Chapter Thirty-Three
Seeing the street sign appear, Carla turned off the pavement, tires crunching on the new snow as she slowly moved up the driveway of Big Ed’s Auto Salvage.
The caustic odors of burned gear oil and rotting upholstery assaulted her nose as she stepped from the car into the freezing air. Slipping on the ice, she put one hand down to prevent a fall, the snow burning her palm. “Damn!” she cursed.
Getting back to her feet, she resolved to buy a more practical pair of winter shoes as soon as she got back to the city. She cautiously made her way to the door marked office and stepped into the warm interior.
Weaving between the engine blocks and transmissions lying on carts in the large expanse, Carla stepped up to the counter, tapping a small sliver bell labeled “ring for service”.
She studied the rest of the room as she waited, noting the assorted antique automotive memorabilia and parts hanging from the walls and rafters. She also noted the new parts sitting on shelves in neat rows. She rang the bell again, louder this time. The clear tone echoed off the walls, returning to her as multiple, fading, ghosts of the original.
Less than a minute later, a tall, thin man dressed in coveralls appeared in a doorway behind the counter. She took in the grease spots dotting his lanky frame from the dirty Red Sox cap cocked sideways on his head to the oil-saturated boots on his feet.
As he moved closer, Carla estimated him to be about 50, tufts of gray hair poking out from under the ball cap. She suddenly wrinkled her nose, almost overcome by the pungent smell of gasoline that followed him into the room. He smiled and met her at the counter. “Can I help you?” he asked, as he put the wrench he carried under the counter.
“Yes you can. Is Mr. O’Brian here?” she asked, trying to get past the cloud of unleaded fumes now surrounding both of them.
“Are you selling something?” he paused. “Because if you are, you might as well leave right now. We don’t need whatever it is you got.”
Carla pulled out her badge, “I’m Special Agent Carla Raven, FBI, is Mr. O’Brian here, or not? I need to talk to him.”
The man went slightly pale and pointed toward a door marked Private. “Big Ed’s in there. I’ll get him.”
“I think I’ll tag along, if you don’t mind.” She rounded the end of the counter and followed the man to the door.
He tapped a knuckle on the partially open door and quietly spoke. “Ed, there’s someone here to see you.”
A deep voice resonated from the other side. “Send him in.”
Carla’s eyes widened as she entered the room, seeing her own reflection in the highly-polished oak floor. She moved forward, admiring the room’s off-white walls and the massive crown molding outlining the ceiling. As she continued on, an ornate throw rug of brilliant red, silver and blue cushioned her steps.
The office was immaculate and bright, the complete opposite of the utilitarian space she’d just vacated. Her eyes fell on a ship’s engine telegraph standing in a corner, the instrument’s brass body polished to mirror perfection. She noticed the selector handle indicated Ahead-Full.
She continued her visual tour of the room as she crossed, discovering the vast collection of nautical antiques dotting the walls. She stopped before a large glass case standing sentinel in the middle of the floor. Circling it twice, she stared in awe at the nineteenth-century diving suit residing inside, complete with brass helmet and lead boots.
“Now, those guys had balls of steel.” The voice called from across the room.
Carla turned toward the sound. About a dozen feet away, a man sat behind a large oak desk working at his computer. She noted the desk’s intricate carving and smoked glass top gave a final touch of elegance to the room. “I suspect they did, indeed.”
She made her way to stand before the man seated at the computer. “Ed O’Brian?”
The man looked up, his eyes meeting her is an iron-clad gaze. “Yes. What can I do for you?”
She reached for her badge and held it out. “I’m Special Agent Carla Raven, FBI.”
He stood and held out his hand. “Please, have a seat.”
She shook his hand with a firm grip and then sat in one of two high-backed chairs facing the desk. Sinking into the leather cushion, she noted the backs were carved to match the desk.
“I need to ask you a few questions,” she paused for the briefest instant. “About Aaron Casey.”
His deep green eyes met hers, holding her firm in his gaze. “What is it you want to know?”
“You and Mr. Casey are friends. Correct?”
“Yes. We’ve known each other for many years.” He answered, never taking his eyes from hers.
Ed leaned back, the strong features now bent in a deep frown beneath his close-cropped brown hair. He interlocked his fingers behind his head. “What’s this all about?”
She saw the muscles ripple beneath the ivory fabric of a traditional cable-knit sweater as his chest expanded.
Like Casey, Carla noticed O’Brian exuded the animal magnetism and displayed the same fearless bearing as his friend. She moved on. “When was the last time you talked to him?”
Ed stiffened in his chair and repeated himself. “Let’s try that again. What’s this all about?”
She put the badge back in her jacket pocket. “I need to know when you saw Aaron Casey last. Now, please answer the question.”
“Agent Raven, this is going to take a long time if we keep going around in circles,” he said, once again sitting upright. “You tell me what this is about, and then we’ll see where we go from there.”
Carla stood up, annoyance flaring hot. Hands on the desktop, she leaned forward, her eyes again locking with his. “Or, I could arrest you and we continue this in lock-up.”
After a second’s pause, Ed slowly stood and put his hands out, inverted fists side by side. “If you feel it’s necessary. But that gets you nothing, except one very uncooperative detainee.”
Carla paused for a few seconds, staring at him, and then straightened up. “All right Mr. O’Brian, let’s not make this more difficult than it has to be. This information is important.”
Continuing to stand, Ed went on. “Agent Raven, if something happened to my friend, just tell me. He’s obviously in wicked-bad trouble, or you wouldn’t be here.”
Finally sitting down again, O’Brian continued. “Just tell me what’s going on and I’ll try to help you, if I can.”
She watched his face, noting the graying hair at the temples reinforced the air of dignity and authority he unconsciously projected.
“It seems your friend is part of a plot to steal classified material,” she said, trying to shake up the man sitting before her. “He could be facing some very serious charges.”
Ed sat very still for a long moment before the laughter exploded from his lips. After a few seconds he noticed she didn’t share his jocularity and fell silent. His face transformed from a nervous grin into an expression of disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding, right? Aaron could no more steal classified material then he could walk on water.”
“Well, our facts tell a different story,” she said, her delicate hands smoothing the lapels of her jacket.
“Then your facts are wrong. You don’t know Aaron,” he waved his hand in a dismissing gesture. “He’s a decorated veteran for Christ’s sake. He just isn’t capable of that type of crime. You have the wrong man.”
She adjusted herself in the chair, now sitting on the leading edge of the seat. “Look, I’ve been patient with you up to this point. So you either answer my questions right now…or I arrest you for obstruction.”
He put up his hands in surrender. “All right, I’ll tell you anything I know, just to set you straight about Aaron.”
She relaxed, again sitting back. “Thank you. I’m glad you’re seeing reason.”
Removing a pen and notebook from her jacket pocket, she flipped it open. Crossing her legs, she sat back and propped it on her knee. “Do you know
were he is?”
“Isn’t he at home, in Boston?” His eyes told her he already knew the answer.
She broke his gaze, suddenly a bit uncomfortable. “No, he isn’t.”
“Then I have no idea where he is.”
“When was the last time you talked to him?” She made notes as he spoke, her pen dancing in shorthand over the notebook’s small white pages.
“I called him just a few days ago to invite him and Beth to the ice festival.”
“Who’s Beth?” she asked, feigning ignorance.
“Beth is his sister,” he sneered slightly, “But you know that already, don’t you Agent Raven?”
She sat silent for a moment. “Tell me what you know about Casey’s relationship with a woman named Jennifer Ryan.”
“That name is not familiar to me.” he said, shifting in his chair.
Pen poised, she continued. “Casey said they’re acquainted. He’s never mentioned her? Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. Next question.”
“You’re his friend, right? Wouldn’t he tell you if he had a new girlfriend?”
“Yes, he would.” he sat back again, chair squeaking in protest.
She continued to make notes as she spoke. “Then why didn’t he tell you about Ryan?”
“I don’t know. Maybe you’re wrong. Maybe she’s not his girlfriend.”
She picked her head up, again locking his gaze. “So, he really never mentioned her?”
“Never.”
She sat back, tapping her pen on the notebook still balanced on her knee.
“Okay. Let’s move on,” she said. “You know him. If he wanted to lay low, where would he go?”
“Are you telling me Aaron’s missing?” he asked.
Silent again, she stalled, staring straight ahead.
He rounded the desk, sitting in the chair next to her. “Look, respect goes both ways,” he said. “If you’re straight with me, I might be able to help you.”
She contemplated him for a long moment before speaking. “He and Miss Ryan are both missing, and we need to ask them a few questions. That’s all.”
Ed scratched his chin in thought for several seconds. She watched as his expression changed to one of anger and incredulity.
“I get it,” he said. “You think Aaron and this Ryan broad took some classified material and then took off, don’t you? That’s insane!”
O’Brian stood and began pacing the floor. “First off, where would he get classified material? Second, why would he do something so stupid?”
“Maybe he’s not as smart as you think. In my business you see men do some pretty stupid things for women.”
“Aaron’s a lot of things, but you can be sure Agent Raven that stupid isn’t one of them.” Still pacing, O’Brian railed. “And to do something this crazy for a woman! That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. Aaron hasn’t even looked at another woman since…” his voice dropped off. “Umm…, let’s just say your scenario doesn’t hold water.”
“Why not?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow.
“Agent Raven, you obviously didn’t do all your homework. If you did, you would know that Aaron hasn’t even had a date since he lost his Fianceé.”
“What do you mean, he lost his Fianceé? Why did they split up?”
As he approached, Carla suddenly felt the room close in, his closer presence sending unwanted tingles down her spine.
“Sorry to blow your profile, but they didn’t split-up. They were very much in love.” he said.
“So, what happened?” She asked, going back to her notebook.
“She was killed in an automobile accident a few weeks before the wedding,” Ed said. “He was devastated.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” She said.
After a long, uncomfortable silence, she continued, going back to the notebook. “All right, let’s not get side-tracked. Just humor me. Where would he go if he wanted to disappear?”
“Why should I tell you anything? You seem to have made up your mind.” He said, reclaiming his chair behind the desk.
“Easy. To avoid a criminal charge.”
“Look, Agent Raven, lets knock off this pissing contest. Okay?” he said, leaning back again. “You’re not going to arrest me.”
“Oh, really, and why is that?”
“Easy. You need me.”
He grinned and she paused for a second to take it in, heat again flaring in her body, then it was her turn to laugh. “And how do you figure that?”
“Since you’re here, you already pulled our service jackets. You know I’m the only one around here capable of finding him. I’m trained like him, I think like him,” he paused for a second before finishing. “Besides, I’ve been his best friend for twenty-plus years. He trusts me.”
“All true. But why would you help me track your ‘friend’ down?” She re-crossed her legs and noticed he followed the fluid motion, staring for just a second too long as the electricity crackled between them.
Ed broke the silence, answering the agent’s question. “Because I’m not stupid either. I know he can’t hide from the FBI. So does he. You’ll find him eventually, but the longer he’s missing, the guiltier he looks. If what you’re telling me is true, he needs to clear his name before he can come in. I’m sure he’s out there trying to get to the truth.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because I know him…and like I said, he’s innocent.” He leaned forward and she looked up from her notes.
“And when he does come in,” O’Brian continued. “I want to be there. Just to make sure no one gets hurt.”
“My agents won’t harm him, if he comes in peacefully.”
“No offense to the FBI,” Ed said. “But I wasn’t worried about your agents hurting him. I just don’t want to see any of your men go down because of a mistake.”
“You SEALS think you’re so dammed tough, don’t you?” she snapped, a little put off by his thinly veiled insinuation of incompetence.
“Lady, you don’t understand the kind of person you’re dealing with,” he looked deep into her eyes. “Do you even know what the Trident is?”
“Yes. It’s an eagle with a spear,” she said. “It’s the insignia of the Navy SEALS.”
“No. I mean what it really is, what it stands for?”
She rolled her eyes and folded her arms across her chest, leaning back in the chair. “Okay, explain it to me.”
He sat up very straight, eyes locking on hers. “It marks the best of the best in the United States Military. It’s a symbol of total dedication to duty, honor and discipline.”
He paused as she listened intently. “We’re trained to do the stuff you don’t even want to know about. The Navy SEALS are the sharp end of the sword. The Trident is the last thing an enemy sees…ever.”
“And this should affect my investigation why?”
“Why? If your agents try to take Aaron into custody against his will, somebody is going to get killed,” he said. “I don’t want to see that happen.”
“I’m sorry if I came off as insulting before. Don’t get me wrong, I have a lot of respect for anyone who serves,” she said. “However, I also have a duty…to protect this country by finding out what happened to Dr. Ryan, the classified material…and your friend.”
“Then let’s work together!” he said, the frustration creeping into his voice. “I can tell you Aaron didn’t do this, so I think the first job is to figure out who did.”
“You keep saying he’s innocent. How can you be so sure?”
“For two very good reasons. One, he’s a SEAL, and that takes a dedication to country most people can’t even imagine. I thought you, as a federal agent, would understand something like that.”
She shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “And the second?”
“Because I’ve known Aaron Casey all my life. It’s impossible for him to have done what you say. He just isn’t built like that. You need to shift the fo
cus of this investigation. Someone did this and they’re out there, walking around doing who knows what, while we sit here arguing.”
“You have a lot of faith in your friend, don’t you?” she said. “An admirable quality… if it’s not misplaced.”
“It’s not. I’ve put my life, and more importantly the lives of my men, in his hands more times than I care to count and he’s never let me down,” he said. “Aaron Casey is one of the good guys.”
“I hope you’re right, because this time there’s a lot more than just your life at stake. There’s Ryan’s life and the security of this country on the line as well.”
“Then you agree, we should pool our resources to find Aaron and this Ryan woman.” he said.
“I’m sorry. It doesn’t work that way. You’re a civilian and I can’t have you messing around in my investigation.”
Ed threw up his hands in frustration. “You’re making a big mistake. I can help you find Aaron and this Dr. Ryan. We do that, and together we can figure out what really happened to the classified material,” getting no response, he continued. “If we work together, you get this Ryan woman and her information back, whatever it is, and I get my friend back…and no one dies. It’s win-win.”
Carla closed her notebook and stood. “I’ll take it under advisement. I think we are finished here. I’ll see myself out.”
Ed moved between the agent and the door, using his arm to bar the way. “Why won’t you listen to me? I’m telling you, as long as you think Aaron did this, the real perpetrator is getting away.”
Carla looked down at the muscular forearm blocking the door and then back at O’Brian. “Excuse me.”
He paused for several seconds before backing off to allow her to pass. “Fine, you do what you want. But I can tell you this, you screw this up and innocent people are going to die. You better ask yourself if you can live with that.”
Their eyes locked for a long moment before she spoke. “I think I’m capable of handling my case. Thank you very much for your time.”
Carla stepped out of the salvage yard office into several inches of new snow. She brushed the white powder from a small patch of the windshield in front of the driver’s seat.
How could it snow this much in only an hour? Where am I, the freakin’ Arctic?
She saw him watching from the window as she got behind the wheel. Heading down the driveway, Carla almost felt bad about leaving O’Brian behind. Even though he had no real information, she had to grudgingly admit one thing, she may have been a little myopic about this case.
Turning the heater up to full power, she pointed the black G.I. sedan back to the main road. The dashboard clock read 4:45 p.m. and she wanted to head back to Boston before it got any later.
Or the weather gets worse, she thought dryly.
She listened to the steady rhythm of the wipers waging their losing battle to keep the windshield clear. The thump-thump filled the sedan’s cabin as she turned onto Highway 122 and headed north, replaying the interview with O’Brian in her mind.
The still-falling snow filled the headlight beams as she endeavored to keep her car in the correct lane, the task immeasurably complicated by the building wind and premature darkness.
Rounding a gentle curve in the road, Carla never saw the patch of thin black ice beneath the unplowed snow as the tires lost their grip. Heart racing, she unsuccessfully tried to correct the drift as the sedan floated across the opposing lane. The roar of her own heartbeat drowned out the chatter of the anti-lock brakes as the car went into a cyclonic spin and collided with the guardrail, taking out a ten-foot section before careening down the steep embankment beyond.
Time seemed compressed as the car rolled twice side-over-side and a shrill scream burst from her lips. She threw her arms in front of her face as tree branches cracked against the windshield, the staccato blows sending a hailstorm of glass fragments into the turbulent air.
Carla’s horrifying carnival ride finally ended when the car jerked violently to the right, forcing her head through the left window in a cloud of shattered glass. The folds of a velvet curtain lowered across her vision, smothering her consciousness in a thick wave of inescapable blackness.
In its death gasp, the car flipped once end-over end and twirled for the last time before coming to a halt in a cloud of flying debris and a screech of tortured metal.
Carla blinked several times as the pounding in her head grew louder and more painful with each passing second. She could hear snakes…she hated snakes. Their vile hiss moved closer and closer as the blackness slowly receded.
The only discernible sounds in the freezing confines of the inverted hulk were her forced breaths and the hiss of steam escaping from the car’s shattered engine block and equally mangled radiator.
Well, at least that explains the snakes.
Struggling to bring her vision into focus, she discovered she couldn’t move. A sharp jolt of hot panic sizzled through her mind while beads of sweat suddenly dotted her forehead despite the freezing temperature.
I’ve got to get free…Now! The car could be on fire!
She twisted against the seatbelt cutting into her shoulder and waist. Even the smallest movement ignited a painful, burning trail from her left hand, climbing her back, up to her shoulder. Blinking a few more times, she held very still and the world finally began to clear, forming into a sea of white cloth.
Using her uninjured right arm, she managed to push the deflated airbag out of her face while the bolts of pain raced up her spine. Seconds went by before she waved away the dust swirling before her eyes.
She looked through the windshield, now a kaleidoscope of broken glass, at the inverted world outside. Her left arm hung uselessly over her head as her right arm worked in vain at the buckle holding her suspended.
How the hell am I going to get out of here?
Hanging upside-down from her seatbelts, she realized her imprisonment was more than a matter of simple inconvenience.
“Help!” She screamed, hoping the loud, commanding voice would carry beyond the wreck’s confines. She briefly waited for a response and got none. “Somebody please…help me!”
I wonder if anyone is out there?…if anyone can hear me.
Looking around the wrecked cabin, she saw her phone lying on the roof, spilled out of her jacket during the car’s aerial maneuvers.
The phone…get it!
She reached for it and the pain brought a thick flood of nausea, her stomach climbing to her throat.
She embraced the small ray of hope and strained to stay conscious, her fingers desperately grasping at the small device sitting just out of reach.
Just a little further…
She stretched again, the pain exploded in her head, and the world went black.
"Chain Reaction" Power Failure Book I Page 44