Dead and Gone

by Tina Glasneck

  “The tablet is a fake,” Brian said.

  “We get that now,” Finley replied.

  “It’s not illegal to bring a copy of an artifact into the US.” Brian’s gaze held Finley’s. “Especially when the provenance that travelled with that piece indicated exactly that.”

  Finley nodded.

  “I think you should uncuff Dr. Abadi and release Nadia and Jael. Unless you have other charges to level?”

  Finley pulled a key from his pocket. “My apologies, Dr. Abadi.”

  “The goal was to catch the Gilchrests.” Sophia rubbed her wrists where they were red and raw. She cast a frightened gaze toward Black. “The FBI can’t arrest them for having a fake tablet, but I was promised that America would get them. That they would pay.” The fear that they had failed in their mission slipped away as anger took its place. “The Gilchrests are the reason that Nadia and I were kidnapped. They’re the reason why we went through that hell. They’re why I’ve been tormented with seizures and PTSD. I want them to pay for what they did to us. To me.” Sophia was shaking with fury. She had been the good soldier all these years for the best interests of America, of Syria, and the whole damned world. But she’d also done it to make the Gilchrests pay.

  “The Gilchrests believed the tablet was an artifact. Our operatives discussed the transaction—how we’d move a relic from Syria to America through customs without it being confiscated at the border. They believed it was the real deal. They conspired to bring in a conflict relic. They paid nearly a million dollars—which would be an absurd amount if they truly believed this was a fake. All of that is on video. We have their banking information, and we’re set to act on it. As we speak, the American government has frozen just shy of a billion dollars of the Gilchrest family assets contained in off-shore accounts.

  “Finley, Andersson, and I have worked together before. I assure you that all our information will be shared. While the CIA does not enforce laws, or act on American soil, the FBI can certainly make the case that the Gilchrests knowingly funded ISIS.” He sent a look to the Special Agents before turning his attention back to Sophia. “Your services, Dr. Abadi, have been invaluable. We certainly want to continue our relationship. Though I know you had a very specific goal over the last few years, the artifacts, the people in harm’s way, terror—they are bigger than the Gilchrest family.”

  34

  Brian

  Monday p.m.

  Sophia had rolled her shoulders forward like an armadillo in its protective posture. Lana was taken to another room. After that, everyone but Brian left. Only Lynx said goodbye to Sophia as they exited.

  She was that unapproachable.

  “Lana isn’t a threat to America,” Brian said. “She was frightened for her family. She isn’t in this for ideological reasons. They’re going to use her as an asset. She won’t be held prisoner. They’ll dangle that threat over her head to make her comply with what they want. But she’s going to go home to her family. I feel almost a hundred percent sure. She’s too valuable to them.”

  Sophia turned turbulent eyes his way. “Who has my boys?”

  “Margot—she’s our Panther Force auxiliary. She steps in to make things run smoothly in our operations. She took your boys to her house. I suggest you let them stay with her tonight while you get your feet under you. You’ve had one hell of a week.”

  Sophia squinted her eyes.

  “We’ve arranged for a suite at the hotel up the street. We’d like you to stay there until new housing can be arranged for you. Your environment is concerning.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. She was as shut off as she could physically make herself.

  “AACP gave us permission to bring their computers here to Iniquus. Black and Finley will make a plan for how to address the malware on your computer.”

  “You know how Lana accessed the information?”

  “We have a good guess. We know some of the steps.”

  “You knew Lana was involved but didn’t warn me?”

  “We just got that information during your arrest.”

  “Abduction.”

  Brian thought that one through. Yeah, it must have felt that way to her.

  “I’m not legally obligated to do what you say. I don’t have to go where you tell me to.”

  Brian hadn’t seen this one coming. He thought for sure Sophia wouldn’t want to go home. He pictured the mound of dirt in her front yard. The unplanted flowers wilting on her driveway.

  “I want to sleep in my own bed tonight. I’ll make other decisions tomorrow. Marla’s in custody. It should be safe for me to go home.”

  “We don’t think that Marla had anything to do with the flowers and Mr. Rochester.”

  “She was a crazy person. Titus Kane said that she was really Betty Campbell, and she was remanded to a mental hospital. She kidnapped her children. She hissed at me! Of course, she’s responsible. If she’s not responsible how do you explain everything?”

  “The fingerprints—” Brian started but Sophia threw her hand up to stop him.

  “I need a ride. Take me home or call me a Lyft.”

  It was a quiet ride. Sophia kept her gaze out the window the whole way. She held her body tightly together. Unyielding.

  They pulled up to her house, and Brian unsnapped his seatbelt.

  Sophia’s head swung around. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “I’ve been hired by AACP to keep you safe. You signed contracts allowing me to do just that. It includes access to your house. I’m going to go in to make sure that it’s clear.” Brian made sure his tone was calm and professional, his face neutral. He was just doing his job.

  Sophia let him in, but left the front door open—the message clear. Get in, get it done, get out.

  He searched the house, and it came up clean. The whole time he’d been in soldier-mode. But when he saw Sophia sitting on her couch, staring at the picture of the boys, it was a gut punch. Brian didn’t want to go. He’d learned on the battlefield to trust his gut. His survival instincts were engaged. He needed to convince Sophia to leave.

  When Sophia turned toward him, he saw the eyes of mothers who faced daily bombings. Grief, hopelessness, pain.

  The pain was directed at him. He’d hurt her. She knew he’d had a hand in today’s takedown. The trust was gone. “It’s killing me the way you’re looking at me. It’s tearing me to shreds that you’re hurt.” He took two steps forward, then took a knee so they were eye to eye. “I was doing my job, Sophia. I had to be neutral. I couldn’t go in thinking you were innocent when I didn’t know if you were or not. My job was to save the antiquities and help stop ISIS.”

  She said nothing. Her attention was back on the picture. She reached for the ring on the bracelet that was now somewhere over the ocean, heading to its resting place.

  “I’m only in your life because of my job.” He moved to sit in front of her, his knees, wrapping his arms, and holding his wrist. He realized this was the way he sat in tribal tents when he was talking to the chieftains, trying to get intel and make agreements. He was negotiating. But for what? Brian pulled the phone from his pocket, with a swipe of his finger and a quick code, he turned off the surveillance equipment. He looked up. Sophia hadn’t budged. He doubted she’d even noticed.

  “You can’t imagine how surprised I was when you came into the Panther Force war room.”

  She glanced his way.

  There was a mild spark of curiosity that Brian decided to pounce on. “I want to tell you what happened last fall. When we met on your birthday, I thought we connected. I thought I’d met ‘the one.’ I felt absolute comfort. Absolute trust. Like I had known you always. It was shocking to me that I didn’t know your name. That I didn’t know a single thing about you. Nonetheless, I felt as though you were a haven, and I could lay everything in front of you—the good, the bad, the hideously ugly—and you would look at all of it and accept that that’s me.”

  He tried to push down the chuckle that
bubbled up. This was far from amusing, it was nerves. Brian swallowed down some of his anxiety and pushed forward. “For me, that night was the beginning of the rest of our lives together.” Brian’s lips twitched as he tried to regain an impassive expression. He didn’t want to frighten her with the intensity of what he was feeling. “Then I woke up and you were gone. I realized I didn’t have your last name. Your address. Your phone number. No way to contact you. No way to know who you were. You paid in cash. You were so familiar—it never occurred to me that I didn’t know anything about you.”

  Sophia’s brows drew together. “You tried to track me?”

  “Of course I did! I went back to that damned bar every night for two months.”

  “And then you gave up.”

  “My assignment was over, and I headed back to Washington.” He fixed his gaze on her. “I was raised on the power of prayer. And believe me, I prayed. Usually, I asked that you be held in grace and kept well. You were always on my mind. I felt like I was failing you. That there was something that needed doing. One night my prayer changed. I said if I was supposed to be with you, I needed to be put back on your path. Three days later, there you were, standing in the Panther Force war room. Hell of a thing. The woman I fell in love with was finally in front of me, and everyone thought you were a criminal.”

  “And you thought so too.”

  “I kept myself neutral about the case. That didn’t mean that I didn’t feel the connection from our night together. Since the moment I met you, loving you has been a hard fist around my heart. It hurts like hell. You hurt like hell, Sophia.”

  Brian saw anguish fill Sophia’s eyes.

  “It killed me that you walked away. Ran away. It hurt that you were suspected of a crime, and that I was the one who needed to find out if you were culpable or not. It hurts to see you struggling so hard to keep your head above water. I’m in awe that you’re able to put one foot in front of the other. One thing I realized through all this is that my love for you isn’t going away. I could still love you, Sophie, even if you got so desperate that you’d do something like sell artifacts to ISIS. I’d turn you in and help bring you to justice, that’s my job. But I’d want to be there to make sure the boys were okay, that you were supported.”

  She tipped her head back and looked at him with a sardonic twist of her lips. “In prison? You’d come visit me in prison and talk to me on the phone while we put our hands up on the glass between us? Put some money in my account so I could buy cigarettes to pay people not to attack me?”

  She wanted to goad him into a fight. He worked to keep everything on an even keel. So far, he’d done okay delivering the facts. Telling his story. “If you broke the law, yes.”

  “And you thought I could.” Now there was a fire in her gaze as her anger heated up. “How could you? We’re talking about people I care deeply about. Friends of mine being tortured and killed. Their heads chopped off for propaganda and stuffed between their feet in the town square. Their families. Their homes destroyed.” Sophia’s hands flung out as she spoke to show the enormity of her anguish. “Syrian children are starving. Their hospitals are being bombed.” Her hand came to land on her head as she whispered, “My God, what kind of person would facilitate that? How could you think that of me? I spend every day—every day—working to stop ISIS.” She put her hands on the cushions on either side of her, as if to brace herself upright. “How could anyone who says that they love me think that I helped to fund terror?”

  Brian felt his own emotions tipping toward pissed off. Not at Sophia, but at the circumstances. “In a normal life, you’d never consider it. But my god, Sophia, the shit that’s been thrown in your direction for years now? It’s a miracle you aren’t strung out on drugs or in the loony bin.”

  She suddenly stood. “You know what? Get the hell out of my house.” She moved to the door and threw it wide. “Please, I need you to leave.”

  Brian pushed to standing. “Sophia, that sounds permanent. I don’t want to go until you tell me when I can see you again. That, at the very least, we can work together.”

  “You can’t. We can’t. I need to put a lid on this box and file it in the closet with all the other boxes of crap I’ve got stacked in there. Tomorrow, I’ll request that you not be part of our detail when Nadia and I go to Peru. If I’m very lucky, I’ll never see you again.”

  Silently, Brian moved out the door, and Sophia shut it behind him. She didn’t slam it, but there was a finality about it, nonetheless.

  35

  Brian

  Monday p.m.

  “Brainiack here.”

  “Fucking hell, man, this is soul crushing.” Nutsbe was calling in from headquarters.

  “She still crying?”

  “Since you turned the surveillance back on. You want to tell me what hell you said to upset her like that? ‘Cause when you get back here, I’m going to Kick. Your. Ass. It’s not enough that she finds a dead body, is arrested, interrogated, and hears her best friend is a Hamas asset all in one day? She held it together like a champ. What the hell did you do to her that turned on the waterworks?”

  “I for sure didn’t make things better.”

  “You were supposed to go home and tuck her into bed, give her a big-ass dose of sleeping meds and sing her a lullaby. Seriously, man, what the hell happened?”

  “She’s unhappy that she trusted me while I distrusted her. She no longer wants me involved in her security.” He dragged a hand over his face. “I guess we can put Gage in play. I’ll have to talk to Titus when I get in.”

  “You weren’t sleeping with her, were you? We’ve got rules for a reason.”

  Brian was surprised that Nutsbe was yelling at him. Nutsbe usually kept a solid emotional distance from their clients. Getting stoked like this was out of character. “No, Mom, I didn’t touch her,” Brian said.

  Sophia must have gotten under Nutsbe’s skin. Sophia had a way of doing that. She was strong as hell, but it was a translucent strength. Underneath, her vulnerability glowed through. That combination was nose candy to an operative addicted to adrenaline. Someone they respected and wanted to rescue at the same time amped their protective instincts. They’d done a shit job with the rescue. He had, Brian qualified. He’d done a shit job protecting Sophia.

  “You’re going to have to explain the surveillance blackout. That wasn’t kosher, dude. I’d get my story together for Titus. In the meantime, I have your location as the Community Center.”

  “Affirmative. I’ll keep watch on my phone apps. What time is Thorn relieving me?”

  “Zero two hundred hours. He’s in the racks now, getting some Zs. I’ll do an on-the-hour check. I guess tomorrow I can get her moved so we can stand down. Is she still talking to me?”

  “She’s only requesting that I get the boot from her detail. You should be fine.”

  “Here’s to a quiet night then, man.”

  Brian had gone to the store for provisions before checking in with Nutsbe. Now, he forced himself to eat before he opened the apps. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to swallow while watching Sophia cry. And one thing he’d learned as a FAST operator was to eat when you can. Running out of fuel could be deadly.

  He ate, drank, and went into the Community Center to use the men’s room. Back in his car, he felt like a coward as he looked at his black phone screen. It was time to face up to what he’d had a hand in creating. He opened the app to find Sophia on the couch, crying. As he watched, there was a weird scraping noise in the background—metal against rock—that he couldn’t place. Brian drove down the street. Parking at an empty house with a for sale sign, he hiked over to the copse of trees at the top of the cul-de-sac.

  Joe was shoveling the dirt from his father’s grave into the hole. Brian watched as Joe planted the rest of the flowers, put the plastic holders in the recycling bin, then pulled his hose up the hill to clean off the sidewalk, water the new plants, and wash the extra dirt out of the road and down the culvert. It looked nice when h
e was done. Brian wondered what was going through the man’s mind as he did those tasks. Brian would have been suspicious of Joe’s actions, had they not determined earlier in the day that Joe’s fingerprints weren’t on the trowel or construction materials that had punctured Sophia’s tires.

  Brian made his way down to talk to Joe, crossing over Kay’s yard to stay out of Sophia’s view in case she were to glance out the window.

  “Joe,” Brian said in a tone designed not to startle the guy. Joe came over with his hand extended for a shake.

  “Thank you for finding Dad. We can give him a proper burial now.”

  “How is everything going? What are the police saying?”

  “They did an autopsy. They said he didn’t aspirate any dirt, so he was dead when he was buried. There was no signs of a fight or external force. He was scraped up from being dragged by his ankles. That happened after he died too. A heart attack did him in. Then someone hauled him to Sophia’s house and buried him.” Joe rubbed the back of his neck. “I can’t figure that one out. That or the other thing.”

  “What other thing?” Brian asked.

  “Someone cut off his left thumb and took it with them. They had a cadaver dog out sniffing around, thinking they might find it.” He pointed toward the trees. “I’ve tried to figure it out. I asked if maybe an animal might have bitten it off while Dad was in the garden. You know, moles are carnivores, and we’ve got a bunch of them around here.”

  “What did the medical examiner say?”

  “It was cut off with some kind of sharp shears. Someone wanted his thumb. The police called it a trophy. It doesn’t make sense to me.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss.” Brian put his hand on the man’s shoulder.

  Joe blinked. “Yeah, it’s a weird set of sensations. I’m sorry he’s gone. Relieved though. Part of me is glad he’s at peace—things were getting hard there toward the end. And then there’s that odd gnawing sensation that I failed—it’s sort of like shame. Yeah. I’d call that shame. I’m embarrassed someone got hold of my dad’s thumb.” Joe looked over at the garden. “Sophia said she’s putting her house on the market. I figure that’s going to be a good thing for me to do too. I don’t think I can drive home every day and look at those flowers.” Joe reached out and patted Brian’s shoulder. “Thanks again for everything you all did for me and my dad.” He gathered the hose, hung it on its hook, and went back inside his house.