “Don’t worry. It wasn’t about you. I’ll be upstairs. I want to see how bad it is up there.”
“Sure.”
Belinda returned to the kitchen where Emily was making a pot of coffee.
“Is everything OK?” Emily said.
“I’m not sure. The sheriff was just here. Charlton said it wasn’t anything to do with us, but I can’t get past the funny look the sheriff gave me. Something’s wrong. I just know it.”
“You’ve been through hell. We both have. You’re probably just a little jittery.”
The phone rang in hallway.
“Let Charlton or Inez get it,” Emily said.
“You’re right. I don’t feel like being sociable.”
Moments later, the call was answered. Inez’s distant response could be heard from the kitchen.
Emily smiled. “See? Want a coffee?”
“Sure.”
Inez entered the kitchen. “Ms. Reese?”
“Yes.”
“There’s a call for you.”
“Who is it?”
“He wouldn’t say. He just said he wanted to talk to you.”
Belinda walked out of the kitchen without a word. It’s got to be the feds. With trembling fingers, she picked up the phone and put it to her ear. “Hello?”
“I could’ve killed them all.”
Belinda felt her knees buckling and her stomach turned over. No. It can’t be. “W-why are you doing this?”
“It will all stop if you meet me. If you don’t, I’ll kill every last damn one of them.”
Her mind became numb. He was asking her to sacrifice her own life. It was her life, or the lives of Emily, Tyler, Nikki, Charlton, and whoever may get in his way. She knew it had to end. But it wasn’t just her life she’d be sacrificing. It was her baby’s life too. His baby.
Then she remembered the time he killed her mother. Something happened to him. He’d collapsed and couldn’t make a move toward her. She was so certain her Brandon was still locked inside him somewhere, and he wouldn’t allow The Scorpion to kill her. If she could get him to their special place, perhaps she would have more of a chance of bringing him back. It might cause the memories of their happiness together to return to him. With so many other lives in danger, she had to try. “All right. I know just the place.”