He waited for Durning to nod his acknowledgment and put the gum away. Baxter turned his attention to the other agent.
“Now, Webster, I believe you were going to answer my questions,” Baxter said as he collected the dishevelled pages of the report and sat back behind his desk.
He noticed that Webster appeared to be uncomfortable at the obvious tension between himself and Durning as she struggled to find composure before continuing.
“Yes uh, right, well according to Byrd station, Rojerson and Webb had been sent to Vinson Massif to investigate the discovery of some rare metals that had been picked up by Satellite surveillance. They probably believed that they were looking for a meteorite.
As far as Webb is concerned, they were unable to find any trace of him. They suspect that he had fallen down one of the many fissures that had spontaneously appeared when the crater formed.”
Baxter remained silent as he finished reading the report and then sat back in his chair. He noticed the expectant looks on the two agent’s faces.
“Well this is certainly an interesting story, but I fail to see what relevance it has to our current case.
What has the assassination of a Senator got anything go to do with the fate of two unfortunate Geologists and some mysterious Antarctic crater?”
Baxter could not help but notice the smug look on Durning’s face as he handed over the report that he had been holding.
“Well Boss, after you read this you might change your opinion of the DD’s pet project.”
Baxter was well aware of Durning’s material forensics ability and begrudgingly admitted that the man was a specialist in the field.
He retrieved his glasses from top drawer of his desk, glanced over the report and then glared at the smug agent over the top of his glasses.
“Humour me Durning, what does all of this technobabble mean?”
“Well Boss, after the science team couldn’t determine the exact nature of the Ionising radiation, I began to wonder about these specific exotic metallic compounds that had been detected at the precise co-ordinates of the crater.
Using Occam’s razor, that is a principle stating that among competing hypotheses, the one that makes the fewest assumptions should be selected, I put two and two together and came up with ET.”
Baxter could not hide the sceptical look on his face and raised an eyebrow at Durning and Webster.
“Ok, I’ll bite, you mean ET’s as in extra terrestrial, as in little green men etc etc.”
“Well that seems to be the most logical explanation at this point in time.”
“That’s bullshit. Obviously someone has been watching far too much sci-fi shit.
The X-Files was a fictional TV series and you’re definitely not Mulder. Surely there has to be some other explanation.
Besides all of that, you still haven’t given me an answer. What the fuck does all of this have to do with the Baker case?”
Baxter noticed that Durning’s smug smile became wider. He really had the urge to wipe that smile off his face. He took a deep breath and glared at him.
“Well? Have you got something or are you just wasting my time?”
“Since the kid and his Mother disappeared, Webster and I have been looking into other missing people cases in their area, the exact same area that the Senator’s assassination took place and we noticed that there have been quite a lot of people reported missing.
We analysed the numbers and found that there has been a spike in the numbers of missing people in this area compared to the national average. We found that the spike occurred around the time that the data of the exotic metals had been detected in Antarctica.”
Baxter tried hard to hide the look of confusion that must have washed over his face at this latest revelation. Webster must have sensed Baxter’s confusion and continued from Durning.
“Do you see the significance?” she said, whilst pointing to the graph in the report and looking expectantly at Baxter.
Suddenly the penny dropped for Baxter and he could feel the heat swell up within him.
“Do you think the Senator was shot by an alien who then abducted the boy and his Mother plus a whole heap of other people?
Because if you do I will have you both transferred for psych evals.”
Baxter noticed the flustered look on Agent Webster’s face as she looked at Durning as if imploring him to say something. Durning took the bait and smiled as he sat back in his chair.
“You wanted a theory – we gave you one.
If you take a look at the data you can see for yourself that there is quite a significant difference between that area and the national average. If you also take a look at the NORAD report you might find something else that’s quite interesting.”
Baxter flicked the pages of the report until he found the NORAD report. As he read the first paragraph he could feel the blood drain from his face.
“…intermittent detection of exotic metal compounds and slightly raised levels of Ionising radiation within the Washington area.”
The pounding in his head caused little flashes of white lights appear in front of his eyes.
He suddenly felt the urge to attack the bottle in his desk again as the significance of the report dawned on him.
He composed himself and took a deep breath. He removed his glasses and put them back in his drawer. He then sat back in his chair as he rubbed his temples.
“I grant you that this is compelling reading but I’m afraid I still must reserve my judgement.
I think we’re grasping at straws but maybe we should get someone on the ground in that neighbourhood.
Is there anything in the data that suggests there is a link to these missing persons? Do they have anything in common?”
“As far as we can tell, the vast majority of the abduc… er, I mean missing persons, were itinerants, homeless people.” Webster said as she pointed to the graph on the report.
“The homeless were the people that the Senator was trying to help and before he was assassinated, he was in the middle of introducing legislation, ‘The Philanthropy Bill’ to provide cheap or free accommodation to that area.”
“I see – that is interesting. Maybe that’s what got him killed.”
Apart from the whole alien abduction theory, Baxter had to admit to himself that Webster and Durning might be on to something.
Was there a correlation between the missing homeless and Baker’s assassination?
He detested the thought of thanking Durning, but he knew that came with the responsibility of leadership.
“This is good stuff. Thank you both for your research, however I want you two to continue looking into this. See what else you can find out from NORAD. Talk to homeland security as well and find out if they have anything.
In the meantime, I think I might mull around in the Peter’s neighbourhood and talk to a few of the homeless in that area and see if I can’t get to the bottom of the disappearances and find out if anyone has any more information about the Senator.”
“Sure boss,” Durning said with a hint of sarcasm. Baxter watched as they both rose from their chairs and proceeded to leave his office.
He could see that Durning still maintained his smugness as he turned and added.
“Oh, by the way, say hi to Yoda for me.”
Baxter scowled at the comment. “Yeah, yeah very funny, just go and do your job!”
After the two agents had left his office, he slouched back into his chair and reached for the bottom drawer.
He pulled out the bottle and a glass and proceeded to pour himself a drink.
He took a long sip of the whiskey and savoured the warming sensation of the fluid. He closed his eyes and thought about the information that his agents had presented him.
He knew that the link between the Antarctic incident, the missing homeless and the assassination of the Senator was tenuous at best, but he just couldn’t shake the niggling feeling that he was missing something.
He retrieved ano
ther handful of pills from his pocket and swallowed them with another long sip of the whiskey. He started gathering all of the reports that he had collected so far and starting poring over the pages.
He opened the first report, took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He looked at the large stack of papers and then looked at the clock on the wall of his office.
It’s going to be a long night, he thought as he drained the remaining contents of the glass and put it and the bottle back into his desk.
He rubbed his temples again as the growing pain in his head throbbed. He pulled out the pills and downed another fistful as he contemplated his next move.
He knew that even though it flew in the face of protocol, as soon as he had finished at the office he would have to go out into the field incognito and find out for himself the truth behind the disappearances.
He thought of the young boy and his Mother.
The boy witnessed the murder; he could be the key to this whole thing.
He frowned and ignored the growing knot that was forming in the pit of his stomach and the spectacular pain in his head as he started poring through the report.
Seventeen
Stringer cursed under his breath as he slunk through the hallways of George Washington General.
He was too late, the woman and boy were gone. He tried to remain as inconspicuous as possible; he could not afford to draw attention to himself.
He was still filled with rage after the verbal altercation with the nurse on duty and felt livid to think that this Nurse Portman would talk to him with such obvious disdain.
He had to fight hard against his blood lust. He would have taken sheer pleasure in slitting her throat.
He sat on the tattered black faux leather lounge in the lobby of the hospital and had to take stock of his situation.
Where would he go from here?
He had gotten nowhere with the fat snooty nurse, he did not even ascertain where in the hospital the woman had been.
He closed his eyes and focussed on the warm rush of the nicotine neural infuser as it flooded his brain with a combination of nicotine and endorphins. He allowed the drugs to focus his mind.
He knew that he had to eliminate the boy and would probably have to eliminate the boy’s Mother as well – no loose ends.
He thought of other ways of finding out where the Mother and son had disappeared. He wondered whether he could use his neural net receiver to tune in to the Police emergency frequencies and try to determine if there was an all point’s bulletin or Amber alert in progress concerning the woman and the boy.
He was in the process of fine tuning his neural net receiver when he perceived an incoming urgent encoded message, the red flashes prominent in his peripheral vision.
He rose from the lounge and went to find a more private setting before allowing the caller through.
The storage cupboard was cramped and the smell of ammonia was overwhelming. He blocked out his discomfort and focussed on the call. He moaned when he realised the identity of the caller.
“I’m busy, what the fuck do you want?”
“Forget the attitude Stringer. We have been monitoring your performance. As you know we are furious with your departure from protocol to satisfy some egocentric urge for revenge. You were sloppy and unprofessional.”
“Fuck off. What I do in my spare time is my business!”
“Nevertheless, we are still watching you.
Have you taken care of the boy? You are running out of time.”
Stringer could feel the tendrils of rage travel through him as he fought to focus on the neural intruder.
“I’m on it, just fuck off and let me do my job”, and with that he severed the link and slammed his fist into the wall.
He opened the storage cupboard door and headed back to the hospital lobby. He needed to sit and clear his head and work out his next move. The call had unnerved him and he needed to call upon the anesthetising affects of yet another infuser.
As he sat and calmed himself, he could see that a young, well dressed couple had entered the hospital and were standing at the reception counter.
He could tell from their appearance and demeanour that the couple were from some government agency.
Probably feds, he thought as he studied the two.
He realised that this might be a good opportunity to find out what the agents knew. He tapped the side of his head below his right ear and instantly amplified the voices.
He picked up a magazine and pretended not to be paying any attention to the two.
His suspicions about the two were confirmed as he listened in on the conversation. He heard the sensual tones of the female agent’s voice.
“Hello, my name is Special Agent Alicia Cambridge and this is my partner, Special Agent Arnold Thompson. We are from the FBI and we are looking for Ms Sylvan Peters. We have been told that she had been attacked and was admitted here for treatment.”
As Stringer listened he could hear the distinctive sound of paper being shuffled before there was an answer from the duty nurse.
“Look I’m sorry but I have already spoken to the authorities about this matter. I wasn’t on duty when Ms Peters vanished. Now if you’ll excuse me I’m very busy.”
Stringer heard the attitude in the young duty nurse’s voice and smiled to himself. He could imagine the chagrin the nurse’s response would have caused the two feds.
As he listened, he smiled again as he heard the smooth male voice of the other agent intervene. Judging by his tone, Stringer could tell that the Agent was trying the ‘come on’ approach.
“Look Nurse . . err”
“Portman,” the duty nurse responded.
“Yes I can see that from your name badge. Tell me, what is your first name Nurse Portman?”
“It’s Julie.”
“Well Julie, we urgently need to find Ms Peters and we would really appreciate any assistance you can give us. Do you have any contact details we could use? I promise that I won’t tell anyone.”
Stringer could tell from the giggle from the young nurse that the Agent’s approach was working.
“I do have some details. You have to promise me that you won’t tell the Matron. Do you want mine as well? You know, in case you have any more questions you might want me to answer personally.”
“Well Julie, how about you give me both Ms Peters and your details as well. You never know, oh and don’t worry I promise I won’t tell a soul,” the agent said as he winked at the young nurse.
Stringer could hear the Nurse giggling as she clacked away on the PC keyboard as she brought up the relevant details for the two agents.
He cursed himself for not trying the sweet approach. But then he realised that he didn’t exactly have the kind of face that elicited attraction.
He heard the conversation wrap up and the two agents quickly exited the building, obviously heading off to find the woman that he needed to eliminate.
He realised that he needed to follow the agents.
He threw the magazine back on the table as he double tapped his voice amplification module and brought the sensitivity back to normal levels and then quickly exited the hospital.
Once outside, he watched as the two agents jumped into a typically black Government Issue van and sped off.
He ran to his Camaro and began his pursuit. He knew that he had to stay a long way behind them, he couldn’t risk them knowing that he was following them. He frowned as he drove. The agents had just added a further complication.
Will he have two more bodies on his hands?
As the van pulled into Washington’s derelict district, Stringer could not shake an odd feeling of déjà vu. He had driven these streets before. He recognised the filthy run down edifices.
He slowed when he noticed the van pull up outside a building earmarked for demolition. The same building that he had used on his last assignment. That concreted his belief that the boy had seen him.
He pulled over and decided to use surveillance
instead of getting in too close. He tapped his voice amplification module again as he watched the agents disembark their vehicle. He smiled when he heard the female agent ask the other agent a question that offered up critical intel.
“Okay this is the Paradise Apartments, what apartment is she in?”
“She’s in apartment 401.”
Stringer watched as the agents entered the building as he placed another infuser on his tongue. He let the drugs wash over him and exhaled deeply as he subconsciously rubbed the TDI on the back of his neck. He realised that his time was running out.
The deadline put added urgency into tying up the loose ends. He knew that he had to get the boy and his Mother before the Feds did.
He carefully and quickly exited the car. He knew that he had to stay close to the agents without being spotted.
As he entered the building he pulled his gun out of the waistband of his jeans. He felt the cold metal in his hands and smiled as he started climbing the stairs stealthily in pursuit of the agents.
He could hear them talking, they were at least three flights ahead of him. He increased his speed a little but made sure to keep in the shadows and tread as lightly as possible.
The plan was formulating in his mind as he moved. He would wait until the agents entered the apartment of the boy and his Mother and then hide out of sight in the corridor and as soon as the agents entered the corridor with the boy and his Mother he would take out the two agents, kill the boy and then he would have plenty of time to play with the Mother before he slit her throat.
Perfect!
As he reached the top landing of the stairwell he paused behind the door and listened. He could hear the agents talking as they were knocking on the door of the apartment.
“Ms Peters, open up, this is the FBI. We need to talk to you.”
Stringer listened as the knocking grew more persistent and then suddenly stopped. He could tell that there was no reply to the agents and that the woman and child were obviously not there. He could hear the approaching footsteps of the two agents.
Change of plan, he thought as he silently made his way back down the stairwell and rushed back to his car.
The Immortal Harvest Page 12