by TL Schaefer
The fact they’d called me and not Joe or Lawrence made me even more sure this was about CASI.
This wasn’t... In retrospect it seemed more like someone had realized they needed to throw us off the scent and gaining a cool five mil wouldn’t hurt.
Once we reached the FBI Field Office in Denver, Arin led us back to a conference room and we met with SAIC Kavenaugh. I remembered him from a few months ago, though I hadn't spent much time with him.
He'd been around after they brought Arin and I back from dealing with the Russian, had been a hell of a lot more understanding about what we'd gone through than I would have expected, and Arin had confirmed he knew all about CASI.
Farrell got the cold shoulder almost immediately, and I realized it wasn't just Jonah Summers that Heath had pissed off. I'd been too lost in my own head that afternoon seven months ago to really understand the level of betrayal these men still felt over whatever Heath had done. I'd be asking Arin about that little tidbit as soon as I could get her alone.
The conference room should have been sterile, like an interview room, but instead it was clearly a task force’s meeting space. So why were we in here? Why were they letting us see something that was obviously privileged?
I mean, sure, we were involved, but for the most part, we were civilians, unaffiliated with the FBI. And what we were here for? Tori’s kidnapping? It should have been a basic case for them, and not affiliated with CASI.
A series of whiteboards had been filled up, and I walked around the room, taking it all in. The whole gig in Denver, where Boris, the Russian special forces soldier who'd been controlled by the drug Simple Simon had almost killed me, was mapped out. Who'd somehow transferred his thoughts to me before he died, and in doing so, likely saved us all.
Simple Simon. Such an innocent name for such an insidious drug.
The walls, in fact, looked one hell of a lot like Farrell’s dining room.
Even though we were on the same side, I was surprised to see some of the information I’d thought held close by our little group.
Kavenaugh settled in at the head of the table and eyeballed Arin, then shifted his glance to where I stood. "So your daughter has been kidnapped, a ransom request has been made, and this is the first the Bureau has heard of it?" He didn't appear to be overly pissed, just wanted to get what he knew, or suspected, out on the table.
This was my fight. "Arin tracked a flight plan to a private airfield on the other side of Denver, but that’s as far as we got before the ransom call came in.” I was inordinately proud of the fact my words didn’t come out shaky. Being here, with the FBI, with Kavenaugh in front of me and Heath beside me, went a long way to that stability.
Kavenaugh sat back in his chair and gave Heath a long stare. “How convinced are you this is a ransom?”
Joe and Lawrence both began to speak, but Kavenaugh held up a hand. “Farrell?”
“Not very, or at least not solely,” Heath replied, then reiterated what we’d all discussed back in Colorado Springs. “The demand was handled as an afterthought, not as the primary motive, at least not to my thinking. Plus, they called Monica, not the Foudys. If they were smart enough to snag Tori from a private school, they’re smart enough to know where the money is.” He took a deep breath. “This is about CASI. I have no idea how or why Tori and the Foudys are involved in this, but yeah, it’s about CASI.”
Kavenaugh nodded, as if Heath had corroborated something. “When Arin pulled me into this seven months ago, I wasn’t overly skeptical. What I didn’t expect was this story to take an international turn, but it has.”
I stood a little straighter, watching his face. Felt Heath tense next to me. Saw Joe and his father exchange a bewildered glance.
“What are the odds of the Russians, or someone else, trying to build another CASI, here in the U.S.?” From the way he asked it, I could tell it had been on his mind for a while, probably since we all bailed out of Denver like our tails were on fire.
But to me it was a fucking bombshell.
His words completely made sense, but from my companions’ expressions, they hadn’t even begun to go there. He’d caught us all flatfooted.
Could someone really be making their own CASI? And what could Tori possibly have to do with it?
I leaned against the wall, drawing in deep breaths. Beside me Heath was doing the same, though he’d taken several steps away, as if to separate himself from the rest of us. Become his own private island.
Screw that. He’d been there for me when I needed him, and as weird as it sounded, I wanted to be there for him right now. I pushed away from the wall, met his eyes, and tipped my head toward the table. We’d do it together or not at all.
The corner of his mouth quirked up, so minutely only I noticed. We both moved to the table as my mind began sorting through this mess.
And since I’ve never been good at keeping my mouth shut, I started talking.
“It’s like a great big fucking pile of multicolored yarn. Every time we think we’ve found the right piece, the right color, we pull on the thread and everything goes to shit.
“There’s been so much we never knew about who and what drove Wes Burke, and then Gordon. Too much we’ve never uncovered, thanks to Trang and his perfect head shot. So yeah, someone starting a new CASI makes as much sense as anything does right now.”
Kavenaugh nodded, leaned forward and looked directly at me. He knew I had the most to lose, even more than Joe. My kid and my very identity had likely been at risk for more than a few days.
“Here’s where story time begins. Buckle up. This all started in the sixties in the United States with an arm of the Army called Task Force Delta, though we knew the Soviets were working something similar. In their case, at least from what the defectors told us, they were using LSD and similar drugs to enhance latent psychic abilities.”
Heath interrupted, and he looked disconcerted. “An early version of Simple Simon?” He hadn’t known of this at all, which had to bug the hell out him. The NSA usually knew everything, even if this had occurred when he was a child.
Kavenaugh see-sawed his hand. “Sort of. But not on our side. In the US it really began with a benefactor here. A man who knew about the Talented and began to pull them into Task Force Delta where their gifts could be developed safely. While only a few folks above him in the chain of command were Talented, there were enough that his original intent was twisted into something unrecognizable almost immediately.”
I got a sinking feeling in my stomach. I wasn’t going to like what he said at all.
“The government decided to weaponize the Talented in Task Force Delta, forming them up under a new command called the First Earth Battalion. They were put in positions of leadership, over those who weren’t Talented, but were the Guinea pigs for the drug regimens that would eventually become Simple Simon.”
Mother of God.
“It went sideways pretty fast, with not only the experimentation on normal humans, but with the Talented placed “in charge.” Abuse was a pretty regular occurrence. And you can only cover up so many deaths before an alarm gets sounded.”
Roney made a noise that sounded like a growl. Or a bear. “Just like with Sara at CASI, all those years ago.”
Kavenaugh dipped his head in agreement. “We’ll get there in a minute.”
Roney unflexed his entire body and settled back, arms crossed over his chest. Now he looked like a bear, and a disgruntled one at that. Beside me, Heath had taken Brian’s tension and added it to his own, until he felt like he was going to shatter.
“The guy who’d started all of it was pissed that his idea had been taken to such extremes, all of them far away from his original intent. He’d envisioned Talented assisting the military, being strategists, advisors. Not utilizing their powers, their persuasions, on regular folks. So he left Task Force Delta.”
“And moved to Colorado, started his own school.” Heath finished for him.
Kavenaugh tilted his head again. “Yo
ur step-father. Hugh Meece.”
Holy shit on a stick. Our world had just gotten a whole lot more complicated.
Chapter Eight
WHAT CAME BEFORE...
I've been sitting, staring at my placement paperwork, for the last two hours. My counselor says I need to find something to do with my life, that as a junior, I’m behind my classmates in working toward my future.
I remember when I was a little kid, everything seemed so clear to me, but even now I can't remember what it was I wanted to be.
I'm pretty good at English, okay at math. I honestly just don't care. I like seeing how things work, and making sure that everyone gets a fair deal.
That doesn't seem like much of a career to me. I'm not patient enough to be a mediator, like my counselor suggested—stupid people make me cranky.
My part time jobs don't help much. I know I don't want to be a waitress forever, even if the tips are pretty good. And I don't think I can work in an office, at least not like the one I've been temping at every day after lunch.
Fifteenth floor—way too far off the ground, too far from what's going on at the street level. It's also way too sterile, smells like fake flowers and sorrow. I heard that last part in a movie once and it stuck with me. Can't say the movie wasn't right though.
So now I'll go through the motions, make my counselor feel like she's doing her job, because honestly, it isn't her fault that I just can't make up my mind.
Since Papa and Grammy died, it's been more about today, about paying the rent and putting food on the table, than planning for any kind of future.
I don't know what Mama would do if I ever left her anyway. If she had her way, I wouldn't even work the jobs I do, but we've got to pay bills, and Papa's life insurance—what little there was—got spent a long time ago.
I know it makes my counselor frustrated that I know all the details of our household, that I almost support my Mama, rather than the other way around, but Mama’s always been there for me, always been the one who told me I could do anything. So I will. For her.
Now... Denver
“So you think these people who are starting a new CASI took Tori. Why? Because I’m Talented?”
Across the table, Joe flinched, then turned a look on me that was close to murderous. It was as if he’d been playing along at believing us, but now he’d been forced to face reality.
That I was different, and that Tori had likely been kidnapped because of it.
Heath pulled Joe’s attention away from me, nodding at Kavenaugh as he did. And his words? Jesus, they were a gut-punch I hadn’t anticipated, though I should have.
“Another government, or even our own, looking at CASI with an eye toward exploitation has always been a concern. But I never imagined they’d go so far as to kidnap a child to ensure cooperation on our part. Us or the Russians. It’s entirely possible someone has tried to create a similar program.” He stopped, his voice almost raw as he uttered the last words. “When Sara and Wes shut CASI down all those years ago, they shuttered the school, but not the intent driving it. Back then it was all about exploiting the children, using them for government and personal needs. And vendettas. We know for a fact that the original headmaster, Dr. Green, did exactly that by taking Burke and Gordon with him and raising them as his own. It’s not too much of a stretch that he was being funded by someone. It doesn’t matter that we’ve done a one-eighty on that intent under Jonah.
“Burke and Gordon are dead, and since we haven’t seen anything else in all this time, until now, I didn’t think there was anyone else involved with their level of Talent and control. Honestly, I still don’t.” He sighed, his gaze skipping over my face before settling on Joe’s. “They may be looking to start fresh, with the daughter of someone they know is Talented. We’ve never proven Talent to be genetic, but it stands to reason.” He shrugged. “I can see someone going there, and doing it full steam.”
Joe’s fury was impressive. Even more impressive was his ability to tamp it down. Sort of. “So they either took my daughter as leverage or breeding stock, is that what you’re saying, Farrell? Well, fuck them, and fuck you. I’ll end them myself, and you? When this is all said and done, we’ll have a conversation. But until then, where do we start?” He turned to Kavenaugh, very purposefully excluding Heath from the decision-making process.
My mind was whirling, a million thoughts tumbling as I tried to stay rational. Inside, every molecule screamed. If Tori had been targeted because of me, I didn’t know what I’d do.
Right now, rage percolated through me. A mother’s protective nature. As it had since I’d discovered she’d been taken. But until now, I’d been thinking of Tori as leverage, even as we considered CASI. I’d never really put two and two together, and from the look on Heath’s face, he had, but not seriously.
Jesus.
If my kid was a casualty in his war, I’d flay him.
But as much as I wanted to destroy Heath right now, I had to slide into my old role, that of a detective, of an analytical thinker, when all I wanted to do was rage into the ether.
“If we go with the assumption this mysterious “they” is trying to start a school or compound of their own, they’d need more than Tori, right? Are there other missing kids out there?”
Heath jolted like I’d electrocuted him.
Kavenaugh was already calling in a junior agent and giving him specific directions on what to look for in the missing persons database. Such specific instructions that I knew he’d been aware of CASI for a very long time.
I let out a breath. This would work. Before the junior agent left, I added a little tidbit. “The kids themselves can be identified, likely through the courts. They're bound to act out, hit a blotter somewhere. I suspect that's how Jonah finds them as well, since he went through something similar."
Heath went still next to me. Did he think we were oblivious about how he'd rescued Summers? And then betrayed him? "Stands to reason that whoever is doing this has a similar recruitment method."
Heath cleared his throat. “I have someone on the payroll who might be of assistance as well. I’ll call him as soon as we’re done here.”
I didn’t even want to know. Screw that, I totally did.
INTERESTINGLY ENOUGH, our first real lead, besides the flight manifest, came from the Park County Sheriff’s Office. They'd been called out to one of the many rural areas to take a looksee, because something about a newly sold property just didn't look right.
Commander Ignacio Torres from the Investigations Division stood before us now, ready to brief.
He flipped a whiteboard in the corner, pointed to a map, then a series of still photographs next to it.
"We identified this property a week ago on a tip. Unusual amount of activity around a house that had been all but abandoned a year ago. We sent one of our deputies up to investigate and he said it felt off, but he couldn't put his finger on anything.
"The house itself has been completely rehabbed, but no one can tell me when or who did it. Even the neighbors, few and far between as they are, didn't know anyone was living there, didn't see any construction trucks. Nothing. Of course we got interested. We’re not citified like Denver, we just don’t see people pouring money into houses and not making themselves known. So we called Kavanaugh to see if he had any intel."
"Property owner?" Joe asked.
I was a bit surprised. Since Colorado Springs Joe seemed to be stepping into Farrell's role. I caught the hard look Heath shot my ex, but he didn't intercede.
"Shell corporation," Kavanaugh answered. "Even our cyber geeks couldn't drill down far enough to find an actual person."
"Almost like CASI," Arin murmured.
She was right. When this had all started almost a year ago, it'd been hard, really hard to dig out Farrell, to really figure out what was going on. Here, today, felt almost like when we'd huddled with Sara's Captain Davis, when he'd had his son engage in a bit of creative computing.
"Almost," Kavenaugh piped in.
"And because of that, I put two guys on the property three days ago. They're discreet, and already read into what y'all are doing down south. Even if we had no idea of the latest twist when I sent them in."
Farrell grunted, maybe in disagreement, but he wasn't in charge here. Not anymore.
I looked at him, considering everything that had happened so far, and his part in all of it.
He'd been the one moving us forward from day one, and little by little, his power had been siphoned away. It took standing back to realize that right now, today, Heath Farrell was not the man he'd been even six months ago.
His children had been threatened twice, his ex-wife hospitalized, and the school of his heart under siege. He'd lost a long-time friend in Summers, and now appeared to be on the outs with Kavenaugh and Joe as well.
Farrell had always been an island unto himself, but now he was like one of those volcanic outcroppings, all craggy and sharp, dangerous but beautiful.
I internally shook my head.
We were here for Tori, for the potential of other kidnapped kids, not for me to analyze Heath Farrell's problems, or my surprisingly sympathetic reaction to his isolation. Because both of us had become islands, and both of us had done it willingly.
And maybe like called to like, at least when it came to being stoic. Because he’d been first on the scene when Tori had been kidnapped. Had held me after my nightmare. Had been my rock when the sensations at CASI had all but bowled me over.
With everything that had happened, I could go all sideways and think about ulterior motives, and how convenient his timing was, but he'd never even given the hint he was anything but genuine about Tori’s disappearance.
The way he’d held me, the way his arms had felt around me, had been anything but duplicitous. While I didn’t want to deal with the feelings those thoughts evoked, they cemented my faith in Heath. Didn’t matter if it was logical or not.