Kit turned into the back entrance to the Centre, punching in the access code to open the gate, "You don't think that she is one of them? She can't be Honey, we both read the DNA evidence report that proved Honey perished in the lab explosion. And we are all certain Alistair is a man, Jessica, Benson, me, the reports from the groupies at the church, all said Alistair was a man. Not a tiny woman like in that photograph." Kit looked over at me, "I heard his voice, and the strength he had. No woman could do what he did. Throw me around like that." Kit drifted off, turning to pull the security vehicle past the gate.
I looked down at my hands, "At this point, Kit, anything is possible. Especially with Meredith. She was a formidable woman." I looked up as we entered the small garage of the Centre, "A woman who is willing to kill without regard is a woman that should not be underestimated." I grit my teeth, looking up to see Davidek walk towards the car. The look on his face told me that we had definitely underestimated Meredith.
It made me sick to my stomach and dread what Kit and I were about to read.
*********
Officer Bierden locked the door after the two women rushed out. Leaving him to secure the home and put away the lovely dinner he had brought up. He walked slowly to the kitchen, setting the brown paper bag and the cardboard containers in the fridge neatly. Standing up he took a slow breath in, pulling off his sunglasses he looked around the room before unzipping his bulky uniform jacket.
Revealing the four thick blocks of C-4 explosives secured with clear packing tape around his waist. He moved to the living room after throwing the jacket to the floor. He then reached up to the edge of his button down shirt collar, digging the tips of his thumbs into the sides of his neck. Bierden quickly pierced the thick makeup, catching an edge and tearing it slowly. Pulling it up and over his face, he tossed the large chunks of the young man's face to the floor as he walked over to the scattered files left by the doctor and her bodyguard.
When his face was free from the heavy latex mask, he turned to look in the large mirror over the fireplace.
The thick burn scars were always hard to look at, since they always brought back the painful memories so vividly that he could almost feel his skin burning like it did that day. A heavily scarred hand over the neck, feeling every ridge and bump, before it moved to ruffle the short dark blonde hair that was flattened by the heavy mask.
The scarred mouth moved tightly as it spoke into the mirror at the clear reflection of the face that had hid under the face of a young security officer. "Oh Claire, so stupidly trusting of everyone who genuinely smiles your way." The voice speaking was void of the gentle German accent of Bierden, replaced by Alistair's raspy American one.
Alistair stared at himself, the dead blue eyes glossing over the damaged face before flicking away and towards the massive pile of paper. Alistair bent down, shuffling through the papers until he found a handful of photographs. Faces peering back up at him. Clean, undamaged faces of people he once knew. People who failed him.
Alistair angrily grabbed the photographs, standing up as he pulled the tape free from his waist, allowing him to remove the C-4 and stacks the blocks on top of the table in a neat order.
He took in a deep breath, looking around the room as a small smirk curled up at the edges of the scarred mouth, "Time for a little art project I think. Give the good doctor and her lover one lasting impression before I incinerate this lovely little cottage."
He tapped the explosives with two fingers, reaching in the files for more photographs. Moving to dig in the small briefcase he spotted by the couch. He knew it belonged to the redhead bodyguard. Watching her drop a few notes in it before she hurried out with the keys he offered her. Alistair dug deep until he found the images of Kit and Claire from the basement room of the church. Evidence photos reprinted for the redhead to analyze and attempt to figure out who took them and how they were able to get so close.
He chuckled in a way that gave off a sound of an eager giggle, shuffling with a small bounce in his step to the stairs that would take him to the bedroom. Only stopping to grab a thick red marker he spotted in an old mug on the small desk next to the coat rack.
He hopped up the stairs, taking two at a time, pushing open the bedroom door. Taking in a deep, satisfied breath, Alistair placed his hands on his hips, "Time to chase the mouse back to the cat. But let's have some fun first."
He moved to the bedside table, opening the drawer to reveal Kit's P99 sitting in its holster. "Ah, still so fumbly bumbly when in love, such a shame Caitriona." He picked up the gun, setting it on top of the table, "I will have a little fun with that in a minute." His shoulders sagged in an exaggerated sign of defeat, "If I wasn't contracted to kill you a certain way, I would keep you alive to watch your love die in your arms." He sighed dramatically, moving to the wall opposite of the bed. Tilting his head as he examined the bare wall, holding up photographs in a way that appeared he was deciding which one to hang first. He then glanced at the clock, "Well, better get started. Time is wasting." He dragged out a large roll of clear packing tape from the side pocket on his fatigue pants. Swinging it on his finger as he moved around the room.
Alistair dragged a chair to the wall, standing on it as he taped the first picture of Claire to the wall. Writing in bold strokes under her face, "All your fault." Next was a picture of Jessica from the crime scene at Claire's parent’s house. "Her blood is on your hands." with an arrow pointing at Claire's picture.
He giggled to himself, taping the next one up. Benson's booking photograph from the San Diego jail, Kit had asked for. "His blood will stain your hands." Alistair continued, taping one photograph after another, making a large mural centered around Claire's photograph.
Chanting in a sing songy voice as he went, "Run, run, little mousey, run right to my trap. Right into the teeth of the big mean cat." Alistair hummed as he filled the wall with photographs, creating a morbid mural and message. One that would have his exact desired effect and send Claire right to him, thinking she was running from him.
Chapter 30
I held Claire's hand from the moment we exited the security vehicle, not letting go until we met Davey. She was deeply rattled, her jaw clenched tight, keeping her eyes forward. Davey talked while we walked further into the recesses of the Centre’s security hub.
"Rebecca was able to get a hit right away. From your Malibu file actually. It led her to a few other places that she and Ivan are still navigating." Davey looked back at us, "Meredith was a ghost to the CIA, but they kept tabs on her."
He ushered us to a thick black metal door. He laid his hand against a medium sized panel next to the door handle. A thin green band of light scrolled over his palm, the door lock clicking free when it was done. He pushed the heavy door open, revealing a dim room filled with monitors, computers and large mainframe towers lining the walls. Rebecca was sitting in a large leather chair in front of three monitors. Her hands moving quickly as she worked her way through the internet.
She glanced up, smiling at Claire, nodding at Davey and ignoring me. Returning to the monitor, "I am in the deep web for the CIA. The one place where they bury their files after destroying the hard copies. The funny thing about the CIA is that they pride themselves on being untraceable, but at the same time they can't help themselves." Davey motioned us to sit in similar leather chairs placed behind Rebecca.
As we sat, a painfully thin young man walked into the room. Wearing a Captain America t-shirt, khaki cargo pants and a pair of worn Nikes, he had an extremely neat haircut, one that mirrored one a gentleman in the forties would wear. He had to be no older than his mid-twenties, wearing thin black framed glasses, and moved with an awkward purpose. The man moved to sit in the chair next to Rebecca. Setting down a giant red plastic mug with a straw in it. The young man turned in the chair as he sat, grinning at Claire, "Dr. Avondale, pleasure to see you." The slight English accent was hidden under his soft tone. He sat up in his chair a little straighter, conflicted if he should shake her hand or hug her.
Conflicted more as his eyes settled on me, his grin fading to a smaller smile.
Claire smiled back, standing up and walking over to him, her arms up, "You can hug me Ivan, Kit won't bite." Ivan blushed and slid out of his chair, moving to hug Claire like a little brother would. He hugged Claire tightly, before stepping back as he caught my eyes. He came over to me, his hand extended, "Ms. Witmer, we have never been formally introduced. Only electronically. My name is Ivan Bigsby, Director of Mainframe Integrity." Ivan smiled shyly as I heard Rebecca and Davey chuckle at the title.
I shook the kid's hand, welcoming the firm grip from the sleight frame. Ivan rolled his eyes, returning to his seat, "These two constantly make fun of my title, since they only have simpler ones of Director of Security and Best Friend." Ivan nudged Rebecca playfully as he took up his own keyboard.
Davey leaned back as I returned to my seat, "We make fun of him because he was the one who came up with the name of his title, Claire allowed it." He raised his eyebrows at Claire, who was chuckling and shaking her head.
"I allowed it because Ivan has been with me since he was sixteen and has never failed me. Always has my best interest at heart. Hiding himself in the dark corners of this office and others to monitor every little piece of coding that passes through our system. Hacking where I need it and he did teach you, Rebecca, how to utilize the deep web." Claire raised her voice so Rebecca could hear it, it didn't faze the woman as she continued to pound away on the keyboard.
Ivan grinned and nudged Rebecca again, "See, Becky." I smiled as Rebecca tensed up at her shortened name, as if I was the last person in the world she wanted to hear anyone call her by that.
I laughed lightly, leaning closer to Claire to whisper in her ear, "The kid has a massive crush on you."
Claire faced me, her blue green eyes sparkling with a smirk, "Can you blame him." She winked at me and turned back to the two flicking through files and IP addresses at a lighting speed, "Tell me what you have on Meredith Halston."
Rebecca pushed Ivan in the shoulder, "I will let the boy wonder start, he was the one who found the Operation Morocco file buried in the CIA's garbage files. Mixed in with one Agents discarded pornography collection."
Ivan rolled his eyes, blushing as he reached up to point at the monitor directly above us, "If you will please turn your attention here, I will talk as I work." He clicked a few times, throwing a large picture of the woman from the email Davey sent. "As you can see, this is directly from the CIA personnel file on a Meredith Angela Halston. Approximate age of 33 years old at the time this file was created, she could be in her late forties now. Height 6'0” and weight, well my mum told me it was impolite to reveal a ladies weight." Ivan clicked a few more times, filling the screen up with more CIA logos attached to lengthy personnel records. Yearly physicals, firearm qualifications, and performance reviews. "When Davey handed Becky and I the small list of files you wanted, I took the Operation Morocco file. The way the number coding was, I knew it would be a direct case file that only Section Chiefs and the darkest shadow agents would have. The smaller the case number, the less eyes who are allowed to see it."
Ivan pointed at the screen, "What you will see is the personnel file attached to the final Operation Morocco report. I only skimmed the details, only finding interest in the name of Meredith being repeated over and over. I did a quick search on her name and the databases pinged like crazy." He shuffled a few more files to the large monitor, "When I pulled her photograph, Davey recognized her instantly." Ivan swung in his chair to face Claire and I, "Stating that she had at one point been recruiting a teenage Dr. Avondale." He smiled lightly at Claire, "So, I decided to run her against the keywords of recruiting with the CIA and NSA." He motioned to Rebecca, "Becky here told me that the CIA and NSA would cross recruit for each other when they were interested in a particular asset, but didn't want to reveal themselves completely."
I couldn't help smiling still as Rebecca groaned at Ivan continuing to call her Becky. He ignored it, folding his hands in his lap, "This is where things became interesting outside of the operation files. Which I will get to." Ivan turned slightly in his chair looking up at the monitor, "Agent Halston had done a handful of other recruitment outside of chasing our lovely Doctor. The CIA had her going after active military personnel." He punched the keyboard, pulling up the USMC, USN, U.S. Army logos. "Sent out into the warzones, Agent Halston would fade into the ranks and search out men and women the CIA wanted for their own purposes or secret missions within the war zone."
I sat up straighter, my brain starting to put pieces together as I listened to Ivan. I held up my hand, "I don't mean to interrupt you, but I am going to take a guess. Halston was looking for the bravest and best the military had to offer. Ones that would do anything for their country? Pure bred patriots?"
Ivan smiled at me, his hazel eyes lighting up, "Yes, exactly Ms. Witmer."
I looked at Claire, speaking to Ivan, "Donald Benson, Jessica Cornwell, Kenneth Bailes, Megan Casper, and Adam Oakes?" I rattled off the names that had been permanently burned into my brain. All victims of Dr. Bourne's and Alistair Montgomery. I glanced at Davey, sitting next to me. Clenching his jaw and twirling his phone in his palm. I could tell he had already heard most of what was being re-told to Claire and I. His patience was visibly wearing thin as he wanted to do something immediately with whatever new information Rebecca and Ivan had found.
Ivan grinned, nodding, "Yes, all of those names are attached to Agent Halston. All recruited over the last fifteen or so years to work for the CIA in operations in the middle east and throughout the world, whenever a military touch was needed." He clicked on the mouse, filling the screen with the bright happy faces attached to the names we had. "And as you know, these are all of Dr. Bourne's test patients."
Claire shifted in her chair uncomfortably, "Did you pull their full personnel files?" Her voice was quieter, tense.
I laid my hand on her arm, turning to Ivan, "I appreciate you connecting the dots, but I don't know if it is getting us closer to finding Alistair." I kept my tone light, but I was starting to get agitated that we had more information and less true answers to any of the questions.
Ivan nodded tightly, turning his chair and tapping Rebecca's shoulder, "This is where I turn it over to Becky."
Rebecca sighed hard, swinging her chair around to face us. "Thank you, boy wonder." She smoothed out her pale beige shirt, "I took on the Malibu file, which the CIA affectionately labeled as Operation Sunset, since I had originally been the one to decode it and was familiar with Halston through you Claire and my investigation. I dug deeper into her operation reports, going back to her first days with the CIA to the apparent failure that was Operation Morocco. Operation Morocco is her last known mission or association with the CIA, she fell into the shadows after that." Rebecca nodded at Ivan. He filled the monitor once again, "Agent Meredith Halston was a CIA darling when she was hired after graduating from NYU. Going straight to operational Agent status right after her training. She did well until Operation Sunset."
Rebecca stood up from the chair, smoothing out her shirt once more before moving to stand behind Ivan. I watched as her entire body tensed up, eyes forwards and her hands falling to the back of the chair. "While investigating Operation Sunset, I missed a few things I thought were inconsequential at the time." She paused, "I was clouded by emotions and a drive to find who was responsible for your attack, Claire." She dipped her head down, "It was Ivan who picked it up as he read the full file looking for any connection to the file numbers he was working on."
Rebecca paused, her jaw clenching. The woman did not do well with admitting to failure or that she might be wrong, I had personally witnessed it. I scooted forward to the edge of my seat, "Rebecca?" I used a gentle tone I had never used with the woman, hoping to ease her guilt and prod her into moving things along.
Rebecca smiled tightly and nodded, lifting her head back to the monitor, "Ivan was reviewing the equipment requests in the back half of the o
peration file. Something that meant little to me as I was focused on proving Halston was responsible for putting together the operation. I had already proved she was the spearheading agent who suggested the operation to the fringe group who set it into motion." Rebecca turned slowly away from the monitors looking painfully at Claire, "The equipment requests had the usual. Suggested thugs for hire to carry out the attack, weapons, vehicles, surveillance equipment, and whatever the tech units would need back at the CIA to access your mainframe, Claire."
Rebecca held Claire's eyes for a moment, blinking quickly before turning back to the monitor to motion Ivan to zoom in on a specific section of a standard request order. She pointed at the bottom, "Here is what Ivan thought was suspicious."
Claire and I both stood up, moving closer to the monitor to see clearly. Listed at the end of the request for semi-automatic handguns was a list of what looked to be like simple cosmetic supplies. Blush, heavy foundation, lipstick. Then underneath that was a request for a one pound container of liquid latex, movie special effect grade. Colored contacts and three blonde wigs in varying length rounded out the list.
I squinted at the screen, "This is a usual request for a breaking and entering mission. I thought the attack in Malibu was to scare Claire and it had gone wrong, what's with all the movie magic supplies?" My gut twitched as I finished the last word. Makeup, movie magic, masks. What I found in the stairwell after chasing Stansfield flashed in my head. Long forgotten the minute I saw Claire bleeding out on the floor. I shifted in my stance, focusing on Rebecca as she continued.
Redemptio Animae Page 80