Trust No One (A Lucas Holt Novel Book 2)

by JP Ratto

  Since ADL was a secure building, the cameras recorded around the clock and were not manned at night. Vilari prepared to implement the simple solution Abboud had given him to avoid being caught on camera. It was fortunate that the ceilings in the basement were low and he was tall.

  Vilari slipped on a pair of gloves and pulled the petroleum jelly from his pocket. Lowering his head down and away from the discreet camera to his left, he reached up. He smeared a glob of the sticky substance on the center of the camera lens. Vilari couldn’t help admiring Abboud’s ingenuity. He proceeded down the long corridor to the next camera and covered it with jelly.

  ***

  Johnson brought a tray of sandwiches piled high with Virginia ham and imported Swiss cheese. I wasn’t hungry, but Mac and Gates ate as we discussed possible scenarios once the theft was complete. We had to be ready for anything. The best scenario would be if the thief led us to Brandon. We accounted for the possibility that the delivery location was somewhere other than where Brandon was held. In that case, we would have no choice but to accost whoever took possession of the product and persuade him, by any means, to bring us to Brandon.

  There were so many unknown factors that the more we talked, the more disheartened Gates became. The commander left his half-eaten sandwich and paced the floor, telling us over and over that the plan was doomed to failure. I hadn’t seen this side of Gates before. I could empathize with the anger and the overwhelming doubt and pessimism that accompany the fervent need to save a loved one.

  The tension in the room mounted when Gates’s cellphone rang. Mac and I glanced at each other and waited for what might be word from the kidnappers.

  “Sanders, what’s up?” Gates asked. Sanders, I knew, was one of GGP’s dispatch supervisors. “What?” Gates listened and shook his head in annoyance. “Tell him to do his business and make it fast. And find out what happened to Harrington. This is not like him. He’d better have a hell of an excuse or he’s through. Send someone else and keep me posted.”

  Gates disconnected and tossed the phone on his desk. He looked at us as if he were surprised we were there.

  “Everything okay, Commander?” I asked.

  He dropped onto a leather sofa and grabbed a pipe from the end table. “Okay? I guess that in the scheme of things it’s minor. Nothing Sanders couldn’t have handled himself. But I told him to let me know about anything to do with ADL. I’ve had my fill today.”

  “What happened?”

  Gates lit the pipe and puffed. “Harrington was supposed to relieve Connors over an hour ago. Now I’m damn worried.”

  CHAPTER 22

  Vilari exhaled a breath of relief that the guard from Gates Global Protection was not at his post. According to Abboud, he only had minutes.

  The last camera was tricky. Attached to the low ceiling, it covered 360 degrees, capturing the hallway and the glass-enclosed lab. He knew it would also capture his disguised but familiar frame. Not much to be done about it.

  Vilari bent his head and scrunched his body to further distort the image the camera would pick up and walked under it. Without looking up, he applied jelly on the lens and replaced the soiled gloves with new ones. Again, he checked his watch. Nine o’clock.

  Pulling out the keycard, he hurried to the sliding glass entrance to the lab. Vilari’s hand shook as he made a quick swipe with the card.

  The door remained closed. He swiped it a second time.

  Nothing.

  Thinking of the guard, he looked around. Sweat dampened his skin and scalp under the wig, and he loosened the collar around his parched throat. Shit. Vilari knew there wasn’t a secure way to test the keycard in advance. Anything could cause it to fail. A hundred fucking things could be wrong.

  He checked the time again. The minute that passed seemed an eternity. Come on, you son of a bitch. Vilari steadied his hand and swiped the keycard again, this time in a slow, steady motion.

  The door eased open.

  The toxin and anti-toxin were enclosed in a temperature-controlled circular glass case, at a stable room temperature to minimize the effects on testing.

  Vilari rushed to the middle of the lab. The upper tray was color-coded red and contained five vials of toxin, each a different strength. The lower tray was green and contained an equal number of anti-toxins.

  With shaking hands, he opened the small black tote and removed duplicate vials containing liquids of similar color and viscosity. Vilari replaced them with the deadly toxin and anti-toxin, each vial in a separate section of the case. He placed the decoys into the glass enclosure.

  A beep sounded and the case flashed with a blinking white light. Never having personally accessed the bioweapon, he wasn’t prepared for the alarm. Instinct kicked in and Vilari ran to the lab door, fumbling for the keycard. He fought the fight-or-flight urge and ran back to shut the enclosure door. Immediately, the sound of the alarm stopped.

  What a stupid mistake. Leaving the door open caused the temperature in the case to change and set off the alarm. I have to get the hell out of here.

  He ran to the door and swiped the keycard…too quick. He swiped the card again and the door opened. Vilari remembered what Abboud told him. “The most important thing is to get in and out quickly.”

  As he exited to the hallway, he startled at the distant sound of a flushing toilet. Damn. Reaching the elevator, he noticed the light.

  More flushing.

  The elevator hummed. Who the hell is using the elevator?

  He heard someone cough. Shit. He panted and cringed; sweat poured down his face. What? The guard is coming back! Voices? Who is he talking to?

  The rumbling of the descending elevator sparked fear in Vilari. He looked at the door to a storage closet. I can’t hide. I need to get out of here. In a state of panic, he almost forgot about using the stairs. He turned and eased open the door to the stairwell and stood listening for a moment. The guard moved along a hallway and talked on a two-way radio.

  “Harrington never showed. Patterson is in the building and on his way down now. Everything is secure.”

  The elevator dinged. Vilari closed the door and took the stairs back to the lobby.

  ***

  Now I’m damn worried.

  The commander’s concern sent a chill up my spine. On my previous visit to ADL, I had attached a tracking device to both Vilari and Hoffman’s cars. I checked the app on my phone and according to the GPS, Vilari’s was in the parking garage.

  I punched in Celeste Boxer’s number. “It’s Lucas Holt. You need to check lab six immediately. I’ll meet you there.”

  Mac was out of his seat and already explaining our concern to Gates before I finished talking to Boxer. The commander’s expression was pure shock and self-recrimination. He’d aged ten years before my eyes. Mac poured him a drink and called for Johnson.

  We left the house, climbed into our SUVs, and raced to ADL.

  ***

  Racing up the stairs and back to the restroom, Vilari removed the lab jacket and gloves and threw them in the trash receptacle. The cleaners would take it away before morning. He removed his jacket from under the sink and put it on. He slipped the small cloth case containing the vials in his pocket.

  About to step back into the lobby and make his exit from the building, he heard a familiar voice. What’s she doing back here?

  Celeste Boxer spoke to the guard, who assured her all was quiet.

  “We’re going down to the labs. If Dr. Vilari comes through here, don’t let him leave. Call me.”

  He heard more voices as others entered the building. Vilari recognized the private investigator who had visited earlier. The clash of voices grew louder as they neared the restroom and then waned when they passed and took the elevator to the basement labs.

  Frozen at the restroom door, listening at the prolonged silence, Vilari flushed with a rush of heat and anxiety. How did they know to come back tonight? Abboud would have taken precautions. Abboud. The Arab was waiting for him to call and
tell him the product was securely in his possession.

  Vilari moved to the sink, tossed cool water on his face, and glanced at his reflection in the mirror. He remembered the keycard Abboud had provided and patted his jacket pocket, breathed deeply, and stepped into the lobby.

  He walked to the guard’s station to say good night, as he normally did. Vilari didn’t know the guard’s name. It seemed there was a new one every other day. The security guard was preoccupied with a show on a small TV tucked under the high counter of the reception desk.

  “Good night,” Vilari said, trying to hide the strain in his voice.

  The guard’s head jerked. He glanced past Vilari and at the bank of elevators. “Sir, I didn’t hear the elevator. They not working?”

  “As far as I know they are. I took the stairs—didn’t get in a walk today—too much sitting in this job. I’m thinking about installing my laptop on a treadmill. You know…” The guard stared at Vilari, who stopped talking. Quit rambling and get the hell out! “Well, have a good night.”

  He stepped away from the desk when the guard called to him, “Excuse me, but I need to see your ID and you need to sign out.”

  Son of a bitch. Aware that Boxer and company might come back at any time, Vilari wasted no time and pulled out an ID card. God, I hope this works. He handed it to the guard, who gave it a cursory glance and handed it back. The guard pushed a clipboard toward Vilari. He scratched out a signature, making it as illegible as he could.

  “Good night, Dr. Hoffman.”

  CHAPTER 23

  Rushing toward lab six, I scanned the hallways. The walls were unadorned concrete and the low dropped tile ceiling was inches from the top of my head. I hadn’t realized how claustrophobic the space was on my first visit earlier that day. I noticed a substance on the camera, which hung outside the lab door. “Look at the lens.”

  Mac and Celeste looked up and Mac turned to me. “Well, he is slick. Literally.”

  Celeste remained quiet but looked intrigued by the ingenuity of the thief. I reached up, swiped the lens with my index finger, sniffed. “Petroleum jelly. Might not be much, but we should have Security see what the camera managed to pick up. I think you should be there when they examine the tape. We presume the theft is an inside job and you might recognize someone—even if it’s a distorted figure. Also we don’t know who else is involved—perhaps someone from Security, although it’s doubtful. You need to be the first to see it before anyone has a chance to alter it.”

  I looked at Mac. “Vilari’s car is still in the garage. We need to be ready if he makes a move. But first let’s ascertain something is missing.”

  “Do you want me to check his office and the garage?” Mac asked.

  “No. I don’t want to confront him yet. We need to be able to follow him once he leaves ADL property.”

  “Holt, did you consider Vilari is a decoy and the real thief is long gone?”

  “Yes, but according to the logs here and at the desk, no one has accessed this level before Connors left his post. That narrows the timeframe and the list of suspects.”

  I turned my attention to the GGP guard who stood at the entrance. Unlike his unwavering predecessor, he appeared wary. “Are you Patterson?” I asked.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “How long ago did Connors leave?”

  “About a half hour ago.”

  “Was he at his post when you arrived?”

  Patterson took a few seconds to answer. “I met him in the adjacent hallway. He was coming from the restroom and we walked back here together. He was ill, sir.”

  “Yes, so I hear. And you saw no one on your way into the building or down here.”

  “No, sir.”

  “Since the lab was left unattended, did either of you do a sweep of the area?”

  Patterson’s jaw clenched. His answer was clipped. “No, sir. Connors assured me all was secure.”

  “Right.”

  ***

  Vilari walked out of the building rationalizing that it wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to be there late at night, usually working on reports. Did Boxer suspect he was planning to steal the toxin? Did Lucas Holt suspect it? He had interrogated him as if he were a criminal. Vilari’s chest tightened with emotion. I am a criminal. It doesn’t matter that I had no choice.

  He entered the enclosed concrete stairwell of the attached parking garage and walked down one level. The heavy door slammed shut behind him, the sound loud and reverberating.

  Vilari resisted the urge to run to his car and moved toward it at a normal stride. Unconsciously holding his breath, he huffed and wheezed as he fumbled for the keys. Relax. You did it. He slowed his pace and breathing, his anxiety level abating now that he was out of the main building. He bowed his head and turned away from the garage cameras, which would record a hunched figure. His car was parked in a corner, out of view.

  He unlocked the door and slid onto the cold leather. Vilari started the engine and turned on the seat heaters. If anyone approached, he would drive away. Taking out the burner phone from his jacket pocket, he speed dialed the number Abboud had given him a couple of hours before.

  The Arab picked up on the first ring. “Did you get it?” Vilari flinched at the sharp tone.

  “I have it.” He rubbed his burning eyes. “What do I do now?” I want this to be over.

  “Now you deliver it.”

  Vilari closed his eyes to keep his unshed tears from falling. “Where? To whom?”

  “You don’t need to know whom. Where are you now?”

  “In my car, inside the parking garage.”

  “Leave your car and go to the Metro Center. It’s a short walk. Sit on the bench nearest the sculpture. Someone will come to you.”

  “Now? You want me to go now?”

  “Yes, Dr. Vilari. You sound upset. You must not panic. Remember the fate of you and your family are at stake.”

  Vilari sniffed and wiped his nose with a handkerchief. “I’m fine. I’ll go, but how do I know I’m giving it to the right person? There are still a number of commuters, even at this hour.” He pictured a rendezvous point for such a delivery to be somewhere less out in the open.

  “You worry too much, Dr. Vilari. Go now. Someone will be there shortly. He will introduce himself as Guy.”

  ***

  A touch of petroleum jelly was on the card lock. The door looked solid, no sign anyone broke in. “Can you get us inside, Celeste?”

  “If I can’t, someone’s in trouble.” She swiped her card and the door opened. I headed straight for the glass enclosure holding the vials of the toxin and its antidote. The case appeared securely closed and no vials were missing. Celeste stood next to me, examining the case. Mac remained outside with Patterson, his arms crossed over his chest, his stance intimidating. I could tell he was pissed at the GGP guard.

  “It doesn’t look like anything is missing, Mr. Holt. Perhaps you overreacted.”

  Besides looking at the security tapes, is there any way to tell if the case has been accessed?”

  “Possibly, but to be frank, I haven’t had the opportunity to learn all there is to know about the labs and the equipment.”

  Looking at the case more closely, I noticed two tiny LED lights, one was green, and the other was yellow. “Celeste, do you know what these lights mean?”

  “No idea. Let me make a call to one of the technicians.”

  I stared at the vials but there didn’t seem to be anything to gain. Mac gave me a questioning look, to which I shook my head and shrugged. Celeste ended her call and appeared shaken.

  “The green light means the case is securely closed. The yellow light means the temperature is not optimum.”

  “Not optimum? What does that indicate?”

  “It means someone accessed the case.”

  “Get the technicians in here to test those vials,” I ordered.

  “They’re already on their way.”

  ***

  Vilari yanked the wig from his head and
threw it in a trashcan. He tugged at the collar of his suit jacket as the fall wind howled and leaves from the few trees swirled at his feet. He walked the short distance to the Bethesda Metro Center, slowing every few feet to glance over his shoulder. A few cars passed on the street and Vilari’s paranoia at having possession of a dangerous toxin overwhelmed him. At the same time, chills rippled through his body, sweat streaked his cheeks.

  He eased onto the bench closest to the modern yellow sculpture. Still wet from the earlier rain, the dampness of the seat soaked through his slacks to the back of his legs. One more discomfort in an untenable situation. He bowed his head and closed his eyes, wishing he could disappear. He jumped when he sensed someone standing over him.

  Shabbily dressed, the man’s odor was strong and pungent. “Got something for me, Mister?”

  Guy?

  Vilari recoiled and peered into the man’s watery eyes. The streetlight cast a jaundiced glow over him. He thrust out a grubby hand.

  “What do you want?” Vilari asked. He couldn’t imagine handing over the vials to this vagrant.

  “C’mon, Mister, you look like you could spare some change.”

  Bursting with uncontrolled laughter, Vilari reached into his pockets for a few dollars and handed it to the beggar. Stopped by the stranger’s cold stare, Vilari composed himself and apologized.

  “Won’t be so funny when you have to walk a day in my shoes.” The man turned and shuffled away.

  Vilari burst out laughing again when he noticed the poor man’s bare feet. God will condemn me to hell for sure this day.

  ***

  After leaving the lab area, Mac went to speak with the guard to tell him to expect some ADL employees returning to the building. Boxer and I checked Vilari’s office. He wasn’t there. His desk was covered in reports, which were part of the latest research and should not have been left in plain sight.