by Dom Testa
For the first time her face showed real concern. She glanced at the group of people on the far side of the room, then to Kat, then back to me.
“Let me tell you about the only direct, one-on-one conversation I’ve had with Mr. Parks,” she said, her voice low. “Our committee hadn’t yet decided on any action at the time; it was a possibility that we’d have to cut funding, but the vote hadn’t taken place yet.
“He came to my office and, although he didn’t have an official appointment, I felt he deserved a few minutes to pitch for continued support. After all, the man won a Nobel Prize, that should be worth something, right?”
I nodded and let her continue.
“For the first minute I thought he was one of the most charming people I’ve ever met, and I’ve met a few, as you can imagine. His manner was calm and respectful. But the moment I even mentioned how the budget might require us to make some changes, he . . . he came unhinged, as my mother would’ve said. He didn’t exactly shout, but his voice took on a rather ominous, threatening tone. Two of my assistants were there, including Benjamin, who’s a former wrestler, thank goodness. Benjamin stood ready in case Mr. Parks tried something physical.”
“And did he?” I asked.
“No. But he did lean toward me and say a budget wasn’t the only thing that could get cut. I believe I actually took a step backward. He was so . . . menacing. Not just his voice, but his entire demeanor. All I did at that point was give a look to Benjamin, and he ushered Mr. Parks out. That was the last time I saw him, or even heard from him.”
“But you’ve been aware of his actions since?”
“Oh, yes. I was briefed on his reaction to the fact that his proposal to the Pentagon was denied. As it should’ve been. No humane individual would ever think our country should operate in that manner. And I’ve been told that he may have been involved in the killing of a fellow scientist. Is that correct?”
“He’s the prime suspect, along with some colleagues.”
The congresswoman shuddered. “I’m sorry to hear about that. But really, I have a hard time believing he’d try to get revenge here tonight. Again, I’m very grateful for all the work you and Agent Kowalczyk have put into the security.”
She looked over to where her aide motioned. “I’m so sorry, but I have to speak with some other people before the dinner begins. Is there anything else I can answer for you?”
I thought about it. “I’m told you don’t have any other plans while you’re back in Arizona. Is that right?”
She nodded. “I won’t even be spending the night. I’m on a plane as of 10:10 tonight and back in Washington three hours later.” She chuckled. “Much to the chagrin of my parents. They’re always furious if I don’t stop by to see them.”
Through instinct I almost reached out and grabbed her arm. “Your parents? I was told your parents lived in Idaho.”
“They do, most of the year. But they’re senior citizens, you know, and have suddenly decided to be true snow birds. This year they’re spending October through April here.”
Kat and I exchanged a stunned look.
“Where?” I said, a little more loudly than I intended.
Another look of alarm crossed Eleanor Thresh’s face. “In Sun City. It’s about an hour—”
I didn’t let her finish the sentence. I bolted toward the door, and felt Kat right behind me.
Sun City. Just to the northwest of Phoenix. A popular destination for the snow birds the congresswoman had mentioned. Including her parents.
As I raced toward the building exit, a replay of my phone conversation with Steffan Parks rolled through my mind. The part where he made his intentions clear.
I have a special interest in hurting Ms. Thresh.
Dammit! He never said he was going to kill her. He said he would hurt her.
Parks wasn’t going to poison the people of Phoenix or Mesa.
He was going to murder the people of Sun City.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
I was halfway to my van in the parking lot when I got the idea. I stopped so fast that Kat nearly ran into me from behind.
“What is it?” she asked.
I pointed across the parking lot in the other direction. “Traffic will be miserable right now. Unless we take that.”
She followed my gaze. “The helicopter? But that’s in case of an emergency with the congresswoman.”
“This is the emergency. Your agent Tahoma can keep an eye on things, but nothing’s going to happen here.”
“You don’t know that.”
I didn’t wait to argue. As I began running toward the chopper I called back over my shoulder, “Sure I do.” Then I added, “Coming?”
She gave a large groan of frustration but started after me.
The pilot was named Grogan, small and wiry, and also former military. He listened intently as both Kat and I showed our badges and told him we needed a lift. He got out a phone to make a call of confirmation and I gently put a hand on his forearm.
“Mr. Grogan, we’re going to have to make that call in the air. Things are that serious.”
He squinted as he looked into my face, trying to decide on the spot if he could violate his orders.
I added, “We need you to deviate from protocol. You’ve done it before, I’m sure. It’s how shit gets done and lives get saved. Am I right?”
He glanced at Kowalczyk, who said, “It’s not just a few lives; it’s maybe tens of thousands.”
Looking back at me he hesitated, then gave a quick nod. “Climb in.”
It took a minute to get everything up to speed and the rotors spinning. I used that time to patch my phone into the radio headset Grogan handed to me.
“Poole,” I said as she came on. “Emergency alert. We’re on our way to Sun City.” To Grogan I asked: “ETA?”
He’d just started the process of lifting off. “Call it 14 minutes. Maybe 12 if I can get in touch with local air traffic control for emergency clearance.”
“Poole,” I said. “We’ll be on the ground in 12 to 14 minutes. I need to know which location. Can you send that to both me and Agent Kowalczyk?”
I turned in my seat to Kat.
“What about your agent in Chandler? Can they confirm that Oosterhaus is still immobile?”
Her face was grim. “She’s not answering. I have someone on the way now.”
I sat back and rubbed my forehead. In a matter of minutes things had turned into one big jolly shit show. If the poison was already in place in Sun City, then Parks was merely a phone swipe away from sending a lethal solution through 24-inch ductile iron pipes to an unsuspecting public.
If Oosterhaus was hooking it up now, we might have a small window of opportunity to stop it.
Poole called me back. There was one primary plant that would most likely be the target — and she couldn’t raise anyone there. Police had been notified and were en route. They’d arrive about the same time we did. I gave the coordinates to the pilot. He nodded and gave a thumbs up.
I gazed out the side window and took in the gridlock of traffic below. Without this last-minute addition of the helicopter at the conference center it would’ve taken us maybe an hour to get to Sun City. But even with this quick airlift we might be too late.
Grogan’s voice piped through my headset. “Halfway. Say six minutes.”
Kat leaned forward and touched my arm to get my attention. I turned to look at her phone’s screen.
The FBI agent assigned to watch Oosterhaus had just been found in her car, outside the house.
She was dead. No external sign of foul play.
I looked at Kat. “She was poisoned.”
I turned back to the window, silently cursing. All along, from the time I’d first heard his name while sitting in Quanta’s kitchen, I’d made the worst mistake of the entire mission. I’d automatically assumed that Steffan Parks was an amateur when it came to crime. He was a scientist — granted, an award-winner, but that wouldn’t necessarily make someo
ne gifted in the art of villainy.
Parks, though, was different. And I’d underestimated him at every step.
He’d masterminded the murders in Santa Fe without being caught.
He’d commissioned and retrieved the tech devices he needed in San Antonio and danced out of town.
He’d assembled a team of fellow dissidents from an association known as the Arcetri to help construct his scheme, and employed various thugs to do the dirty work. His thugs had been offed, but Parks had scampered free.
He’d taken the one potential inside connection I had — Jonas Aiken — and pretty much toyed with me, letting me believe I’d get the data I needed. He’d brought the lovesick fool all the way back to Arizona to bolster my confidence and to kill some more time before Thresh arrived. Then, in a snap, he’d pulled the rug out and left my mole dead in a public restroom.
And now he’d fooled all of us with a classic case of misdirection. The world’s greatest magicians kept you watching one hand while they did whatever they wished with the other. In the end you felt like a fool for not picking up on it.
That was me: Steffan’s fool. And he was no amateur.
There were many of us who would not only feel foolish if this ended tragically, but would be held accountable by the highest powers. And where would Parks be while we were crucified for failing to save an entire community from a madman?
He’d be off with Jayanti, no doubt, laughing. Then he’d offer his wicked services to an enemy of the state who’d certainly leap at the chance to do business with a killer who could so easily baffle the United States and its supposedly-well-trained agents.
It would be a catastrophe on multiple levels.
My brooding was interrupted by a shift in the helicopter’s flight path. We veered to the right and Grogan began to bring it down a touch. The cars below us still crawled, but up ahead I saw what had to be the water treatment plant. They never gleamed like the Emerald City; rather, they were built to be as inconspicuous as possible. From the air I counted an assortment of five buildings, covering a large city block like a compound. This plant, like most, was a drab tan, unmarked, and completely unlovable from the outside.
I guess when you thought about the process going on inside it made sense they would be kept so nondescript.
There were two police cars in the parking lot, and two more that were stationed in the street. A few passersby on foot were gathered, taking in the spectacle. It had to be the first time in their lives they’d seen drama at Sewage City, or whatever the locals called it.
Since it was after six o’clock there was room at the far edge of the parking lot, and Grogan set down the chopper amidst a whirlwind of dirt and dust. I shook his hand and thanked him for fudging on his orders. He responded with a standard “Roger that,” and wished us luck.
Kowalczyk and I ducked beneath the rotors and hurried to the main door. Four police officers, looking wide-eyed and tense, dutifully examined our badges then nodded. The one in charge, Sgt. Oakes, was beefy but sharp. He quickly filled us in.
They’d arrived six minutes before us. The doors to the facility were locked and there was no answer. One of the officers had made a quick run around the perimeter, and discovered no other unlocked entrance before reaching chain link fences with razor wire along the top. They were awaiting instructions and the arrival of a lieutenant.
“We’re not waiting,” I said, and while this prompted more concerned looks, no one spoke up.
With a solid kick I broke open the door and the six of us carefully edged inside. The main room was vacant.
I pointed toward a door on the right and two of the patrol officers, with guns now drawn, worked toward it. Kowalczyk joined them. Sgt. Oakes, the other officer, and I made for a hallway to the left. It, too, was deserted.
Shoving in an earpiece, I connected with Poole.
“We’re inside,” I said. “Help me with directions.”
“Stand by,” she said. A moment later she came back. “You want to head toward the back, and that will take you out a door into a large lot. The building you want will be about 30 yards to the southwest.”
I acknowledged this and led our small team down the dimly-lit hallway. Normally I’d tread lightly through a potentially hazardous zone, but my gut told me all the action was taking place in that posterior building. Still, we moved at a pace where we wouldn’t be caught off-guard by someone jumping out from one of the dark offices.
“Eric,” Kat said from behind me. I stopped and let her catch up.
“Four people in that room off the lobby. One dead, the other three terrified out of their minds. The one who was killed was assigned here as part of the extra security we ordered. They were all told if they came anywhere near the door they’d be shot. And to make the point they bashed another one of the men across his forehead. An ambulance is almost here.”
“Shit,” I muttered. “Did they say how long ago this began?”
“About fifteen minutes.”
I didn’t know if that was good for us or disastrous. Oosterhaus might only need minutes.
Poole spoke up in my ear. “One mystery is solved. Oosterhaus does work for Chandler water, but she also serves as a consultant for two other districts.”
“Including Sun City,” I said.
“Correct. She’s helped them for the past two months.”
Another victory for Parks. A private consultation like that wouldn’t show up in most checks, and it allowed Oosterhaus entry to the plant anytime without suspicion. Apparently once he learned of Thresh’s parents’ snow bird plans, he put everything into motion. My guess was that he’d been ready for a while, and just waiting for a location and a visit from Thresh. The Arizona connection was perfect.
We reached the back door of the main building. I checked in with Poole.
“There’s a courtyard and two buildings,” she reported. “Remember, you want the one to the southwest. There’s no cover between the buildings, however. You’ll be exposed to fire if they’re waiting.”
I gave a short grunt of a laugh. “We arrived in a helicopter. They know we’re here.”
The Sun City police sergeant moved next to me, gun drawn. “How many people are we talking about?” he asked.
“I don’t know. But I guarantee at least one who’s armed.”
I reached for the door handle, then turned back to Oakes. “Oh, and something else you should know. These people specialize in poisoning their enemies. So if you see anything that resembles a syringe or a spear or who knows what, be alert. The shit they use will kill you within a minute.”
He gave me a look like I was crazy, and maybe I was. I’d lived with the insanity of Parks and Pradesh for so long that it all seemed routine to me. It had to sound like action-movie nonsense to anyone else.
Time was wasting away. I positioned our group so that I’d go first, followed by Oakes, the other officer, and then Kowalczyk at the rear, providing cover.
I pushed open the door, stuck my head out quickly then brought it back. When that didn’t prompt gunfire I did it again, taking a moment to get the lay of the land.
It was just as Poole had described, an open space of ground between our main building and two other structures. Security lights bathed the area. It was just what an offensive team like ours hated to see, while someone defending the other side loved the clear shooting lanes.
There was nothing to be done about it at the moment. I took a deep breath, then bent down and hustled outside. Oakes knew about proper spacing and followed that protocol. The second police officer did the same. We all ran.
When I was within a few feet of the other building a spate of shots rang out. I heard Oakes grunt behind me, and a louder cry from his partner. Immediately there was return fire from Kat.
I was so close to the building that I dove to the ground near its base, out of the glare of the lights. A moment later Oakes hit the ground beside me. He was breathing hard and holding on to a spot near his hip.
�
�Bad?” I asked.
He removed a blood-stained hand. “Hurts like a bitch,” he said with a grimace. “I’ll need to do something about it soon.”
We both looked back. The other police officer was down, unmoving, and it didn’t look good.
Kowalczyk was nowhere to be seen.
Then I heard her whistle. Looking across to the other building I could just make out her shape in the faint shadows. When the shots began she’d detoured to the closest cover.
We were separated.
I gave her a quick hand signal to hold tight for a moment, then turned back to Oakes.
“Did you get a glimpse of where those shots came from?”
He was in serious pain, but nodded. “Yeah. This building, the window on the far right.”
We were out of that line of fire, but Kat would be cut down if she ventured out again.
Things had gotten bad very quickly. The other two police officers were back with the people they’d discovered in the front office. There were two more patrol cars out front, in the street, but I wasn’t exactly sure what they could do, even if they followed our path. The gunman — or gunmen — now were ready for battle. Anyone else who came out that back door would be torn apart.
With the Sun City sergeant busy bleeding next to me, and with Kat pinned down across the way, that meant one thing.
I’d have to go in alone.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Under normal circumstances I could’ve stayed put, helped the sergeant, and waited for the cavalry in the form of a SWAT team and a regiment of patrol officers. That would’ve been nice.
Instead, with every passing minute the chances of Steffan Parks swiping right — or whatever he’d do to unleash the stream of tabun into the water supply — increased. He was camped out somewhere, comfortably waiting for the thumbs-up from Oosterhaus that the deadly potion was in place.
All of that was bad. But I realized it wasn’t ideal for Parks, either. He’d gone through the trouble of having the phone app built so he could commit the crime at his leisure, with his chemicals in place well in advance. Thresh’s visit, however, was a last minute affair, put together in days. But it was an opportunity Parks couldn’t pass up. Sure, he could’ve killed the congresswoman’s parents at any time, but he was definitely the kind who loved the high drama of actually having her in town, just miles from the kill zone. Somehow, to his warped way of thinking, that increased the hurt exponentially.