by Ethan Cross
Even as she said the words, she knew what that meant, and she wasn’t completely sure that she could go that far. What was she becoming? Torture, murder, working with crime bosses and professional killers. Christopher had said that Mobius would bring out the evil in her, but she had never realized how close to the surface that evil had rested.
Christopher put down his glass and leaned forward in his chair. He took the files from her hands and then took her hands in his, looking deep into her eyes. Part of her wanted to smack him, and part of her was too dumbfounded to move.
“You know, a part of me hoped that you would refuse to go on this trip,” he said. “I imagined that you would stand on the moral high ground. But another part of me is very glad that you did come.”
She couldn’t speak, mesmerized by his baby blues and deep baritone voice. What was this? Was he coming onto her?
“I admire you and your determination, Isabel. I admire your courage. And I understand how painful it must be to have lost your boy, but your life didn’t end with his. I understand the pain, but I don’t understand why it’s broken you so badly. You are one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever met. You’re intelligent. Tough. And even in the short time I’ve known you, I can see that when you love something, you love it with your whole being, every part of you. I admire that passion. I wish that I could be more like you. But I can’t understand why you would try to end your life.”
She felt her hands trembling, and breathing became a chore. She willed her heart to calm. “I don’t know. There was just no point anymore. The despair, the nothingness in my heart, it was all too much to bear. When I woke up in the hospital, I made a promise to myself that instead of feeling sorry for myself that I would do whatever it took to find the people responsible for Tyler’s death.”
“Being a mother was very important to you, wasn’t it?”
“My own mother abandoned us and cleaned out all of my father’s accounts. I wondered for a lot of years what was wrong with me that she could just leave me like that. Marriages break up. People get divorced. But why did she abandon me? Then I realized that it wasn’t me that was broken, but her. And there are a lot of other kids out there that have been abandoned or are alone for one reason or another. I wanted to help some of them to realize that it wasn’t their fault. That even if their real parents couldn’t be there for them, that they could still be loved. That they weren’t alone. That they weren’t broken.”
To her surprise, there were tears welling up in Christopher’s eyes. He raised his hands to her cheeks, pulled her close, and kissed her deeply and passionately. Her heart felt like it was going to pound out of her chest. She wasn’t sure what was happening, but for just a moment, the despair lifted, and she felt alive. Letting that feeling and that moment wash over her, she kissed him back for what felt like an eternity.
Then he pulled away and stood up. His eyes were still wet with tears. He stroked her cheek and said, “I wish that someone like you would have found me when I was a boy. Maybe my life would have turned out differently.”
He excused himself and headed for the bathroom. She sat there a moment, unsure how to feel. The last thing she was looking for was a relationship, especially with a man who worked for Mobius. As she thought of all the dark deeds that Christopher had likely carried out for the crime boss, the euphoria of the moment faded. The despair of reality came crashing back down onto her shoulders. She picked up the files and started going back through them for anything that could help, but in the back of her mind, a thought sprung to life: What if she could save Christopher from this kind of life?
What if they could save each other?
Chapter 65
Sam Carter felt something like fatherly pride every time he watched August Burke do his thing. Not just seeing the young doctor ask questions or present an idea—the real work, Carter knew, took place entirely within Burke’s mind.
Once Burke had arrived back on scene, he got a rundown of everything he had missed. Carter had explained about the breach and the suicide vest and the disappearance of the other terrorists. Carter no longer had a problem thinking of these people in the same category as Osama bin Laden and ISIS; they had far surpassed the descriptions of thieves and hostage-takers. Carter never felt hatred like this toward thieves. He didn’t have a sense of self-righteousness toward criminals. They were merely people who had made harmful and unacceptable choices. But the giant and his female partner had graduated to a whole other level for him. These people had to be caught, had to be stopped, by any means necessary.
He had explained those feelings to Burke as he had described the poisoned hostages and the murdered SWAT officer. Burke had simply nodded and said that he needed a quiet place to think that had a Wi-Fi connection. Deputy Chief Edgar had moved his people over to the triage unit set up at the Walmart where they were coordinating with doctors brought in from St. Rose Hospital while they awaited experts flying in from Fort Detrick and the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. That left the Henderson PD’s comm center unoccupied. Sgt. Ortiz was out coordinating the manhunt and search of the surrounding area. They had people reviewing the footage of every security camera within a mile of GoBox and detectives and officers from neighboring communities poured in to help. All-in-all, it was a fast and efficient operation that covered all the bases and did everything right. And so far, they had turned up absolutely nothing.
Nic Juliano, to Carter’s surprise, had elected to stay behind in order to assist him and Dr. Burke. The tall, dark-haired officer now sat at the conference table, bouncing his leg and staring at Burke expectantly.
Burke ignored them both. He hadn’t said a word or moved in nearly five minutes. He sat perfectly still, a pair of noise-isolating headphones covering his ears. He had asked that they turn off all the lights, leaving the room’s only illumination coming from Burke’s screen.
The pale glow lit Burke’s face from below, making him look like a kid telling a scary story with a flashlight held under his chin. Carter knew from past cases that Burke wasn’t actually listening to music. Instead, the over-the-ear headphones pumped out “isochronic tones and binaural beats,” which was supposed to realign brainwaves and allow for clearer thinking and deeper meditation, or some such nonsense. Carter was skeptical of anything that felt too new-age hipster, but if it helped Burke, he was all for it.
Burke picked his fingernails as his eyes shifted rapidly over the iPad’s screen. From time to time, he would use the Apple Pencil on the screen and then go back to his own little world, seeing the variables, analyzing the patterns. Carter had seen Burke’s elaborate sketch-notes before, but he couldn’t make heads or tails out of any of it. And he didn’t really care to understand. As long as it made sense and worked for his young protégé, then that was good enough for him.
Nic’s phone sat atop the conference table. It vibrated, and the screen lit up. Burke slipped off his headphones and asked, “Is that an update?”
“Yeah, a message from Bristol,” Nic replied. “She’s helping over at the medical quarantine.”
“Any luck with the poison?”
“St. Rose sent over a mobile lab, and the doctor doesn’t think it’s poison. He says that it looks like Bolivian hemorrhagic fever, but much more aggressive. He thinks it has to be a designer pathogen.”
Carter leaned back in his chair, deflated, and said, “So it is a bioweapon. Does he think it’s contagious? Do we have a pandemic on our hands?”
“I’ll ask Bristol,” Nic replied as he began tapping on the phone’s screen.
“After Romeo mentioned bio and chem weapons, I remembered a Russian scientist who had worked at Biopreparat,” Burke said. “I think it was in the MIT technology review. Let me see …” Burke surfed for the article on his iPad.
Carter felt a bit left out and antiquated, these kids were always tapping and clicking. He used his phone for calls and was proud of himself that he had learned to text and check Facebook on the device.
“What
is Biopreparat?” Carter asked.
“It was the Soviet pharmaceutical agency that developed biological weapons. Before the fall of the USSR. It says here that Bolivian hemorrhagic fever was one that they weaponized, and that our government was doing the same before our programs were shut down.”
“So that could be what this is all about,” Nic said. “The CIA resurrected those old programs in GoBox’s basement.”
Burke shook his head. “But they already had possession of the pathogen. And they’re using it to cover their tracks. This has to be about something else.”
“Like what?”
Burke seemed to hesitate. He glanced between the two of them, looking unsure of himself. Carter had seen that look on Burke’s face before, when he was holding back, when he had a theory he was too afraid to share. He was about to push the kid on it, but full of surprises, Nic beat him to the punch.
“Listen, Burke, we believe in you,” Nic said. “Me, Carter, we have your back. You don’t have to be afraid of saying the wrong thing.”
“I just don’t know anything for sure.”
“So what? Then we’ll help you dig deeper. Don’t worry about offending someone or just plain being wrong. Right now, today, you’re a part of this team. And my team members aren’t just coworkers. They’re my brothers. I’ve got your back. Carter has your back. Hell, even Taz. Now, little brother, let’s catch these guys.”
A small grin crept onto Burke’s face, and he quickly looked back at his iPad. “Okay, you said Bristol is over there with the hostages?”
Nic’s phone vibrated. He looked at the screen and said, “The doctor says that it doesn’t appear to be contagious, definitely not airborne. But there’s also no vaccine or treatment he knows of. He’s hoping that the CDC or USAMRID docs will know more.”
No one spoke for a moment, the gravity of those words sinking in. From the last he had seen, Carter didn’t expect those poor people to live long enough for the CDC or the army’s experts to arrive.
“I need you to send her a message back,” Burke said. “Tell her it’s important and to drop whatever else she’s doing.”
“Okay, what do you need?”
“Have her find out if the manager, Quentin Yarborough, is wearing a watch.”
Chapter 66
The doctor was a short but handsome man with shaggy brown hair in dire need of a trim. His eyes were kind. They reminded Gabi of her father’s eyes, having seen death many times but gaining a greater appreciation of life and an affinity for people because of it. She missed her father now more than ever. After all that had happened, she wanted nothing more than to sit on his lap and let his arms take her back to a time when the world was beautiful, and she didn’t have to be afraid.
She knew she would never see her father again. She could never return home, and even if she could, his arms wouldn’t be strong enough to calm her fears or ease her pain.
The doctor had already examined the room’s other inhabitants, her white-haired coworker Deb and the mute blonde woman. They had been the only hostages not to consume the tainted hamburgers, her because of religion and them because they had each carried out a message before the burgers had arrived.
The doctor finished his examination and said, “Well, good news. None of you show signs of what has affected the others.”
“Because we didn’t eat the burgers,” Gabi said.
The doctor smiled warmly. “That’s the working theory anyway. A possibility that may not have been self-evident without your insight, Mrs. Deshpande,” he said with a wink.
Was he flirting with her? “Miss Deshpande. I’m not married.”
She glanced at his hand to check for a ring almost subconsciously. No ring. Not that her head was in the right place to start a relationship of any kind, but he was kind of cute, and charming. She supposed even her parents would have approved of her dating a doctor. Well, if he was a doctor and Indian, or at least Hindu. Maybe he could convert?
What was she doing? Had she been hit in the head or suffered brain damage from smoke inhalation? She could barely keep her thoughts on the current moment.
With another warm grin, he said, “Well … I had better get back to the others, and there is a sketch artist waiting outside to meet with all of you. But I will be back to check on you again soon.”
“Thank you, doctor,” she said.
He stood and moved to the door. “You’re very welcome.”
Once the doctor had left the room, Deb said, “Do you absolutely have to bat your fake lashes at every man with a fat wallet right now? Our friends are out there dying.”
“Deb, you were barely even in there before receiving a reprieve. I had to fight for my life against an armed man twice my size, who then tried to blow me up. And if I wouldn’t have stood up for them, all of ‘our friends’ would still be hostages instead of receiving medical treatment. So next time you think about opening that sphincter you have for a mouth, maybe you should consider to whom you’re speaking.”
The blonde woman with the scarred neck typed a message onto her left forearm, and from the speaker on her right, the sensual but mechanical voice said, “She is tigress. Hear her roar.”
Gabi thought about a female tiger she had once seen at a zoo in New Delhi. Although she knew they were in the wild near where she had grown up, she had only glimpsed one in captivity. Still, even at a distance, behind protective barriers, she had sensed the tigress’s fearsome presence. It was all muscle, but with an elegant feline grace and agility. She felt honored to be compared to such a majestic beast.
She smiled and said, “I’m not sure that I live up to that description, but same to you. I could tell in there that you had a bit of tigress in you too.”
The blonde typed and said, “I like to think of myself as more of a lioness actually.”
“Isn’t the tigress bigger and stronger and more aggressive?” Gabi asked, laughing.
The blonde smiled. “I think that’s accurate. Why? Are you challenging me to a fight?”
“I don’t think I have any fight left in me today. But I do like to do a bit of light sparring at my gym. If you’re still in town in a couple of days, I’d love to have you train with me. Maybe I could show you some moves.”
“I’d like that, but don’t be surprised if I pull out a few moves of my own.”
“By the way,” Gabi said, “I thought the giant destroyed your speaking device. Were they able to repair it?”
“No, I always carry a spare in my luggage. The officers were kind enough to retrieve it for me.”
“Well, that’s—”
The door opened and a tall man in his mid-thirties stepped inside, gently closing the door behind him. He had stylish black glasses and window’s peaks that climbed halfway up his scalp. He gave the ladies a small smile and nod, and with sloth-like movements, he rolled over one of the desk chairs. He wore a typical blue police uniform complete with a gun, flashlight, extra magazines, and other pouches dangling from a utility belt. Although, Gabi got the impression that this officer was more adept with colored pencils than the gun on his belt, and probably hadn’t used the weapon for anything but show since his qualification tests.
In a thick Canadian accent, the man said, “Hello there. I’m Officer Stine, and I’m a sketch artist. I’d like to work with all three of you at once to come up with a drawing of the two assailants that you can all agree on, which may take a little while, but will be a tremendous help to the investigation.”
Officer Stine reached into a black canvas bag he had placed beside his chair and retrieved his sketch pad.
“So, we’re going to start with—”
In a blur of completely unexpected movement, the blonde woman with the scarred neck shot from her seat, grabbed Officer Stine by the temples, and twisted with a sickening snap and crunch.
Chapter 67
After hearing back that the manager was not wearing a watch, Burke shot to his feet and, iPad in hand, left the comm center with no explanation. No
warning.
Nic sat dumbfounded for a moment, but Carter followed right behind Burke, and so Nic stood and followed Carter. He felt like he was hunting with a bloodhound that had caught a scent, and all he could do was hold tight to the leash and enjoy the ride.
Burke was already halfway to the GoBox building by the time Nic rounded the comm center. As he followed, he tried to keep his eyes on Carter’s back and away from the cordoned-off section of blacktop where the rookie had died. He wondered if they had been too hard on the big, dumb kid. Hell, they had even forgot Strom’s birthday, which never happened among their brotherhood.
Burke pushed past the SWAT officer guarding the GoBox entrance, who was trying to keep any unauthorized personnel from contaminating the scene. The officer must have seen him and Carter coming because he made no attempt to stop the young doctor.
Once inside, the place was abuzz with forensic technicians whom Carter had brought in from the Las Vegas FBI field office. The techs wore Tyvek jumpsuits and operated a wide array of data gathering equipment. Nic recognized a few of the devices—such as ground-penetrating radar and thermal imaging—but others appeared even more sophisticated. They were checking for false walls, trap doors, and hidden escape routes. Nic doubted that they’d find anything. If Loria or Yoshida thought they would, then they’d already be shut down.
Burke ignored all of the techs and moved straight to the vault room. He cut a direct path to the back wall, the one covered floor-to-ceiling in black and white tile. At first, Nic thought Burke was heading for the control panel that sat beside the conveyor belt. Instead, Burke held his iPad up to the wall, which held nothing but tile.
For a moment, Nic thought a secret door would open or the wall would rotate on a platform like some Indiana Jones movie. But nothing happened. Burke merely stood there, his nose stuck in the room’s corner, tapping his screen. One minute stretched to two, and Nic’s mind started wandering.