by David Grace
“We’ve got to get out of here,” Munroe yelled.
For a second the professor seemed frozen then he dug into his pocket for his keys. Suddenly he jerked his hand out and shouted, “He’s not–”
Kane’s gun wobbling wildly in his hand Danny fired off six shots as fast as he could pull the trigger. Four missed completely. One nicked Munroe’s arm. More by luck than skill the last one struck Ryan in his heart and he was dead before he hit the floor.
In a daze Danny pointed Kane’s Beretta at Bellingham and struggled to his feet. The professor dropped his keys and hurriedly raised his hands.
“Cut me loose!” Kane ordered and nodded toward one of the shelves where Munroe had stacked a plate, a cup, a fork, a spoon and a cheap, stainless steel knife. Danny staggered over, grabbed the blade and a few seconds later sawed through the tape around Kane’s wrists. As soon as his hands were free Greg took the knife and cut through the rest of his bonds while Danny struggled to remain conscious. Once out of the chair Kane retrieved Danny’s gun.
“Face down on the floor!” Kane shouted, pointing the weapon at Bellingham.
“There’s no need–”
“On the floor now or I’ll shoot you dead!” Bellingham made a face and lay on the concrete. “Where’s your phone?” Kane called to Danny, not taking his eyes off the professor.
“Lost it,” Danny said in almost a whisper.
“Professor, reach into your pocket. Very slowly take out your phone and slide it over to me.”
The burner made a skittering sound as it slid across the concrete.
“I’m a federal agent,” Kane said in answer to the “What is your emergency?” question. “My partner has been shot. He needs an ambulance immediately. . . . Danny, where are we?” Danny shook his head and tried to think. “Danny! What’s the address!” Address? Oh, right. Danny recited the location he had given Agent Franks. “Did you get that?” The 911 operator repeated it back. “Tell the paramedics that their call is a federal agent who’s been shot in the line of duty.”
Kane checked Bellingham then moved back to where Danny was leaning against the wall. His arm had dropped and Kane’s gun was now pointing at the floor.
“Danny, don’t close your eyes. You have to stay awake. You’re going into shock.” Kane grabbed a towel from the shelf. “Press this against your shoulder as hard as you can.”
Behind him Kane heard a screech of tires and lights stabbed into the room. Four men with drawn guns raced inside shouting, “FBI! FBI!” Kane recognized Franks and shouted back, “He’s been shot! I’ve called for a bus,” then he turned back to Rosewood.
“Danny, stay with me!”
Danny gave Kane a glassy stare, smiled and collapsed at Greg’s feet.
CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
“I’ve got a bus coming,” Greg called out then knelt next to Rosewood and put pressure on the wound. “Get somebody outside to flag it down and lead it here.” Franks waved at one of his agents who ran toward the front gate. “And do me a favor and hook that guy up.” Behind him Greg heard the sound of cuffs clicking closed.
“Royatt,” Franks called to one of his men and pointed at Danny. Reluctantly Kane let the FBI agent take over first aid. “Are you hurt?” Franks asked once Kane was back on his feet.
“I’ll be all right.” Greg looked around the room in a daze. “That’s Munroe over there.” Franks looked at the body then back at Kane. “The kid shot him dead. Saved my life.” Greg turned his gaze to Bellingham. “That’s the bastard who’s behind all this.” Kane walked over and the professor took a step back.
“I’m invoking my right to be silent.”
“Fine. Just listen. Right now, right this minute, you’re at a fork in the road. If you pick one path you can have a show trial, give interviews, and tell the world everything you were trying to accomplish.” Bellingham tried to keep a poker face but Kane saw a hint of smile creep across his lips. “The other choice is a trip to Gitmo and solitary confinement.”
“You can’t do that!”
“You were going to manufacture a weapon of mass murder. That makes you a terrorist.”
“I’m an American citizen. I have the right to a trial. I have–”
“The right to be silent so shut up. Here’s the deal. You make one phone call and you get the interviews and the show trial. You don’t and you’re going to find out a lot more about the Patriot Act and solitary confinement than you ever wanted to know.”
“I’m not going to incriminate myself,” Bellingham insisted. Kane laughed.
“Incriminate yourself? That guy,” Kane pointed at Munroe, “was killed in the commission of a crime. That triggers the felony-murder rule which means that anyone who was part of that crime, namely you, is himself guilty of murder. We’ve got you dead-bang on murder right here. Then there’s my kidnapping and attempted murder. Then there are your phone calls with Munroe. You’ve got them on tape, right?” Kane asked Franks.
“The wiretap went active today.”
“It was a–” Bellingham started to say then shut his mouth.
“A burner phone?” Franks finished the professor’s sentence for him. “We were set up outside your house and recorded both ends of your conversations. How do you think we knew you had Kane locked up here?”
Bellingham tried to look unconcerned but failed miserably.
“Well, there you go, not that we need all that other stuff. My testimony alone is enough to send you to a federal prison for the rest of your life. So, you’re toast no matter what you do or you don’t do. This is your fork in the road and you need to ask yourself if protecting your snitch is worth keeping the world from hearing your message. Well, is it?”
* * *
The barely audible buzz began just as he was pouring his first cup of coffee.
“What’s that?” Susan asked.
“Work.” His suit coat was draped over one of the dining room chairs and he pulled the cell from the inside pocket on his way out of the room. His wife had long ago become accustomed to calls at odd hours and turned back to her breakfast of oatmeal and herbal tea.
“Yes?”
“We’re OK,” the professor said. “We questioned Kane and he’s got nothing.”
“You’re sure?”
“No man lies under that kind of pressure. Farber is our only loose end. My man will silence him tonight.”
“Any idea how he found out about you?”
“No, but after tonight it won’t matter.”
“What about Kane?”
“He’s dead.”
“Dead!” he hissed. “You were only supposed to find out what he knew!”
“And we did. Did you think we would kidnap and torture a federal agent and then just let him go?”
“I never agreed to anything like that.”
“Please. You knew we killed Brownstein. You knew what was going to happen to Kane when you gave me his home address.”
“Jesus!”
“Farber will be the last one, then it’s smooth sailing. I’ll tell you what. You keep a close watch on your people and let me know if they find out anything about Farber and I’ll give you a five million dollar bonus when we go into production. And that’s just the beginning. There’ll be more money from this product than you ever dreamed of. Are we good?”
“I’m not a murderer.”
“We’ve only done what we had to do. So, are we good?”
Bellingham heard a sigh then, “Yes. We’re good, but Farber has to be the last one.”
“He’s the final loose end. We won’t need to kill anyone else. Call me at six to confirm that your people don’t have any idea where Farber is.”
“All right.”
The phone went dead. He stared at the display for half a second then went back to finish his breakfast. Twenty minutes later, just as he was reaching for his coat and keys, the doorbell rang. He opened it to find two men in white shirts and dark suits. He knew they were federal agents before they even spoke. They
might as well have been carrying a sign.
“Secretary Dawson, I’m FBI Special Agent Ronald Franks. This is Special Agent Amos Royatt.”
“Would you like to come inside–”
“Please place your hands on the wall and spread your legs,” Franks ordered. Dawson just stared at Franks as if he had started speaking in pig Latin. Franks pulled Dawson through the doorway, spun him around and pushed him against the wall.
“What’s this all about? I’m–”
“Roger Dawson, you are under arrest for the murder of a federal official, conspiracy to murder a federal agent, kidnapping of a federal agent and conspiracy to kidnap a federal agent,” Franks patted Dawson down for weapons. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. . . .” Franks’ voice seemed to fade away and then, as if someone else had taken control of his body, Dawson was wracked with sobs.
With snot dripping off Dawson’s chin, Franks cuffed his hands behind his back and he and Royatt half led, half carried Roger Dawson to their car.
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
Allison felt a shadow cross her desk and looked up to see her uncle frowning down at her.
“We need to talk in my office.”
“What’s happened?” she asked once they were behind closed doors.
“Are you still seeing Agent Kane?”
“No.” She almost asked if something had happened to Kane but resisted the impulse. Not having to deal with him being blown up or shot or whatever was a big part of why she had broken things off.
“I just got a call from a friend at Homeland Security. Agent Kane’s partner has been shot.”
“Is he . . . alive?” she asked, finally settling on the alternative of life rather than death.
“They think he’ll make it. Infection is always a risk but he’s young and healthy so he should be all right.” Denning studied Allison’s face but couldn’t interpret her expression. Sadness mixed with determination? “We need to go visit him.”
“Was Kane’s partner helping you with something?”
“He was shot in the course of saving Agent Kane’s life.”
“So, someone was trying to kill Greg and his partner stopped them? Why were they. . . . no, never mind. Was Greg shot too?”
“No. He’s banged up quite a bit but basically OK.”
Allison nervously fluttered her fingers then looked up. “Well, all right, I’ll cancel your ten o’clock and I can take the meeting with the Department of Transportation people.”
“Eric can handle that. We’re both going.”
“I don’t see why I need to go.”
“Why did you break up with Kane?”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Allison snapped.
“You’re family, Allison, and I care about you, very much.”
“And I care about you. Look, Greg just wasn’t. . . . we weren’t a good match, that’s all.”
“Brian’s been dead for two years.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” Allison said, her eyes beginning to glimmer with faint tears.
Denning stared at her then sighed. “No, honey, I don’t think that you do.”
“Why is everybody nagging me about this? It’s nobody’s business! Go, go visit this agent and let me do my job.”
“Your job is coming to the hospital with me.”
“I don’t want–”
“Kane almost got himself killed doing a favor for me and as much as you don’t want to admit it there was something between you and him as well. We have an obligation and we always pay our debts. Get your coat.”
* * *
Greg paced the hallway and periodically glanced at the woman who had introduced herself as Danny’s girlfriend. She seemed very young but then Rosewood seemed young too. Maybe I’m just getting old, Greg thought.
“We were watching TV when Danny got the call that you were in trouble,” Diane said when she caught Kane looking at her. “He just grabbed his gun and ran out. I told him to be careful,” she added as if suggesting that Danny might not have been hurt if he had taken her advice. “But I guess that’s part of the job, isn’t it?” she added with a quick, nervous smile.
Kane stared at her and didn’t know what to say. Most cops went their whole careers without firing their gun outside the range. Looked at that way this was a once in a lifetime event, but he couldn’t promise her that it would never happen again. You didn’t get to control things like that. Look at me, he thought.
Behind them the elevator dinged and Kane saw Allison and Senator Denning heading toward them. The thought Maybe she’s changed her mind flashed through his head then died when he noticed the pinched look on her face.
“Senator,” Kane said, holding out his hand.
“Agent Kane. We heard about your partner and rushed right over. Is he going to be all right?”
“They say he’ll be fine. The doctor’s in there with him now. Oh, this is Diane . . . .”
“Diane Odermatt,” the girl said and accepted the Senator’s hand.
“She’s Danny’s . . . friend. Diane, this is Senator Denning and his niece, Allison Varner.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Diane said and glanced down the hall. “Ummm, I’m going to get a cup of coffee. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“I heard that you had something of a close call,” Denning said to Greg.
“He saved my life.” Kane glanced at the door to Danny’s room. When he turned back Allison looked like she was going to be sick.
“We’re very glad he did,” Denning said. “I understand that this lunatic you caught was planning on flooding the country with some kind of toxic drug. What’s wrong with people?” Denning asked, not expecting an answer. “Anyway, please take care of yourself, Agent Kane. We can’t afford to lose men like you. If you ever need anything make sure you call me.”
“Thank you, senator,” Kane said. He risked another look at Allison but she wouldn’t meet his eyes.
“I assume you haven’t had a chance to listen to the news this morning?” Denning asked.
“No, I’ve been a little busy.”
“The Supreme Court’s going to announce their decision in the gun case next Wednesday. I wonder if you saving Justice Hopper’s life has had any effect on the result.”
“It’s not my job to worry about things like that,” Kane replied because that was what he was supposed to say.
Denning looked at his watch. “I’ve got a committee meeting in a few minutes. I just wanted you to know how much I appreciate everything that you and your partner have done.” They shook hands and Denning and Allison turned to go.
“Allison, could you stay for a minute?” Kane asked, his tongue running ahead of his brain.
“I have to–”
“No, it’s fine,” Denning interrupted. “Stay here and talk with Agent Kane. Petty cash will cover your cab fare back.” The senator hurried off before Allison could object.
“Thanks,” Kane said once Denning was gone. “I just wanted to–”
Behind him the door opened and a young Asian doctor stepped out. “He can have visitors but only for a few minutes,” he said and then rushed off. Danny waved at Kane through the open door.
“Could you wait for me for a minute? Please?”
Allison glanced at Kane’s partner. He looked like a teenager costumed in bandages for a high school play. He smiled at her.
“All right,” she agreed and paced across the hall. Kane went in and closed the door behind him. A moment later Diane returned with a cardboard cup filled with a coffee-like substance.
“Greg just went in,” Allison said. “I don’t think he’ll be very long.” Diane sipped at the coffee and made a sour face.
“At least it’s got caffeine.” She gave Allison a weak smile. “Are you and Agent Kane . . . together?”
“No,” Allison answered, a little too quickly and too emphatically Diane t
hought. “He handled an investigation, of sorts, for my uncle. I work in his office, my uncle’s office, so I . . . he brought me along.”
“Oh,” Diane said, hearing more than Allison intended to say. “Well, he seems like a great guy. Danny just worships him.”
“He’s a very good investigator I’m sure.”
“Oh, that’s not why Danny likes him, I mean, he respects his abilities and all but it’s more than that. When Agent Kane’s old partner died Danny wasn’t even technically an investigator. He was in tech support but Agent Kane saw Danny’s potential and he picked him out of all the people in the office to be his new partner. He trained him, taught him things. He believed in Danny.
“You know,” Diane said, lowering her voice almost to a whisper, “the FBI agent told me that Danny was the only one that Agent Kane trusted. It’s true,” Diane said as if Allison had given some sign of disbelief. “Agent Kane told the FBI that if anything happened to him, if anything went wrong, that Danny was the only person he should tell. And he was right,” Diane said, tears suddenly beginning to slide down her cheeks. “When Agent Kane needed help Danny was the one who found him. Danny was the one who saved him.” Diane let out a little sob and hunted through her purse for a tissue.
Allison watched the girl wipe her face and all she could think was, What’s wrong with you? Being Kane’s partner almost got your boyfriend killed.
“Are you and Danny engaged?” Allison asked, anxious to change the subject.