by T. M. Catron
I heard Toral’s door open and her bare feet in the hallway, going to the bathroom. When she came out, I called to her.
“Why are you still up?” she asked. She saw my laptop, then shook her head. “Never mind. You know, as little sleep as you get, you never look tired in the mornings.”
“Look at this.”
She sat next to me on the couch. I showed her my keyboard and explained what I thought the puzzle box was for.
“When did you hack into EW’s computer?”
I grinned. “The day I was hired.”
“And you didn’t tell me.”
“Because I didn’t find anything worth talking about.”
“We’ll never be able to figure it out,” she said. Her shoulders drooped slightly. I thought about putting my arm around her. About feeling her back through her thin t-shirt.
Down, Morse.
To give myself something more appropriate to do, I made a show of closing the laptop and setting it on the coffee table. “We will. Either way, now that I suspect something else hidden on his network, I can start looking there. Maybe we don’t need the key.”
She looked up at me with a twinkle of mischief in her eyes. “You’re that good, huh?”
I bumped her shoulder with my own. “You should offer me a job. After we figure this out and save the day, of course.”
“You’re not exactly the type, Morse.”
“How do you know?”
The next morning, I was out of the apartment and sitting in my office upstairs before anyone else came in.
As a rule, humans don’t believe in aliens. Not really. They talk about them, write stories about them, and watch exciting movies about them. But Average Joe truly believes he is alone in the universe and acts like he is alone on the planet.
A high-ranking official would have trouble persuading his government to take him seriously without proof. But EW had it, and I was willing to bet his evidence was convincing. If even one of the four decided the evidence should be shared, word about the invasion could get out.
I dug through EW’s contacts, trying to recognize any names. Some I did recognize, some high profile, some less so. Many of them he hadn’t been in touch with for a year or two. Not the sort of person to be working with while preparing for an alien invasion. Without more help, I would have to dig into each name’s past and present to find out if they knew about the invasion. And how.
Frustrated, I got up to get a cup of coffee from the break room. As I was pouring, Micheline entered. She nodded my way, then ignored me as she did most days.
I stood against the counter and took a sip. “Micheline.”
“Yes?” She leaned around me for the coffee.
“Am I really that hard to get along with?”
She poured her coffee and smiled. “Only sometimes. Party go well?”
“No problems. The boss left early. Hear anything else?”
“No. I went to bed. Got up this morning, came here.”
“What went on between you and Finn, anyway?” I asked conversationally. I really wanted to know if Finn had been in the loop about EW’s post-apocalyptic plans.
“And you wonder why I don’t like you.”
“Just asking.”
She sipped her coffee but didn’t make any move to leave. “Because you’re curious?”
I nodded.
“Finn was a fling. I regretted it later because he wouldn’t leave me alone. Even got me to attend one of his parties, hoping I’d do something stupid so he could blackmail me.”
“Why did you go to the party?”
“Why does anyone the first time? Curiosity. Why’d you ask about Finn?” She took another sip and put her coffee on the counter. “Look, Morse, you don’t seem to be the type that cares about what other people think. So, I know you’re not trying to get me to tell you I think you’re better than Finn or easier to work for. What is it?”
“Nothing. You do a good job. I’m not Finn, but I expect the same loyalty as he did. More so, really.”
She frowned. “You think I’m disloyal?”
You reported about me to Armelle. “You don’t seem engaged.”
Her nostrils flared. “Even though I do twice as much work around here as anyone else, except maybe Marcia? What else would you call engaged.”
“Don’t get angry. It’s just advice you need to hear.”
An internal struggle registered all over her face. On the one hand, she wanted to tell me exactly what she was thinking and how angry I’d made her. On the other, she didn’t want to get fired. So, she left the break room in a haughty silence, leaving her coffee on the table.
I picked it up and carried it with my own, dropping it off at her desk on the way into my office. She nodded curtly but didn’t look up.
The day went by quickly. I stayed until midnight, looking for a way into EW’s computer in between the other duties that provided me cover. Employees came and went. The cleaning service arrived and left. When I finally allowed myself to go back to my apartment, I hadn’t made any progress.
Total and Charan were already asleep, so I grabbed a sandwich and went to my room, eating it on the bed and thinking that I would soon have to report in to my masters. And I had nothing but bad news. Maybe they would root out the leak on their own. Other hybrids could work on this, as well. I turned on the TV on the dresser, flipped through a couple of channels, then turned it off again. That wasn’t going to help me think.
I lay down and fell asleep.
The next morning, I woke later than usual, still in my clothes. I’d just taken off my shirt to change when Toral knocked on the door.
“Morse? You okay?”
“Give me a minute.” The door was locked, but I hurried to pull my shirt back on to cover my adarre. Then I opened the door. “Just overslept,” I said.
She was dressed for the day, a glass of juice in her hand. “It’s not like you to sleep this late. I thought maybe you hadn’t come in at all.”
“Nope. Just working late.”
“Find anything?”
“Not yet. Got to run, though. Others will already be there.”
Toral nodded and backed out of the doorway. I closed the door and hurried to shower and dress. Micheline was already at her desk when I arrived. She followed me into my office and closed the door as I sat down.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said,” she began.
“Yes?”
“About making myself look loyal.”
“Oh. That. And what do you think?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but Finn tried the same tactic after I broke things off between us. I threatened to quit, he threatened to ruin me. There was no love lost when he died. But Morse, I consider myself a loyal person. And I want to stay here.”
“Good. I want you to stay. Anything else?”
“No.”
“Bring me a cup of coffee, will you?”
Another day, more frustration. Eight cups of coffee. At 6:00 pm, I decided to report in to Condar. At 7:00 pm, I changed my mind. I wasn’t ready for that level of interrogation. At 8:00 pm, Toral called my phone.
“Anything?”
“No.”
“Charan is sending something up to you. He found it on EW’s server.”
I checked my email and opened the attachments. Pictures. About thirty. All the same thing: a warehouse at night. No lights except for a couple of floodlights outside the front door. The timestamp said 21:53 and was dated a year ago. Each subsequent timestamp was a minute after the first. 21:54, 21:55. Various angles suggested the photographer hadn’t been willing or able to get close.
At 22:23 a light flashed in a room on the bottom level. At 22:24 a man ran out of the front door, in the direction of the camera. It was the last picture. Why did EW think these pictures were important? And who were the photographer and the man in the building?
I called Toral.
“Maybe the photographer is the man inside,” I said. “He put th
e camera on a tripod when he was ready to go in, and set it.”
“I thought of that,” she said. “But the last picture isn’t taken from the exact same spot. Look at the bottom left corner, and you’ll see the difference.”
She waited while I put the last two pictures side by side on my screen. “You’re right. Either the man inside knows the photographer, or the man inside spotted the photographer and confronted him.”
“That’s what I was thinking. I checked. The digital files tag the location—the photographer must have been using a smartphone—or a camera with GPS. I looked up satellite imagery. The warehouse is outside of Paris. But it burned down. Flipping back through previous images, it happened about the same time the pictures were taken.”
“Either they burned down the warehouse together, or the man inside burned it to destroy evidence.”
“What evidence?”
“Don’t know.”
“What does this have to do with EW sending puzzle boxes to his buddies?”
“Maybe nothing. What does Charan say?”
“I don’t know. He told me we’d have to look at it. He’s been called out on a courier errand.”
“Who called him?”
“He didn’t say.”
“Send me those coordinates,” I said before we hung up.
I secured my laptop in a safe in my office, then left. My phone dinged with Toral’s message. I may not find anything there, but it was worth a look around. And when I finished, I had to report to my movements to the Condarri. This situation was getting bigger than just me. I had to handle it correctly.
When I reached the bottom floor, Toral stood there waiting. Wearing the blue sari. My mind went from reports and duty to the memory of her floating beside me in the sea.
“Can’t let you have all the fun without me,” she said.
I glanced at a security guard on duty. The lobby was almost empty. “You armed?” I asked.
She nodded.
“Like my cover?” she asked as we walked to the parking garage.
“Yes. Sort of a distraction, though.”
“Armelle wondered why I didn’t wear it to the party.”
“She spoke to you?” I opened the passenger door of a company car for Toral.
“Only to ask about you. I think she’s jealous.”
She should be, I thought.
We found the vacant lot without any trouble. Evidence of the fire that had destroyed it had been cleaned away long ago. Green grass and weeds grew up through the cracks in the concrete slab.
I walked around the perimeter while Toral took pictures.
“Anything?” she called when I was halfway around.
I kicked a rock with my foot. It rolled away into the underbrush a few feet away. Maybe the place had nothing to do with the alien invasion or the hybrids. Maybe it was a drug deal gone wrong. Or a money-laundering operation discovered by one of EW’s rivals.
I didn’t think so, though. Everything in me screamed that our primary mission was in jeopardy. Condar would recall the hybrids, and I shuddered to think what would happen if they did.
My eyes followed the path the rock had taken. I walked over the tangled trees and peered in. The wooded area stretched a few hundred meters in every direction. Void of anything but ivies, trees, and fallen leaves in a vast, wet carpet.
I completed my walk around, stopping where Toral was looking at a concrete step that had been at the front door.
“Find something?” I asked.
She sighed and looked up at the trees. “No.”
The day was fading. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. The smells of damp earth, trees, wet concrete, and mold greeted me. Birds chirped around us, a woodpecker tapped a beat against a tree. Nothing out of the ordinary.
What bothered me about this place? The feeling I was missing something important nagged at me, tugging at the back of my mind. I knew it was in plain sight but couldn’t quite put words to it.
“It’s not like we thought we’d find something,” Toral said.
“Right.”
“It burned a year ago.”
“Mmhm.”
“Still wouldn’t hurt to pull the local police report.” She began a walk around the perimeter herself. I waited, lost in thought.
My phone vibrated with a message. I dug it out of my pocket to glance at it.
It was from EW.
Office. Now.
I slid the phone into my pocket. “Want some dinner?” I asked Toral when she got back.
“No, I’m meeting Charan. Can you drop me off?”
24
Kill
We didn’t say much on the way to the restaurant where Toral was meeting Charan. More than ever, I needed to report to Condar. But EW first.
When Toral got out of the car, she said, “We’ll figure it out.”
“I know.”
She shut the door, and I sped off toward the Tower where EW waited for me. When I stepped off the elevator, he was already in my glass office, behind the desk with three people in front of him—Micheline, Robert… and Charan.
I strode forward, racking my brain for reasons for Charan being here instead of at the restaurant with Toral. Before I reached them, Robert grabbed Charan and forced him to his knees. I sped up to reach the open door.
“Finally,” Emerson-Wright said.
I glanced at Charan, then Micheline. Her face was as white as her blouse. “What’s going on?” I asked, keeping my own expression blank.
“Found us a mole,” Robert said. He kicked Charan’s leg. Charan didn’t say anything.
“This one?” I nodded to Charan. “What’d he do?”
“It’s not what he did, it’s who he is,” the boss said. “CIA.”
“What?”
“Thought you said these kinds of slip-ups weren’t going to happen on your watch?”
“They don’t. He was a leftover from Finn’s days. Owed us some money. Micheline let him into the building.” I stared at her.
Micheline’s pupils dilated, but she otherwise remained still. If bringing her into this fiasco was going to help my case, I’d absolutely throw her under the bus.
“Micheline has already reported her part in this embarrassment.”
So, she had decided to prove her loyalty once and for all. With a pang of regret, I realized I must have pushed her to it.
“How did you know Charan was CIA?” I asked her.
“He approached me to help him.”
EW said, “Before I deal with you, Morse, I need this mess cleaned up.”
I nodded. “Where?”
“Here. Where else?”
“Someplace where cleanup will easier.”
“Cold feet? Need him for something?”
“Don’t you want to know what intel he’s passed on?”
Emerson-Wright smiled. “No.”
Charan’s eyes grew wide. With the air of someone who was extremely irritated to have to deal with this issue, I unholstered the .25 at my ankle and pointed it at the back of Charan’s head. He tried to look back at me. Robert grasped him tighter.
“No, wait!” Charan said. “Morse!”
“Begging won’t get you anywhere,” I said. At least, it never had with me before. But tonight, all I could think about was his connection to Toral. The plea cut me deeply. I concentrated on keeping my hand from shaking with disgust.
If you don’t do this, you’ll ruin the mission for good. Condar will kill you.
At the moment, he’s on my side.
He’s just a human. Soon they’ll all be dead.
With this fresh on my mind, I looked at EW to give the order. He nodded.
I pulled the trigger.
With a loud crack, the bullet entered Charan’s head at the base, bounced around inside his skull. Very little blood. Robert let his body crumple to the floor. Micheline squeaked in fright, and her hands shook as they covered her mouth.
The little traitor.
I walked over a
nd grabbed her arm, throwing her to the floor at my feet. “What are you doing?” she screamed. “Morse!”
I dragged her over to Charan’s body and dumped her on top of it. She scrambled to get away from it. I stepped on her back, planting her face into the carpet. Then I glared at EW. “I don’t tolerate traitors. She should have come to me as soon as she found out.”
Micheline wailed beneath me, crying. I dug my heel deeper into her back.
“Oh, shut her up!” Emerson-Wright said.
I yanked off my tie and shoved it in Micheline’s mouth, muffling her renewed screams.
“What do you suggest, Morse?” he asked.
I held my gun at the base of her skull, just as with Charan. She whimpered, tears spilling down her face and wetting the carpet. Her body shook with sobs.
“Absolute loyalty,” EW said, his voice barely above a whisper. He was almost purring. “I try to instill it in my employees. Preach it, even. And it always circles back around to this—does their loyalty outweigh their treason?”
“No amount of loyalty negates a treason, Mr. Emerson.”
He nodded. “True, but her disloyalty was to you, not me. And I can’t fault her for that. Let her up.”
I removed my foot. Micheline huddled on the floor sobbing, not daring to remove the tie from her mouth. I turned away from her, disgusted.
EW moved from behind the desk, stepping over the body. Blood trailed from Charan’s neck to the floor. “Get this mess cleaned up,” he said. “Morse, I need you first thing. Oh, and don’t forget to take care of that woman you’ve been keeping in your apartment. She’s supposed to be this guy’s sister, right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“So, you’ve had CIA in your apartment all along. In your bed, even.” He scoffed. “Anything down there they could get?”
“No, sir. I work from up here.”
“Well, take care of her too.” He muttered something that sounded like imbecile on his way out the door.
Emerson-Wright left. Nearly shaking with rage, I gave instructions to Robert to get rid of the body, then grabbed Micheline’s arms and hauled her to her feet. She whimpered again, shrinking back from me as I half-dragged her over Charan’s body and out of the small office. I dropped her on her own desk.