by Kris Calvert
Lilah looked at her watch. “Not yet. He’s in a meeting and on DND.”
“DND?” Win asked.
“Do not disturb,” I said translating for him. Lilah nodded in agreement.
“His phone won’t work when he turns it off like that,” Lilah explained to Win.
“Not even for you?” I wondered if King had a fail-safe built into his off-the grid communications plan with his Girl Friday.
“No.”
I didn’t believe her so I kept asking questions. “How long have you been employed by Dr. Giles?”
“A little over a six months.”
“And what do you do for him?” I asked.
“Whatever he wants me to.”
“And that doesn’t include sex?” I wanted to shake her up a bit and get to the bottom of what Lilah Preston’s real job was.
“No.”
I stopped and stared at her while Win answered his phone. I could hear him making arrangements for the body to be transported to the morgue and for the cleanup crew to get into Joy’s condo. I didn’t know how the boys upstairs were going to make it all go away again, but I had a feeling it was going to happen.
“Look, Agent Weatherford, don’t get me wrong, I think Dr. Giles is a handsome guy just like you, but he’s not my type.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I said he’s not my type.”
I was starting to feel frustrated and Lilah was an easy target. “And what type might that be?”
“A man,” she said, her eyes clear and bright with her explanation. “I’m gay, Agent Weatherford.”
Win walked into the conversation. “There’s a crew on its way to clean up and gather evidence. Miss Preston, I’m going to need you to come with us.”
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“Somewhere secure where we can either call Washington, D.C. and have your boss tracked down, or you can break down and call him for us.”
“Rose Hill,” Lilah said. “We should go to Rose Hill.”
I looked to Win. I knew what he was thinking, but if King was associated with the murders in any way, I’d take him down without even thinking.
“I think that’s a fine idea,” Win agreed.
I rolled my eyes at the thought of being back at King’s home, especially without King. It felt too close to my heart—as if I could ever separate my feeling and caring life from the hard-hitting unfeeling life of being an agent.
“You can follow me,” Lilah said. “I know all the back roads to get us there faster.”
I looked to Win and gave him a smile and then turned to Lilah. “I’ll ride with Ms. Preston. If that’s okay.”
“Sure,” she said, walking ahead of us as the forensics team made it to the scene.
“You like King, don’t you?”
I didn’t know how to respond to her question. I realized as King’s assistant she could’ve very well arranged the balloon ride. She could’ve known I was there based on the kitchen being a mess. Perhaps King called her and told her he’d been with me. A myriad of things could’ve transpired and so I thought of how to answer her question correctly and deflected.
“Why do you say that?”
She shrugged her shoulders without looking at me as she navigated the black SUV down the winding back roads of Alabama without a care.
Out of nowhere a deer darted in front of the car, causing Lilah to swerve, stop and readjust our position on the road.
“Holy—” I said grabbing for the hand bar above the passenger window.
She corrected the car and the deer that’d stopped in the middle of the road went on its merry way. “That was impressive Lilah. Where’d you learn to drive like that?”
“I grew up in the country. You couldn’t drive to my house without wildlife crossing the road and causing a ruckus.”
I nodded. “Well, good work back there.”
“Thanks,” she said. “But you didn’t answer my question.”
“Yeah, what was that?”
“Do you like Dr. Giles?”
“I think he’s a very smart man.”
“He’s easy on the eyes too.”
“I thought you didn’t care about that.”
“I’m gay, Agent Weatherford. I’m not blind.”
I nodded again. There was nothing to be said.
Stopping at the end of the lane, we waited for the gates of Rose Hill to swing wide and drive inside. The closer we got to the house, the more I relived my night with King.
Lilah pulled to the side and opened the garage door with the push of a button. I could see where the Range Rover was still gone from the other morning and I was thankful I’d decided to hitch a ride with King instead of taking one of his cars.
Lilah hopped out of the car. “Looks like Georgia is here.”
“Georgia?” I asked as if I didn’t know who she was.
Win pulled in behind us and turned off the dusty black sedan. Our car paled in comparison to the perfectly washed and waxed cars in King’s garage. Lilah’s looked as if it received the same tender loving care as the rest of King’s possessions.
Walking through the mudroom, I watched as Win looked around unimpressed. I followed Lilah into the kitchen where Georgia stood at the counter, stirring something that smelled wonderful.
“Georgia,” Lilah began. “This is Agent Reagan Weatherford and Agent Win Holloway. They’re here with me while we try to track down King.”
Win shook Georgia’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you ma’am.”
I followed suit, but couldn’t look her in the eye for very long. “Thank you for allowing us to barge in like this,” I said.
“No problem. Can I get you folks something to drink? I’d offer you some pound cake, but it’s not out of the oven yet.”
Georgia spoke to the whole of us, but only looked at me, and I felt her knowing eyes boring through my flimsy act.
“It already smells delicious,” Win replied, quick to pick up on Georgia’s southern accent and fall easily into his familiar Kentucky drawl. “I might try to drag out my stay here Miss Georgia, just so I can sample your cake.”
“You’re more than welcome to do just that. Make yourself at home.”
“Why don’t we go up to Dr. Giles’ study? You can set up your computers. Maybe he’ll check in soon.”
I gave Georgia a nod and she smiled at me, making me feel comfortably anxious—like a trained killer who lures in victims with charm just before slitting their throat.
We climbed the stairs and I thought of King’s hand in mine as he led me back to his study and found myself smiling until Win elbowed me in the ribs.
“Really?” he said.
I quickly recovered and focused on the matter at hand. I needed to speak with King. I had no idea how it would all unfold. I’d not heard from him since I’d sent him the call me text. If he called Lilah first, I would know work was the top priority for him. And if he called me? Well, I’d have some explaining to do, but I had a feeling I’d be explaining with a smile on my face.
19
KING
I rode the motorcycle through the streets, dodging traffic and busses in the dark, finally turning onto a service road to enter the factory through the employee entrance. The lab was located next to a bank of schools and playgrounds. It was standard operating procedure—terrorists choosing optimal locations set in residential and school areas so if discovered, the US military would not be able to bomb without casualties. Inside the building, I could control the damage much easier.
In my backpack were my employee badge and all the Semtex and C-4 I’d need. It was only twenty pounds, but I had a forty-five minute window to strategically set the charges in the most critical structural locations within the building. I’d already shaped most of the charges to focus the pressure wave in a manner most likely to rupture the structure, taking down the entire lab, but I needed to wait to detonate when the other two organizers were present. If I didn’t get them all, the chance of anot
her lab popping up was one hundred percent.
I parked my motorcycle at the edge of the rusty chain link fence that surrounded the plant and walked the rest of the way into the facility. The employee entrance was dimly lit and I didn’t worry about being seen. After I took out the building, there would be no surveillance footage to link me to the explosion either. Well, that and no one would ever think of a small town doctor as a top secret operative for the government.
Still, my hat was pulled low and my hoodie was pulled high. I walked with my hands in my pockets, looking to my feet the entire way to the door.
Sliding my keycard, the door buzzed and I was in immediately. I had one more stop to make in the men’s locker room to don some factory-approved clothing, which I’d wear over my own clothes in order to get the hell out as soon as I was finished.
The corridors were dark, and I worked my way through the building, the layout and floor plan memorized in my head.
Working quickly, I was surprised to find there wasn’t anyone in the building to speak of. I knew the majority of the offices would be locked, but I was on my way to the basement. I had an Indian inspection certificate in my pocket if someone should happen to stop me. No stone was left unturned and each mission was planned with flawless precision. This one was no different.
After changing into the blue coveralls worn by everyone in the building, I slung my backpack over my shoulder and descended into the basement. Starting in the northeast corner, my plan was to work my way through the foundation blocks, setting charges as I went. The remote detonator was still attached to the motorcycle outside, locked in a box in a saddlebag over the wheel. I carried the battery needed to detonate the charges after I was clear of the building in my pocket.
I wiped the sweat from my brow at every stop, making sure I’d connected each section—any mistakes and the whole plan would be a bust. I needed to destroy the entire building and all the labs completely to squelch any uncertainty as to whether they could recover. Drug makers across the globe would need to go to secondary suppliers—lives would be saved, all without panicking hundreds of millions of people.
Working my way through the foundation, I could follow any activity in the building through the shoddy ductwork. I listened, knowing the two other leaders of the terrorist cell were in the building tonight making plans. And then I heard something I wasn’t prepared for—not supposed to hear—a familiar voice.
I crouched to the floor, working my way silently toward it. The closer I got, the more recognizable it became.
“When do the shipments release?”
“In three days’ time.”
Shock rocketed through my body and mind and I leaned in to see through the return air grate at their feet. I watched as my friend and colleague Dr. Red Laskin made plans with the two terrorists I’d been sent to covertly take out.
I watched him pull his phone from his pocket and waited.
“Eto Rodya,” Red explained. “Plan gotov. Ingrediyenty perevozki v techeniye trekh dney. YA idu k Ussuriyske. Podozhdi menya.”
My next target was in Russia—Ussuriysk to be exact. I too was to be there in three days’ time. My Russian wasn’t fluent, but I knew enough to understand that my research partner at BioGen was planning terrorist acts.
I didn’t have time to think, I only had time to act. I hurried through the last six charges, double-checking my work one by one before crawling from the basement and into the electrical room.
Rushing to pull the coveralls from my body, I stumbled out the door and into a janitor pushing a trashcan filled to the brim with paper down the back hallway by the employee entrance. It was obvious he’d been in the building awhile. Intel was incorrect when they reported there would be no staff on the premises. I didn’t want to take an innocent life.
“You should go. I was called in because of a gas leak. You should leave now. There are some toxic fumes in the building. Please,” I begged him. “Leave.”
Out the door, I dropped the coveralls into a trashcan just outside the employee entrance and walked calmly to my motorcycle on the fence a hundred yards from the factory.
In my head I knew there always was a chance of collateral damage, it went with the territory. I didn’t want it to happen on my watch.
Without rushing, I strolled into the evening air taking a deep breath and didn’t look back. There was nothing to look back on. In a few moments all that had ever stood in the factory would be decimated, including a man I thought was my friend.
Kick starting the motorcycle, I revved the engine and pulled the detonator from the side bag. Taking the battery from my front pocket, I snapped it in place. There was only one thing left to do.
Pulling away from the factory, I gave it a fleeting glance. I was relieved when I saw a man walking the long field behind the factory as I had. The janitor heeded my warning and had vacated.
His image merely a shadow, I waited until he was far enough away before pulling out onto the main road, pressing the detonator as I sped away.
The explosion rocked the street and I nearly fell from the motorcycle and into a ditch. Managing to pull it together at the last second, I righted the two wheels and gave it even more gas. I was twelve miles from the airport and the plane would be waiting. I needed to get out of India and I needed to get out now.
Five minutes later, fire engines and rescue squads barreled down the road in the other direction. There was nothing left for them to do now but contain the fire. This mission was complete.
I pulled onto the street adjacent to the airfield, dropping the motorcycle and allowing it to run itself into a nearby lake. Only then did I pick up my pace and run to the tarmac. I could see my plane engine was running, and just like a good plan should come together, when I stepped onto the Gulfstream and saw the faces of the crew, I knew we were ready for takeoff.
I nodded to the captain. “Let’s get out of here.”
Three hours into the fourteen-hour flight back to the states, I’d showered, checked in with Nyx to say the mission was complete and had a bourbon in my hand.
There were messages that needed to be tended to, and the first one was Reagan.
She’d texted me hours ago asking me to call her. I knew she wanted to speak with me about Joy. And now that I’d come into contact with Red at ZoAlta before I bombed the holy living shit out of it, I knew it was Red behind the death of Tina, and now Joy. The panties in the mouth were a lame attempt at framing me. The only thing I worried about now was whether Reagan had been targeted as well.
I needed to get back to the states and sort some things out. I only hoped it wasn’t a disaster when I arrived. I needed to be out again and on my way to Russia in two days.
KING: Sorry to be so tardy in responding to you Reagan. I’ve missed seeing your face and hearing your voice. I will be home by eight. Will you join me at Rose Hill for dinner and some alone time?
I sat my phone on the table in front of me and closed my eyes for a brief moment hoping I’d hear from her so I could head to the bedroom at the back of the plane and get a little shuteye.
REAGAN: How did you know I was in Shadeland? We were supposed to meet up in the city.
KING: I’m aware of everything that’s happening. Talk tonight. I will meet you at 8 at Rose Hill. Watch your back. Trust no one.
I turned off my phone and stood to stretch my tired body. Walking back to the bedroom I should’ve been thinking of my so-called partner, Red, who was now deceased. I should’ve been thinking of Tina and Joy, who were also dead. The body count continued to rise, and yet all that was on my mind was Reagan Weatherford.
If she could live through this mess with me, who was to say if she couldn’t stand being in a relationship with someone like me?
For once in my life I wanted something—someone for the totality of her as a person. I wasn’t merely interested in the sex, although her situation was intriguing to me, and I couldn’t think of anything sexier than working Reagan through her fears and into bed. She would be
mine—all mine—and no one else’s. What’s more, I was ready to reciprocate—to give myself over to her completely. Relinquishing control wasn’t my forte, but if I was going in—I was going all the way. If Reagan was ready for love, I wanted to be the one to shower her in it. If she was the girl for me, the one in a million, then I wouldn’t let her go. No matter what.
I laid my body across the bed and thought of her sweet lips, wondering if there was a place in the world for people like me, for people like her. We were a mismatch made in heaven if ever there was one, and I couldn’t wait to hold her in my arms again.
20
REAGAN
As we sat in King’s study, I did my best not to look at the bookcase I knew to be the gateway into his bedroom. I wondered if the sheets were still a mess—the way we left them after our night of blissful slumber in the same bed—him perfect and naked and me in his pajamas. I thought of his warm skin and intoxicating smell.
Why hadn’t he wanted to do more with me? Not that I was ready to have sex—especially after one date with the man. But still, I wanted him to ask, to propose it so I could turn him down. Instead it was the other way around.
Now that I was finished with my homework assignment, I knew he wanted to school me, but at the same time, he was a quintessential gentleman. I tried to focus on the latter idea instead of the former.
Still, I couldn’t stop thinking about him as Lilah and Win chattered on about King’s location and the quest to contact him. Out of the loop, I felt my phone buzz in my coat pocket.
It was King and I found it difficult to mask my excitement. He’d contacted me first. I turned my back on the group as I read the message and texted him back telling him we needed to talk.
“Everything okay?” Win asked, raising a suspicious eyebrow in my direction. We’d only been together a few days and already the man could read my face. I needed to be better about hiding my emotions in the future.
“Yes. It’s nothing.” I said waving him off and looking back to the phone for King’s response.