by Dom Testa
If they were successful with their poison plan in Arizona, it could embolden them to expand their retaliation against grievances worldwide. And, even more troubling, it could open the door for copycat groups to do the same.
I was desperate to know much more about the Arcetri.
The third column was light on detail. We were working under a lot of assumptions and few hard facts. By now Quanta would’ve been in touch with Congresswoman Thresh to share our concerns. I didn’t expect a career politician to cancel an event organized to make her fat stacks of campaign cash.
I sat back at my desk and let out a long, slow breath. Parks would be counting on that political greed. He was probably rubbing his hands together in glee.
Just as I was about to send a text to Poole, another came in. I stared at the screen in disbelief.
It was from the SL phone I’d given to Jonas. The one he’d supposedly ditched in order to get his own. The one that should’ve been discarded.
My finger hovered over the notification for a moment before opening it.
It said: I assume you’re our friend from the river in San Antonio. We should probably talk before I release hell.
It was simply signed: SP.
Chapter Twenty-Four
I don’t have a psychic bone in my body — regardless of which body I inhabit. But I felt pretty full of myself after predicting such a message from Parks or Pradesh when I’d spoken over coffee with Kowalczyk.
The reply to Steffan’s simple request would have to be well thought out. I’d had only one opportunity to speak with this knave, and I couldn’t let him wriggle off the hook now. There were multiple ways he might be spooked; the key would be to use a bit of mystique to hold his attention.
First things first. I messaged Poole, alerting her to the contact. Then I tied in Q2 so both Poole and Quanta could observe my thread with Parks without his knowledge, like a blind cc in an email.
Then I composed the reply.
If you’ll quit trying to kill me I’d love to chat. When and where?
It took almost an hour for him to respond, and I’d started to think he’d merely wanted to see if there would be a response.
Then came this text from a different number: I’ll call you at 12:15.
I didn’t bother to confirm. Saying nothing was better than saying the wrong thing.
Quanta rang through a few minutes later.
“We accessed the tracking device in the SL phone,” she said. “It hasn’t moved since the original text. It’s about 40 miles north of Phoenix, off Interstate 17.”
“He ditched it as soon as he got my number and confirmed who I was. He’s not stupid. He knew we’d track it once he used it. So now he can just call me with a series of burner phones.”
I paused, then added, “Of course, I could send Agent Kowalczyk to pick up the SL, if you’d like. She’s very dependable.”
“Oh,” she said. “I recognize that. It’s your hurt voice.”
“I understand why you sent for her. I just think a heads-up would’ve been nice.”
“That would’ve just given you more time to pout. What task did you give her?”
“Checking out Oosterhaus and Franks. Have you spoken with Thresh yet about cancelling her trip?”
“Her people say absolutely not. In their words, ‘we don’t cower from terrorists.’”
I grunted. “It’s okay to die a gruesome, agonizing death, but cowering is strictly forbidden.”
“Apparently. At least they’re doubling her normal security force.”
“Which Parks will simply treat as a challenge. I guarantee you if this was just a standard visit to her district she’d cancel. The fact that it’s a major fundraiser makes that out of the question.” I paused, then asked: “What about the stuff I sent you? The valve and the app data?”
“Exactly what you predicted,” she said. “Our friends on the 2nd floor confirmed that Parks will use the app on his phone to dial up this particular valve. He can not only open and close it, he can set a timer with it.”
“So he could set that today and then just wait for the poison to be in place.”
“Potentially,” Quanta said. “Listen, I know you wanted Parks to somehow tip his hand about the date and the location. But things are spiraling out of control. It’s time to grab him and bring him in. We’ll have to take our chances that we can stop everything with him in custody.”
“All right. I’ll work on that. But he and Pradesh have impressed me with their ghost act. If anything he’ll get even more elusive since I keep killing his goon squad. Which makes me wonder if he’s got a spare in place yet.”
Quanta said, “He has the money to equip himself with people and supplies. I’m sure there will be someone else assigned specifically to handle you.”
Which was a polite way of saying kill you.
“Assuming he’s punctual, I have an hour until he calls,” I said. “We can talk after that.”
We ended the call. Quanta and Poole would be listening to the conversation, and I’m sure every effort would be made to pinpoint his location. But if Parks was as bright as I thought he was, he’d be on the move during the call, probably the passenger in a speeding car driven by Jayanti.
I needed to get some fresh air and to think, so I left the hotel and walked a few blocks. The sun did its best to warm the city, but at 63 degrees it was just an average January day for the Phoenix area. I exchanged polite greetings with several people who were also soaking up the meager sunshine. I wondered if any of those faces belonged to people who lived in the fallout zone we anticipated in Mesa.
There was no way to alert them. You couldn’t just broadcast a warning to stop drinking water when you had no concrete proof of when or where a threat existed. The panic could potentially create its own lethal consequences. And yet was it fair to everyone in that potential kill zone to sit on our suspicions?
It wasn’t the first time this dilemma had come up in my work. In fact, it was fairly common. Walking down this peaceful city street I was tempted to stop each person and tell them to leave town for a few days, to just get away. They’d think I was a madman, but at least it would help to vanquish the guilt I felt, staring into their faces.
Instead I smiled and nodded. It made me feel like a murderer myself, a grinning executioner who knew the blade was about to fall.
And that wasn’t my only quandary. Quanta now expected an arrest, while I thought our chances of actually coming face to face with Steffan Parks, prior to the Thresh banquet, were remote. If we could thwart his plan, he might stick his head out. At the very least I wanted to personally handle Jayanti. I still had a score to settle with her.
I got back to my room just after 12. I sat down and waited.
Parks was indeed punctual. At 12:15 the phone rang, from yet another number.
“If memory serves,” he said, “your name is Eric. Is that correct?”
“At your service.”
He chuckled. “You have quite a way of wiggling out of trouble. How many times do you think you can manage that?”
“Oh, I have more lives than a cat. You’d shit your pants if I told you how many.”
“Oh, that’s right. You’re one of the clever ones. Maybe one of the most clever ones with a badge I’ve ever met. Would that be an FBI badge?”
“Close enough. Listen, why don’t we set up a place to meet so we don’t have to do this over the phone?”
Another short laugh. “Eric, not only will that not happen, but this call will only last a short time.”
“Tracing you would be nearly impossible, Steffan.”
“And totally impossible when I hang up. Let’s practice that, shall we?”
And he was gone.
A minute later it rang again. Yet another number.
“I see. You’re going to use a different phone each time and keep them short. Congratulations. You’re officially the most paranoid psychopath I’ve ever chased. And I’ve chased a few.”
“Do you want to spend our limited time being cute, or would you like to really talk?” he asked.
“All right, so you won’t meet in person. Tell me this: Since you know we’re going to be all over the fundraising dinner for Congresswoman Thresh, why bother trying anything?”
He was quiet for a spell, and I could tell I’d surprised him. Then he said, “I was right; you are a clever one. I won’t deny that I have a special interest in hurting Ms. Thresh.”
“You’re going to an awful lot of trouble just to avenge a little public embarrassment.”
Parks scoffed. “Embarrassment? That’s what you call it? When an entire career, an entire professional life has been reduced to ashes, and then for the ashes to be ground under heel? No, this isn’t about something as banal as simple embarrassment. And it isn’t even just about me, which you and your friends seem to believe.”
I decided to play the next card. “You’re talking about the Arcetri?”
Again he paused. When he spoke his voice took on a calm, respectful tone. “Well, well. You have moved to the head of the class, Eric. First rate. It takes a lot to impress me, and I never expect that from a government stooge.”
“Yeah, I do my homework, Professor. But let’s talk about your little organization.”
“My organization? Oh, that’s not accurate at all. They don’t belong to me, nor do they follow my commands. It’s a true democracy, you might say.”
“All right. But it’s an organization built around vindictiveness. It’s powered by anger and feelings of victimization. How long can an agency survive when it’s supported by that platform?”
“You’ve guessed right on so many things,” he said. “But now you’ve reached a pathetically wrong conclusion. Wrong and dangerous. You and those you work for have already made mistakes by misjudging us in the first place. Misjudgment now will have disastrous consequences. Is that clear?”
Before I could answer he disconnected again. I forced myself to relax, taking deep breaths. Time dragged by, so I retrieved a diet soda from the mini bar. It was nearly ten minutes before he called back.
“I don’t feel like discussing the Arcetri,” he said. “But I will offer a warning. You and others have taken advantage of people of science for centuries. You’ve held them back because of your ritualistic and supernatural fears. You’ve contaminated their research efforts with your seedy, personal biases. And you’ve controlled them with your purses. Those days have reached an end. Men and women of science have delivered miracles to an ungrateful public. Now we will decide what to study and how to implement our findings.”
“While murdering a few people along the way,” I said.
“Don’t disappoint me now, Eric. You’ve been doing so well.”
I didn’t want him to hang up for good. It was time to proceed with caution.
“Listen, Steffan, don’t lump me in with the ungrateful public you referenced. There are a lot more of us who are appreciative of science and its wonders than you think. All I’m asking is that you not take it out on innocent people because of a few asshole politicians.”
“The people elect their asshole politicians,” Parks said. “They give them a mandate to control and humiliate. There aren’t as many innocent people as you suggest.”
I sighed. “If you go through with what I think you’re planning, there will be a lot of innocent people hurt or killed. Including children.”
He scoffed again. “Don’t talk to me about children. When good people in almost every field of science are punished and denied a good living, their children aren’t considered for a moment, are they? And it’ll keep happening for centuries to come, assuming our idiotic race manages to keep from killing itself off entirely.”
“Here’s the thing, Steffan. I don’t disagree with you about your treatment, or the treatment of others throughout the years. It’s true; we’ve taken advantage of — and mistreated — the people who have made our lives easier and more fulfilled. But please, let’s find a way of talking about it, rather than killing out of spite and revenge.”
This was greeted with silence and I thought he might’ve hung up again. But then he spoke in a voice that was hushed and pained.
“Eric, it’s been a pleasure talking to someone who, at least on the surface, seems to have a grasp of the injustices my people have endured for centuries. Or more like millennia. But—”
“Don’t hang up,” I said. “Let’s talk about this.”
He gave a low, sad laugh. “Talk? No more talk, Eric. I’ve said I’m going to hurt Ms. Thresh, and I mean to carry it out. Nothing you can do will stop that. And once it’s done we’ll have the attention of more than just a few miserable senators and congresspeople. We’ll have the attention of the world.
“And,” he added, “we’ve only just begun.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Quanta was calling, but I didn’t feel like answering. Not yet. It had only been five minutes since Steffan Parks had ended our call for good, and I hadn’t moved. The soda sat neglected on the table before me. Somewhere in the hall outside my room a child was crying and a parent was yelling. I ignored all of it.
My mind sifted through everything I’d heard, and the frightening part was that I found I couldn’t fault Parks for his indignation. What he said made sense — right up to the part where he seized revenge by murdering thousands of people.
Why couldn’t someone with that particular grievance find a way to get people and politicians to listen without resorting to slaughter?
It dawned on me that the same argument could be made for many groups who felt slighted. We feel our own pain down to the core, but are usually oblivious to the pain of others. It has to affect us personally before we’ll sit up and take notice. And sometimes not even then.
I had to square my instinct to agree with Parks with my disappointment and fear of his ultimate plan.
When Quanta called back a second time I finally answered.
“Well?” she asked.
“You heard every word he said. There’s no chance of talking him down from this scheme. I don’t think he has a shred of regret for the damage he’ll do. All he’s concerned with is avenging every scientist who’s ever been victimized, going back centuries. And the thing is, he has a valid point.”
“Swan—” she started to say.
“Relax,” I said, cutting her off. “I’m not saying I agree with his methods of retribution. I’m saying I at least understand his charge. We are guilty, you know. It’s just that his response is . . . insane.” I paused, then added, “It’s too bad.”
I had to hand it to Quanta. She was good at reading me when I fell into these moods. She knew that a Q2 agent was not just a killing machine for the government, at least not yet. We were human beings, too. Freaks, perhaps, because of our strange tendency to inhabit multiple bodies. But still human, nonetheless.
She waited until I reached my own conclusion, the mark of a superior manager of people.
“We’ll take him down,” I said, resigned to the fact that Parks could not be swayed. “Now it’s just a matter of reaching him before he can kill Thresh and half the population of Mesa.”
Agent Kowalczyk showed up around 4 o’clock. I met her downstairs at the hotel bar where I allowed myself one cocktail.
I briefed her on my conversation with Parks. She listened, asking a question here and there, drinking a club soda and lime.
“It’s not all negative,” she said when I’d finished. “At least he confirmed a couple things. He’s after Thresh, and he’s not troubled about taking down thousands of people to get his cause recognized by the masses.”
It sounded so casual. Thousands dead in order to get noticed.
But she was right.
“He can’t get away with it, though,” Kat said. “We have people installed in all of the water treatment plants that serve Mesa, and we’ve added people to the Phoenix plants, too. The staffs there are on full alert. No one could possibly do anything without gett
ing noticed immediately. I mean, it’s impossible for him to pull this off.”
“If that’s really what he has in mind,” I said.
“If it’s not, I can’t imagine what he does have planned. There’s also a full complement of agents set up to surround the congresswoman. Hell, they’re even supplying every single thing she’ll eat or drink. It’s like the official tasters the pharaohs used to employ. I’m telling you, Parks can’t get to Thresh and he can’t poison the Mesa water supply. Unless he’s some sort of goddamned magician.”
“That’s the thing, Kat. I think the son of a bitch could very well be the kind of magician we’re not expecting. He’s too smooth, even in the face of so many agents descending upon the city. It’s like he doesn’t care.” I stared at her. “Why is that? Why doesn’t he care?”
She didn’t answer, just sipped her club soda.
I waved a hand in frustration. “Time is running short. Tell me what you got out of your meetings today.”
“It was pretty obvious to me. Franks is a major asshole, but he’s not involved in any way.”
“What do you mean?”
“He took offense to being questioned at all. Said he didn’t always agree with Steffan Parks, but could understand why he was angry.”
I smiled. “Yeah, that rules him out, all right. If there’s no Damnation Denial, there’s no collaboration. What about Oosterhaus?”
She pulled out a small notebook. “Classic response from a nervous accomplice. As soon as I brought up Steffan Parks she started fidgeting. At first said she didn’t know him well. Then, when I pressed her, she started in with your . . . what did you call it? Damn something?”
“Yeah, Damnation Deniability. Something I learned from poor Jonas Aiken. Their technique is to throw their companions under the bus. That somehow proves their innocence. So Oosterhaus ripped on him?”
“Said he was someone she not only didn’t like, but that needed to be put away.”