Close Your Eyes

by Iris Johansen

  “He wants it done. He’s giving you bull.” She looked at Briggs. “Yes or no? Last chance. Once they put you away, I’ll do everything I can to keep you from being tested. I want you dead, Briggs.”

  Her sincerity must have been clear to him.

  He scowled. “Do it,” he said harshly.

  “Open your mouth.” Sienna picked up two toothbrush-sized swabs and carefully scraped the inside of each cheek. “That should do it.” She turned and placed one of the swabs in a clear glass tube. “Okay, this will only take a minute or so. The liquid will turn a bright blue if he’s been infected.”

  “I ain’t got it,” Briggs said. “I wasn’t around that stuff much at all. Just a couple times when—” He broke off, then stared at the tube. “It’s not changing. See?”

  “She said it would take a minute,” Kendra said. “Shut up, Briggs.”

  “I ain’t going to shut—”

  He was staring at the liquid, which suddenly darkened into an opaline blue.

  “Positive.” Sienna looked up from the tube. “And strongly advanced. Being so close to the source must have increased the—”

  “You’re lying.” Briggs was pale. “I ain’t gonna die. Not because of some crap like this.”

  “You will unless we can find an antidote,” Kendra said. “And since we don’t know what the hell we’re dealing with, that may take some time. Talk, Briggs.”

  “I’m not telling you anything else,” he said hoarsely. “This could all be a trick. I want to see a lawyer.”

  “By all means,” Lynch said. “Sienna, tell the agents outside to come in and take Briggs into custody. Let him sit in a cell for a night and think about how his buddy Laird let him breathe that poison without even warning him.” He gazed into Briggs’s eyes. “We’ll be there first thing in the morning, and if you tell us more of what we need to know, we might work on getting that antidote and keeping you alive.”

  “It’s a trick. I’m going to live. I don’t have that crap inside me.”

  “How much time does he have, Sienna?” Kendra asked.

  She shrugged. “I have no idea. I’ve been dealing with dead bodies and one survivor who was almost dead. It’s advanced. It could be a week or two. Or it could be sooner.” She looked at Briggs. “You’d be smart to tell us what we want to know so that we can get to the bottom of this illness.”

  “I’m okay. I want my own doctor. Not some FBI—” He was breathing hard. “You’re all lying.”

  “Whatever.” Sienna moved toward the front door. “I’ll call in the guys on stakeout.”

  “Do that.” Kendra followed Sienna to the door. “Were you just trying to help us pressure him?” she asked in a low voice. “Lies or truth?”

  “Truth,” Sienna said as she started down the steps. “He’s probably a dead man.”

  Kendra turned back to Briggs as she closed the door behind Sienna. “You’re sure you don’t want to talk to us? We need addresses, names, anything to do with that substance.” She paused. “Anything to do with Jeff Stedler.”

  “Screw you.” He was breathing hard, as if he were running. “I don’t have to tell you anything more. Do you know what Laird would do to me? I’ll get my lawyer to make you get me that antidote. I’ve got rights.”

  And the sad thing was that the justice system would bend over backward to give this murderer his constitutional rights, Kendra thought. Even if it meant he would eventually walk out of that courtroom a free man. “That will take time. You may not have time. We’ll be visiting you tomorrow morning. If you’re smart, you’ll reconsider. Lawyers are good at stalling but not—” She broke off as Sienna and four FBI agents streamed into the room.

  Sienna glanced at her inquiringly as the agents surrounded Briggs and fired questions at Lynch. “Any luck?”

  She shook her head. “He’s shut up tight now, but we may be able to use some of the info he gave us before.”

  “What info? Griffin will—”

  “We’re not going to leave Griffin out in the cold,” Lynch said as he joined them. “Though Briggs didn’t give us enough to wrap anything up. Maybe Griffin will have better luck with him.”

  “He gave us one thing,” Kendra said. “The warehouse.”

  Lynch nodded and turned on his heel. “Let’s go find it.”

  “You should inform Agent Griffin,” Sienna called after them as Kendra joined Lynch as he went out the door. “He won’t like your going off on your own. This is an official investigation, and—”

  “Keep us informed on Briggs,” Kendra tossed back over her shoulder. The next moment, she was hurrying after Lynch as he headed for the car. “And how are we to find this warehouse?” she asked as she got into the passenger seat. “Briggs clammed up before we got details.”

  “But we have the name of the substance. Pegasus. We know that Charles Schuyler, the CEO of Thatcher Pharmaceuticals, is up to his neck in this mess.” He pulled out his phone. “And we should have the photos of Schuyler and Denton we requested from Griffin earlier. There they are. Griffin marked the photos with a letter over each of their heads to identify them. Look happy, don’t they?”

  The two men were sitting at a banquet table and smiling into the camera. They both appeared to be in their fifties or early sixties. The surgeon, Denton, was tall, a little lanky, with dark hair that was receding slightly. His eyes were light, blue or gray, and his smile was bright and confident. Schuyler was heavier, with a shock of gray-threaded dark hair and an olive complexion. He was also smiling, but there was a tinge of cynicism in the curve of his lips. “They seem … close.”

  “Bound by a mutual lust for the long green?” He glanced down at the phone. “And here’s the shot of Oscar Laird, whom Briggs was telling us about.”

  Laird was a powerfully built fortyish man with a dirty blond crew cut and handsome, craggy features.

  “Griffin’s being very cooperative,” Kendra said dryly. “He’s evidently trying to give us everything we might want or need.”

  “I’ll take it.” He was driving down the boulevard toward the freeway. “At any rate, we need to ask all of them a good many questions. Schuyler, first. Let’s head for the Thatcher offices at Rancho Bernardo.” Then he suddenly slowed and pulled off the street onto a supermarket parking lot. “But I need to get some other answers before I chat with Schuyler.” He was dialing his phone. “My old friend, Jamerson. It’s time you met the gentleman. I’m putting the call on speaker.”

  “Not yet.” Kendra stopped him and started to dial. “I want to make another call first. It’s more important.”

  “To whom?”

  But her call had already been picked up. “Olivia, we’ve got him. His name is Tommy Briggs, and he’s in FBI custody.”

  “You’re sure it’s the right man?”

  She chuckled. “You’re damn right. He even had the burn mark from your skillet on his face. That will do until the DNA evidence comes in. I thought you’d rest better knowing that the bastard is off the streets. But since we gave you your going-home present a little ahead of time, you’d better concentrate on getting out of that hospital.”

  “I’ll work on it.” She paused. “Thank you, Kendra.”

  “My pleasure. Believe me, truly my pleasure.” She hung up. She turned to Lynch. “Sorry. Now you can make your call.”

  He was dialing. “No problem. I agree that calling Olivia was more important.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  The call at the Justice Department was answered on the third ring. “Jamerson. What the hell is happening, Lynch?”

  “That’s what we want to know. Kendra Michaels is on speaker, Jamerson. You’ll remember she figured prominently in my reports.”

  Silence. “Call me back later.”

  “No way. She’s entitled.” He paused. “And we’re entitled to know why you were so interested in what Jeff Stedler was doing here.”

  “It’s confidential.”

  “Really? And was what wa
s being concocted at Panama City, Florida, in October of 2004 also confidential?”

  He repeated warily, “Panama City?”

  “Let me help you. Pegasus 1?”

  He inhaled sharply. “Where did you hear that name?”

  “I sincerely wish it had been from you, Jamerson. Instead, you let me stumble around in the dark.”

  “That’s because Pegasus 1 no longer exists. The last of it was destroyed in 2005.”

  “It does exist. It’s here in San Diego getting ready to be shipped to the Middle East.”

  “That’s not possible.”

  “It’s real, and I think you knew about it. Who told you? Stedler?”

  “He told me something, not enough. He never mentioned the Pegasus Project. You’re positive you’re not mistaken?”

  “I’m sure we’re on the right track. I won’t be positive about anything until you tell me what we’re dealing with here, Jamerson. Stop tying my hands. Talk to me.”

  Jamerson hesitated. “Stedler said he had a confidential source who tipped him off about a lethal project under way. He was extremely protective of this source, and he refused to give his—or her—name even to me. He said it might be a job for Homeland Security.”

  “Then how did you become involved?”

  “Well, I suppose he trusted me. At the time, he didn’t know what the project was. He speculated it might even be materials for some kind of explosive device. He said he was working with this source to get a sample of whatever it was that they were producing.”

  “Well, he got it,” Lynch said. “It somehow ended up all over the floor of his apartment when they grabbed him.” He added grimly, “And he hasn’t been seen since.”

  “Shit. He was in way over his head. If this is truly the Pegasus Project, then it’s more dangerous than Stedler could have imagined.”

  “I’m still waiting for you to tell me what it is.”

  Jamerson was silent.

  “Oh, for God’s sake, Jamerson. Maybe you’d rather sit on your ass and let that nasty brew be shipped out of the country? We just may be able to stop it.”

  “I think it’s time we brought in Griffin and the FBI.”

  “So that you don’t get stung and brought up before Congress for mishandling a national emergency? I’ve every intention of bringing Griffin into this, but not before I know what I’m doing. Tell me about the Pegasus Project.”

  Jamerson hesitated, then started to speak quickly and concisely. “It was a highly speculative project, one of those pie-in-the-sky things that no one thought had a real chance of succeeding. The idea is that a population center could be infected with an airborne contaminant that, on its own, would be harmless. Those infected could live for the rest of their lives with no ill effects. Then, at any time, be it days or even years later, a second airborne formula could be dropped, and it would kill those people instantly. But anyone who had not been exposed to the first substance would be unharmed.”

  Lynch nodded. “So a whole town could be wiped out in minutes, but invading troops on the ground would still be fine.”

  Kendra shook her head. “That’s monstrous.”

  “A large portion of the population would agree with you,” Jamerson said. “But aside from the obvious public-relations problems, the formulas never worked properly. The two formulas, Pegasus 1 and Pegasus 2 as they were called, were tested extensively on animals. Pegasus 2 was supposed to be harmless to anyone who hadn’t already been exposed to Pegasus 1, but it always made a certain portion of the test population seriously ill, and even killed some.”

  “What does Panama City have to do with it?” Kendra asked.

  “That’s where the lab was set up during those first years between 2003 and 2005.”

  “And Denton was in charge?”

  “No, they set up a complete dummy operation. Denton was the big cheese, the creative mind, and they didn’t want anyone to know he was connected with the project. He worked off by himself and was brought into town at crucial points in the experiment.”

  “How was Thatcher Pharmaceuticals involved?”

  “It wasn’t. It was purely a military project.”

  “And what was Denton’s reaction when the military canceled his project?”

  “Rage. Accusations. He’s pretty much of an egomaniac. He liked being the fair-haired boy, the genius behind the scenes. Only according to Hal Spander at Homeland Security, it was pretty obvious that he would have preferred to be center stage.”

  “So how did they control him?”

  “He quieted down after a while. He had some other pulmonary scuba meds on the fire that were bringing him favorable attention. He got a lot of public ego stroking and finally stopped brooding and dropped his protests.”

  “He might have dropped the protests, but I think the brooding continued,” Lynch said. “Homeland Security wasn’t keeping an eye on him?”

  “Of course, they were. But as I said, Pegasus was extremely sensitive and complex to create even if you had the formulas. It took years of skilled, knowledgeable scientists to produce the supply we had at the lab in Panama City. After it was destroyed, we didn’t have much to worry about. We just checked on Denton occasionally to make sure he wasn’t doing anything questionable.”

  “It didn’t occur to you that when he teamed up with Thatcher Pharmaceuticals, that might be questionable?” Lynch asked sarcastically.

  “I wasn’t involved. It was a Homeland Security problem.” He paused. “Until I got the call from Jeff Stedler. He said there was something ugly going on down there in San Diego that I should look into. I didn’t know until this moment that it was the Pegasus Project.”

  “And he never called you back,” Kendra said quietly. “So you sent in Lynch.”

  “Blind,” Lynch added bitterly.

  “I told you, I didn’t realize that Stedler was investigating Denton. He just said there was something ugly going on.”

  “Well, I told you I’d find out what the dirty little secrets were all about,” Lynch said bitterly. “You could have helped more, dammit.”

  “I’m telling you now, aren’t I?”

  “Because that Pegasus Project scared you shitless.”

  “This could all be a false alarm,” Jamerson said. “I don’t see how Denton could have reproduced those formulas. He did the basic work, but there were several scientists who had input in the finished product. Remember, he could never get them to work correctly.”

  “Maybe, with the resources of a multinational corporation, he was able to lick it.”

  “Still, it would be a logistical nightmare to develop it in secret and perform the clinical trials with all the trial and error that entails.”

  “But it sounds like he already has the first formula,” Kendra said. “Briggs said the containers he saw looked old, and the boxes were from Panama City, Florida. The most logical scenario would be that Dr. Denton found a way to prevent the finished product of Pegasus 1 from being destroyed. Or at least a good portion of it. He kept it hidden away until he had found a partner to help him continue refining the second formula.”

  “Pegasus 2, which they could never get to work correctly during the official project,” Lynch added.

  “So Schuyler with Thatcher Pharmaceuticals showed up on the scene and they became a team.” She made a face. “Or should I say a Deadly Duo? They obviously found a buyer for their weapon of mass destruction. The only thing I’m wondering is how those murder victims were infected with the substance.”

  “They still needed to run tests as they developed it,” Lynch said. “It would have been relatively easy to pick random victims and expose them to an airborne mist. In fact, it would have been safer for them if the victims were chosen at random.”

  Random, in the same way they had planned to unleash that contaminant on millions of unsuspecting people. Kendra shuddered. “Hideous.”

  “And they realized that some of their subjects were infected with a version of the formula that still didn’t
work,” Lynch said suddenly. “At least not the way it was supposed to. Remember, the goal was for the second formula, Pegasus 2, to be harmless by itself. But Denton, Schuyler, and company realized that those unknowing test subjects were going to get sick. So those people were murdered before they could manifest symptoms.”

  Kendra nodded. “Unusual symptoms, like premature aging of the organs and who knows what else that might be recognized by a savvy medical examining team.”

  “Or it could have been an accidental exposure like what happened to Leon Sanders,” Lynch said. “And Stephanie Marsh might not have been random since she worked for Denton. I’m leaning toward a combination of both motivations.”

  “This conjecture is all very well,” Jamerson said coldly. “But it’s not stopping the situation from becoming critical. When I hang up, I’m calling Homeland Security and Griffin myself and telling them everything. I’d suggest you get moving and try to stop Denton in his tracks. That Pegasus mutagen mustn’t leave the country.”

  “From your description, I wouldn’t say Dr. Denton is the principal problem,” Lynch said. “He may have started the ball rolling, but Schuyler is the heavy hitter. He’s the one who hires the big guns.”

  “Stop them. Both of them.” Jamerson hung up.

  “You heard him,” Lynch said sarcastically. “The great man said that we should take care of them. Too bad he didn’t give us a hint how to do that.”

  “Rancho Bernardo,” Kendra said. “Nothing’s changed except we know more about what’s going on. Let’s go see Schuyler.”

  He glanced at her as he started the car and drove out of the parking lot. “You look … charged. I didn’t expect that reaction.”

  “Charged? Are you crazy? Do you think I’m enjoying this? How could I? It’s too serious. It scares me. The idea of that horrible substance killing people without them even knowing they’re targeted. And the sheer callousness of selling that stuff to a country that wants only to kill us.” She shivered. “I can’t understand it. I can’t understand them. Do you wonder that I want to stay as far away as I can from men like Denton and Schuyler?”

  “No, but someone has to deal with them,” he said quietly. “Stedler knew that.” He paused. “And you know it, too. You may hate it, but it won’t stop you. I don’t see you backing away.”