by Amy Gamet
I’d sink a whole ship full of sailors for you, baby.
“Yes, Dad.”
He smiled like a child who couldn’t keep a secret. “That boyfriend of yours, Greg?”
The hair on the back of Julie’s neck went up. “Yes?”
“He was sent to bring you back to do this.”
“What?”
He waved off her excitement. “I have always been so proud of you. I told everyone who would listen how my girl was a natural-born code breaker. They thought it would be too dangerous if I came back here myself, so they sent Greg to come get you.”
Dizziness crept into the back of Julie’s brain, her father’s words beginning to ring like church bells in her mind. “They sent Greg?”
“Yeah.” His expression turned dark and ominous. “Fucking hotshot thought he could do this without me. Bring you back himself and take me out of the loop.” His laugh was too loud, his happiness pronounced. “I took care of that dumb ass son of a bitch.”
“The motel,” she whispered.
The body in the bathtub was Greg.
“You know about that?”
Julie battled the sick fear that made her want to double over. “Of course. The code in the safe deposit box. That’s how they found me.”
“Oh, right. Yeah, right. He wasn’t good enough for you, Julie. We’ll find you somebody real good when we get home. A nice Uzkapostan boy like your old man.”
“We’re going to Uzkapostan?”
“Tomorrow morning. The same flight Greg was going to take you on.”
“I don’t have my passport.”
He flashed her a cocky smile. “Oh, yes, you do. I got it from your apartment.”
~~~
With an eerie sense of déjà vu, Hank ducked under the yellow police tape and approached the smoldering building. A guttural scream rose in his chest and begged to be freed as he walked closer to the brownstone and the familiar smell of waterlogged timber.
No. No. No.
“Sir, you need to step behind the barrier.”
He flashed his badge. “Who’s in charge?”
The fireman nodded to a woman standing beside a large red SUV. He identified himself, his hands shaking as he flashed his badge and asked, “What do we have here?”
“Explosion. Appears to have been deliberately set, probably natural gas. One confirmed dead.”
He could feel his chin trembling. “Male or female?”
“Male. From the neighbor’s description, it appears to be the owner, Leo Basinski.”
Hank pressed his palms to his eyes and nearly wept with gratitude.
“You okay, mister?”
“Yes. I thought it was a friend.” He took a big breath. “Was there anyone else in the building?”
“Negative. Neighbor says he lived alone.”
Hank’s cell phone vibrated in his pocket. He fished it out and saw an unfamiliar number with an 802 area code.
Vermont.
He stepped away from the SUV. “Hank Jared.”
“It’s Gwen.”
“Thank God. Where are you guys?”
“Julie’s not with me.”
“Where is she? I’m sitting outside Leo Basinski’s house, watching them carry him out in a plastic bag, Gwen. What the hell’s going on?”
“Oh, my God. We were just there!”
“Where’s Julie?”
“She’s with her father. I’m following them, Hank. Ninety-five north. I think Julie wanted me to call you.”
“You think?”
“Yes.”
“I’m getting in the car now. You can fill me in while I drive.”
~~~
It hadn’t been easy to convince him to come to Boston.
She told her father the computers at Systex Corporation had superior processors to the ones in Uzkapostan, which would enable her to hack into the Navy procurement database in half the time. That was a lie, but in Boston she had a fighting chance to save her own ass.
She was driving Leo’s late model sedan down the interstate, the smell of old cigar smoke thick in her nostrils. Her father was in the passenger seat, a beer and a gun in his lap. The gun was for protection, he said, but Julie didn’t believe him.
She’d watched that gun kill Leo, and it had probably killed Greg, too.
“Slow down. We don’t want to get pulled over,” he said.
That’s what she was hoping for, which is why she was speeding. Easing her foot off the accelerator, she glanced in her rear view mirror to check for the minivan that had been following them since they left the house. Her father hadn’t known Gwen was waiting outside for Julie, having shot Leo before the other man had a chance to tell him.
Call Hank. Tell him to come to Boston.
Julie was concentrating hard, and her head was beginning to pulsate in tempo with her own heartbeat. She was trying to send telepathic messages to her aunt for the last hour, feeling like an idiot trying to bend a spoon with her mind at a slumber party.
She didn’t even believe in this stuff.
His business card’s in my purse under the seat. Gwen, call Hank. We’re going to my office in Boston.
Her father belched in the seat beside her. “I need to take a piss.”
“I’ll get off at the next rest stop.”
“I gotta piss now. Pull over.”
Julie knew she’d lose Gwen if she did that, and her grip tightened on the wheel. “It’s the interstate, Dad. A cop might stop if we pull off the road.”
He leaned in close to her, the stink of beer and unbrushed teeth permeating the air. “Just. Fucking. Pull. Over.”
Julie put on her turn signal and felt Gwen’s question as soon as she touched the brake.
Keep going, Gwen. Keep going.
As if in answer, the minivan swung around them, continuing down the road. Julie watched it disappear in the distance, leaving her completely alone with her drunken crazed murderer of a father, and a gun.
Chapter 10
The Prudential Tower stood sentry in the distance as Hank turned down Boylston and headed once again for the offices of Systex Corporation. The city streets were empty, the parallel lines of concrete sidewalks and asphalt streets dominating the landscape.
He couldn’t help but feel he was going in circles, both literally and figuratively. Two visits to Boston. Two arson scenes. Chasing Julie south then north again. Chasing Julie even when she was standing right in front of him.
She was something else.
Hank rounded the corner and found the coffee shop Gwen had described, unlit except for its sign. The minivan idled at the curb and he pulled up behind it. Her willowy figure headed toward the passenger door.
“That was fast,” she said, reaching for her seatbelt.
“I made up some time.”
“Lucky you didn’t get pulled over.”
Hank pulled away from the curb and made a sharp left into the Systex parking garage. “Who said I didn’t get pulled over?”
Gwen rubbed her hands on her thighs. “What’s our plan?”
“Damned if I know.”
He steered the car around the concrete pillars of the hulking structure, empty of cars at this time of night. “I’m hoping Julie left a way for us to get in.”
“She might have.”
“She better have.” He pulled into the first spot after a series of handicapped spaces. Turning his body toward Gwen, he asked, “Do you know how to shoot a gun?”
“Yes.”
He raised his eyebrows.
“I’m a country girl, Hank. I know how to shoot.”
He nodded, handing her his backup. “We have to assume McDowell is armed.”
“I think Julie’s trying to tell me as much. I keep picturing a gun.”
A fierce protectiveness surged through Hank at her words. The simple reality that she could be hurt released a torrent of energy. “Let’s go.”
An elevator next to the Systex Corporation sign marked the entrance to the offices.
Hank stepped up and pressed the button, which lit beneath his hand. The doors opened and the pair stepped inside, neither knowing who or what they would be facing when the doors opened again.
~~~
“I need to write some code to have my computer analyze the database encryption type.”
“What does that mean?”
“I have to see what type of security they’re using. I’m going to write a computer program to help me find out.”
Julie sat down behind her desk and opened several windows on her computer. The first would make it look like she was writing the program for her father. The second would allow her to send text messages from her desktop to Gwen’s cell phone. She set up her programs so she could quickly toggle between the two if her father came to look over her shoulder.
She typed, “IN MY OFFICE IN BOSTON. R U HERE?” Then she switched windows and began writing the computer program.
“This is where you work?”
“Yes.”
“What do you do?”
“I’m the Director of Technology. I handle all the computer issues for Systex.” Julie forced her eyes to stay fixed on the screen in front of her, though they wanted to seek out her father’s face.
The man’s a murderer and a traitor, and you’re wondering if he’s proud of you?
She swallowed her juvenile thoughts. “There’s soda in the kitchen, just through there, if you’re thirsty.” Julie was certain he would have preferred something alcoholic, but she had neither the means nor the inclination to provide it.
He scratched his forehead with his thumb. “Coffee?”
“You can make some.”
His brows snapped together, but he went in search of the machine. Julie flipped back to her texting program and saw that Gwen had answered.
“OUTSIDE MAIN DOOR. KEYPAD CODE?”
Julie felt the breath she’d been holding in her lungs release in a grateful huff. “568*14. STAY IN LOBBY. HAS GUN. KILLED LEO. SUNK DERMODY.”
“R U OK?”
“4 NOW.”
“HANK IS HERE.”
Hank is here.
Julie made a little sob as she read the words.
“What are you doing?” said her father from the doorway.
How long had he been standing there? “Writing the program.” She deftly toggled back to the other screen and hid the message from Gwen, though she could feel her cheeks burning a telltale red.
Her back stiffened as he walked behind her to see for himself, staring at the pitiful few lines of code that patterned the screen. It must have been enough to satisfy him.
“Where are the coffee filters?”
“In the cupboard to the right of the sink.”
She counted to ten before walking to the door to make sure he was gone. Again she messaged her aunt. “CALL POLICE. GIVE THEM CODE TO GET IN.”
It took several minutes for the reply.
“WILL DO.”
Julie’s shoulders caved in and her head fell to her chest. She had been in her father’s company for nearly twelve hours. Her body and mind were fried from the constant state of high alert.
With a deep cleansing breath, she lifted her head and refocused her attention. She needed to get the gun away from her father so no one got hurt. She tried to predict how he would react, but her father was not acting like himself. Julie feared he would lash out at her as he had done to Leo and Greg.
For the moment, she busied herself writing what she hoped looked like a legitimate program, buying herself some time for Hank and the police to arrive. She managed to complete several screens full of computer code before the smell of burning coffee pulled her attention away.
Pushing her chair back from the desk, Julie prayed that everyone would be safe when this showdown was ended, then headed for the office kitchen.
~~~
“She wants us to call the police,” said Gwen. They were standing in the lobby of Systex Corporation, the light from the EXIT sign highlighting the gloss on the tall black reception desk.
“The Navy should handle this, not local law enforcement.” Hank rubbed the side of his index finger along his lip.
“I trust your judgment.”
His eyes met hers. “I wish I knew who to trust.”
“Barstow?”
“That’s the question. The call should go to him.”
“Hank, Julie says her father really was working for Uzkapostan. He was the traitor.”
Hank’s poised his thumb over his cell phone. “I believe her best chance of getting out of here lies with Barstow.”
“That’s all that matters now.”
It was that simple, wasn’t it? He loved her, and he would do whatever he could to get her out of here unharmed. For the first time, his decision had nothing to do with loyalty to the Navy or his own sense of right and wrong. He didn’t care about anything except Julie.
“Barstow,” answered the voice on the line, sounding no different at two in the morning than at two in the afternoon.
“We’ve got him, sir. I need backup at the offices of Systex Corporation in Boston, Massachusetts, ASAP. We have a potential hostage situation.”
~~~
The gun was on the counter next to the coffeemaker, surrounded by a fine sprinkling of sugar that contrasted with the reflective black granite. She considered grabbing it, and imagined herself in control of the weapon. Could she turn it against her father to save her own life?
John McDowell was an imposing presence in the tiny kitchen. He stood at the sink, his back to her as he sipped his coffee and considered a piece of abstract artwork that hung between the two sets of wall cupboards. At fifty, his wide shoulders were still heavily muscled, his back graceful and catlike in its proportion and curvature.
“You’ll never get there first,” he said.
She swallowed against the tightness in her throat. “What?”
“The gun,” he said, turning to face her. “You’ll never make it to the gun before I do.”
Julie stood up straighter and met her father’s eyes fully. It was then, in the office kitchenette, that she was able to see him as he really was for the very first time. The last mask had been removed, the final act performed.
John McDowell stood before his daughter, a man broken by hatred and his own willingness to allow evil into his soul. They squared off, each taking measure of the other, and Julie knew he would kill her as easily as he had killed the others. As soon as he realized she couldn’t hack into the Navy’s computers, she would be dead.
An unexpected freedom washed over her. She was not afraid. Suddenly able to distance herself from her father, she saw that her own achievements as a human being had surpassed the father she once adored. She was not beholden to him, but the victor in a battle that had been raging inside her since he left her alone in the world.
She needed only to placate him until the others arrived.
“I’m trying to help you, Dad.”
“Of course you are.”
The ring of the elevator arriving on the floor punctuated the silence, setting their tableau in motion. Her father reached for the gun with one hand even as his other came around her midsection, pulling her to him and placing the barrel of the pistol at her temple.
Julie fought him, writhing against the steel bands that were his arms. He ignored her attempts to free herself, dragging her toward the lobby where the elevator had surfaced and taking cover behind a tall potted plant.
The lobby was lit only by security lights, leaving areas of shadow throughout the waiting room and offices beyond. Julie’s eyes raked through the familiar room, looking for any sign of Hank or Gwen. Had they been so foolish as to alert her father to their presence, or had the ringing of the bell been a deliberate distraction?
“Who knows you are here?” he hissed, the damp heat of his breath collecting in her ear. When she didn’t answer, he snaked his arm across her neck and pressed painfully on her throat. “You double crossed me. This is how you treat your father?”<
br />
Julie fought for breath against the pressure of his arm, panicky in her search for air. A glass shattered on the wall next to them, and his arm yanked back in surprise. He pushed the barrel of the gun harder into her head and used her as a human shield, twisting and turning in an attempt to see the person who had thrown the glass.
From the corner of her eye, Julie glimpsed the doorway of the kitchen, dark against the lighter hallway. They had left the light on, she was sure of it. Someone was in there, the faintest silhouette of a human form hovering knee-high in the door frame.
So long as her father held a gun to her head, anyone who came to help her would be held as hostage as she. An odd calmness allowed Julie to consider her choices with a distant reserve. She could stay captive in his arms, or she could fight back.
Thrusting her weight to the right, her father’s legs were forced apart as he tried to counterbalance her move. Her heel shot up quickly into the open space, connecting with his groin. His yelp of pain coincided with a loosening of his grip, and she pounded her elbow into his vulnerable solar plexus.
Her attention was focused on the kitchen doorway. She began to run, Gwen’s silhouette now visible as her aunt got to her feet. Time slowed and the distance to the kitchen grew longer, moments held suspended as she waited for her father’s inevitable reaction.
The walls pivoted around her and she knew she was going down, confused and panicked as her body began to fail her. Julie never heard the shots that entered her back and slipped into her chest cavity. The last thing she saw was Gwen’s face, stricken in horror as her beloved niece fell to the ground, thick red blood seeping from the holes in her body.
Chapter 11
“The layout is a square within a square,” Hank said, recalling details from his initial meeting with Julie. “Offices on the perimeter, lobby in the middle, surrounded by an inner square of offices. Walkways from the lobby connect to the perimeter hallway.”
Backup arrived fifteen minutes after he called Barstow, which felt like a fucking eternity. His muscles flexed as adrenaline flowed and he worked to keep himself in check.
“You’re with me,” Hank said to the tallest of the men. “You two take the other stairwell.”