Next Exit, Quarter Mile

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Next Exit, Quarter Mile Page 41

by CW Browning


  “Sgt Curtis came down with flu-like symptoms,” she answered. “I think he infected himself. He's in the hospital on Quantico.”

  “If he did, then everyone who's been treating him has been exposed,” Hawk exclaimed.

  “Yes,” Viper agreed grimly. “I wanted to terminate him, but Charlie wants to use him. He's taking Curtis.”

  Hawk let out a low whistle.

  “Charlie's getting involved? Personally?”

  “Yes.” Viper pursed her lips thoughtfully. “I think he wants to determine just how far this technology goes. Sgt Curtis obviously developed it while he was in Afghanistan, but if they sold it, this may be an even larger issue than just an attack on the East coast.”

  “God help us,” Hawk muttered. “Is there anything else? Any atomic plumes rising over parts of the country I should be aware of?”

  Alina chuckled.

  “Not yet,” she said. “Hey, you're the one who took yourself halfway around the world. It's not my fault you're missing all the fun.”

  “If I had a choice, I wouldn't have gone,” he retorted. “You know that. Especially after...”

  Alina raised an eyebrow when he stopped abruptly.

  “Especially after what?” she asked softly.

  “Nothing.”

  Her lips twitched, but she let the matter drop.

  “Any idea when you're heading back?” she asked instead.

  “Hopefully, I'll be back to you by tomorrow night your time, at the latest.”

  “Good,” she murmured, flexing her injured arm.

  “Are you alright?” Damon asked, catching the note of relief in her voice.

  “I'm fine.”

  Alina swung her legs out of bed and stood up.

  “Hmm,” he sounded unconvinced. “Do me a favor? Try to keep out of trouble until I get back?”

  Alina glanced down at the seeping bandage on her arm and her lips twisted.

  “I'll do my best,” she murmured dryly.

  Alina had just finished taping down clean bandages on her arm when her text message alert went off on her phone. She picked up the phone and swiped the screen. The message was from Stephanie. Alina sighed, reading quickly. She was on her way and bringing breakfast. Setting the phone down on the vanity again, Alina reached for a fresh roll of stretchy gauge bandage. The mention of breakfast reminded her that she was starving and her stomach rumbled in reaction. While Stephanie was probably coming to confirm that John was gone, at least she was bringing food. Thank God for small favors.

  Alina carefully wrapped the bandage around her arm, covering the two taped gauze bandages protecting the bullet holes. When she unwrapped the seeping bandage before her shower, Alina found the wounds were beginning to close. The hot water from the shower caused some discomfort and bleeding, but that was over now and new bandages applied. Once her arm was securely re-wrapped, she rotated it and moved it in large, circular motions to loosen the stiffness in her bicep. It hurt, but Viper would deal with the inconvenience of pain in exchange for full mobility.

  She had just come downstairs and was walking down the hall, toward the back of the house, when Stephanie knocked on the sliding doors to the deck. She held a brown paper bag in her hand and large sunglasses covered most of her face. Alina went over to unlock the door, sliding it open.

  “Morning,” she greeted, stepping aside so Stephanie could come in.

  “You got my text?” Stephanie asked, stepping into the house.

  Alina nodded and slid the door closed behind her old friend.

  “I just got out of the shower,” she said, turning to go toward the kitchen. “Coffee?”

  “Please.” Stephanie followed her and set the brown bag on the bar. “You just got up? It's almost nine!”

  “I got in late,” Alina murmured, heading for the coffee maker. She hit the power button, then turned to look at Stephanie across the kitchen as the machine warmed up. “What did you bring?”

  “Sausage, egg, and cheese bagels,” Stephanie replied.

  Alina's stomach rumbled again and she opened a cabinet to get two plates. She walked over to set them down on the bar and glanced at Stephanie's sunglasses. She still hadn't removed them.

  “Well, it's much appreciated,” she told her, turning back to the coffee maker. “I haven't eaten since lunch yesterday.”

  “What happened to your arm?” Stephanie demanded, watching as Alina placed a mug under the spout of the coffee maker.

  Alina glanced down at the bandage, visible beneath the sleeve of her t-shirt.

  “You don't want to know,” she answered shortly, hitting the brew button. The coffee maker came alive and began grinding beans.

  “Is it bad?” Stephanie persisted. “Do you need to go to the hospital?”

  “It's just a scratch,” Alina replied, amused.

  Stephanie looked at the bandage doubtfully.

  “The last time you said that, you'd been shot,” she muttered. “Where were you?”

  “I had to go see someone,” Alina said vaguely. The grinding stopped and coffee started to brew into the mug. “I thought you were meeting Blake for breakfast?” She changed the subject, trying to draw Stephanie's attention away from her.

  “He called to move it to lunch,” Stephanie said, opening the bag and pulling out a thick, aluminum-wrapped sandwich. “He went to see Michael last night and they ended up working late.”

  “On what?”

  Alina carried the coffee over to set it in front of Stephanie. She shot her friend a sharp look from under her lashes. Did Stephanie know what they found?

  “Something Michael's been working on. Blake said he'd fill me in when he got up here,” she replied, pulling the second sandwich out of the bag. She put them on the plates and pushed the bag out of the way. “I guess he didn't get home much before dawn.”

  Alina nodded and turned to get milk out of the fridge for Stephanie. While Alina drank her espresso black, Stephanie watered it down with milk and sugar. She set the milk down on the bar and turned back to the machine to make her own coffee.

  “Did you give your basement gnome the lab coat?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder.

  Stephanie was busy unwrapping one of the sandwiches but at that, she looked up.

  “Yes. He said he'd work on it today.”

  “I appreciate that,” Alina said, turning back to the coffee maker.

  “Lina...” Stephanie started, then stopped.

  Alina suppressed a sigh and watched as coffee brewed into her mug. Once it was finished, she picked up the mug and took a fortifying sip of the hot, strong coffee.

  “Lina...” Stephanie began again, but her voice faltered as Alina turned to face her. “I...” she cleared her throat, “John's dead. He died yesterday.”

  Alina walked slowly over to the bar.

  “I know.”

  Stephanie nodded, staring down at her bagel sandwich.

  “I thought you might,” she murmured. “How?”

  “I was there,” Alina replied, sliding onto the stool next to her and setting her coffee down. “I went to see him. He was in cardiac arrest when I got there.”

  Stephanie nodded again and finally took off her sunglasses, revealing red and swollen eyes.

  “I found out not long after you left yesterday,” she said, reaching for her coffee. “I...I just can't believe it. He was getting better!”

  “What do the doctors think?” Alina asked, unwrapping the sandwich in front of her.

  “They're not sure,” Stephanie answered. “They think his heart just couldn't take the trauma.”

  Alina finished unwrapping her sandwich and glanced at Stephanie. She was staring at her sandwich, her bottom lip quivering.

  “It was quick,” she said gently. “He wouldn't have had any idea it was happening.”

  Stephanie nodded, her eyes welling with tears.

  “That's what...his doctor said,” she stammered. “I just...I just don't understand how he could be getting better one day, a
nd be dead the next.”

  Alina bit into her bagel, not knowing what to say. She certainly wasn't going to tell Stephanie the truth, that a nameless stranger injected her partner with potassium chloride, inducing a fatal heart attack. For right now, it was better for her to believe John died from natural causes. There would be time enough later to tell her the truth.

  “I don't know,” she said after she swallowed. “I can't answer that.”

  “Aren't you even a little bit upset?” Stephanie asked, wiping the tears away and picking up her sandwich.

  Alina blinked. A little bit? No. She was way more than just a little bit upset. She was bloody furious, but again, she couldn't tell Stephanie that without telling her why.

  “I don't cry like you do, Steph,” she said instead. “You know that.”

  “You've been expecting this all along, haven't you?” Stephanie asked after a minute of silence. “You never thought he would pull through.”

  “I was being realistic,” Viper replied, her mask sliding into place. “The odds were never in his favor.”

  “That's it?” Stephanie demanded incredulously, turning to face her. “That's all you have to say? The odds weren't in his favor?”

  Viper shrugged.

  “What do you want me to say?” she countered. “Nothing will bring him back. Of course I'm upset! Whether I like it or not, when I came back here last year, all of you became part of my life again. You're my family. John was family. I just wish I...”

  She stopped abruptly and Stephanie raised her eyebrows.

  “What?” she prompted.

  “I wish I'd told him,” Alina admitted. “He died thinking that I didn't care anymore.”

  Stephanie stared at her, surprised by this rare glimpse into her friend's emotions.

  “I don't think he thought that,” she said slowly after a moment. “I don't think he knew how to deal with the...person...you've become, but I think he realized you care for all of us. If you didn't, you wouldn't have come back after Washington. He knew that.”

  Alina glanced at her and, in the brief second that their eyes met, Stephanie's grief was reflected in her own. Alina's breath caught and her throat suddenly hurt with the effort of holding back her emotions. Then, in an instant, the feeling was pushed aside and Viper's mask slid into place.

  “I hope so,” she murmured, picking up her bagel again, the moment gone.

  Stephanie sighed and bit into her own sandwich.

  “What did you find on his laptop?” she asked after they had been eating in silence for a few moments.

  “Nothing to help you with the drivers,” Alina answered evasively.

  Stephanie shot her a sharp look.

  “But you found something,” she stated, rather than asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Do you know who planted the bomb on his car?” Stephanie demanded when no more information was forthcoming.

  Alina glanced at her, then shook her head slowly.

  “Not conclusively,” she said. “There was nothing on there about Dutch, the drivers or the Cartel.”

  “That's it, then. I'm still no closer to knowing what he was on to, and now he's gone.” Stephanie finished her bagel and pushed the empty plate away in frustration. “It was all just a waste of time.”

  “Never say never,” Viper murmured. “Someone planted that bomb and they did it for a reason. Things like that don't stay hidden forever.”

  “They do when the only person who knows what happened is dead,” Stephanie retorted.

  Alina finished her breakfast and reached for her coffee, her mind going to her brother.

  “Not always,” she murmured almost to herself. “Eventually, it comes out.”

  “Then let's hope it comes out sooner rather than later.”

  Alina glanced at her.

  “You seem very calm, all things considered,” she said thoughtfully.

  “I took half an Ativan,” Stephanie confessed. “I had to do something. I was a basket case last night. Rob wanted me to go stay with him and his wife.”

  “Did you?”

  “No.” Stephanie finished her coffee and got up to make some more. “Which button do I push?”

  “Top one on the right,” Alina replied, watching as Stephanie put her mug under the spout and pressed the indicated button. “What will you do for the next few days?” she asked suddenly. “I don't think you should be alone.”

  Stephanie turned around and looked at her.

  “I don't know,” she said. “I haven't thought about it. I'm meeting Blake today and that's as far ahead as I've considered.”

  “Maybe you should stay here,” Alina said slowly. “Only for a few days, until the shock wears off.”

  “I'll be fine,” Stephanie assured her. “I have more drugs at home.”

  Alina was surprised into a short laugh.

  “That's not what I meant,” she murmured, “but the offer is there if you change your mind.”

  Stephanie pulled her mug out from under the spout and came back to her seat, reaching for the milk.

  “I appreciate that.”

  Alina sipped her coffee while Stephanie mixed milk and sugar into hers, her mind moving to the bombs they had to find. She glanced at Stephanie thoughtfully.

  “What?” Stephanie asked, catching the look.

  “I'm trying to decide how much you can handle right now,” she answered truthfully.

  Stephanie raised an eyebrow.

  “Depends on what you want to tell me,” she replied. “If it will get my mind off the fact that I just lost my partner, go for it.”

  “I have more information about the other bombs,” Viper told her. “Are you up for it?”

  “Is that where you were last night?” Stephanie asked.

  “Yes.” Alina finished her coffee and set the mug down. “We need to find out where the drivers concentrated the parts so we can find them.”

  “Agreed, but how are we going to do that?” Stephanie demanded.

  “I have the GPS from Dutch's Shelby,” Alina told her. “I've made a list of everywhere he went in the month before his death. You and Blake can start with that.”

  Stephanie stared at her.

  “You have a GPS from one of the drivers and didn't tell me?”

  Viper shrugged.

  “I needed it to find what he stole from Dominic,” she replied.

  “And you found it,” Stephanie finished for her. “You know, Lina, you're lucky I'm drugged up right now. What was it?”

  “A trigger,” Viper told her. “A chemical trigger.”

  Stephanie stared at her, her annoyance forgotten.

  “A.....a.....did you say chemical trigger?” she stammered.

  “Yes.”

  “You mean to tell me that these bombs we're looking for are designed to release a chemical weapon?!”

  “Actually, it’s a biological weapon, and I thought so, yes. Now I'm not sure,” Alina said. “We need to find them ASAP. I want to know what, exactly, they're going to release into the air.”

  “Oh, you think?!” Stephanie exploded despite the calming effect of the Ativan. “What kind of biological weapon are we talking about?”

  “Actually, I'm starting to think it’s something completely harmless,” Viper replied. “The trigger I recovered has two separate chemicals, which presumably lead to detonation when mixed. Right now, they're being analyzed by my Organization. I think they'll find it's just a straight trigger.”

  “Then why use chemicals?” Stephanie asked, her brows furrowed. “Why not use a timer like every other bomber?”

  “I think the chemical reaction will release something,” Viper explained.

  “And you think it will be harmless?” Stephanie was struggling to follow. “Why would they want to release a harmless substance into the air with a shrapnel bomb? I don't understand.”

  “Say a bomb goes off in Times Square, and something gets released into the air that makes people think they might have been exposed to,
say, Anthrax. What would they do?”

  “Panic,” Stephanie answered immediately, “and go to the hospital to be treated.”

  “Exactly,” Viper said grimly.

  Stephanie stared at her hard.

  “You know something else,” she stated. “What?”

  “There's an antidote for Anthrax that's been stocked by all Washington metro hospitals recently,” Alina said quietly. “Last night, I went to see a biochemical engineer who's been testing that antidote.”

  Stephanie's brows came together in apprehension.

  “And?”

  “The antidote is the weapon,” Viper told her. “The bombs are simply the means to get the people to it.”

  Stephanie sucked in her breath and lifted her coffee mug, trying to absorb it all.

  “Are you sure?” she finally asked after a long moment of silence had passed.

  “Relatively. I won't be positive until we find at least one of the bombs, loaded and primed.”

  “For the love of....” Stephanie dropped her head into her hands. “Why is nothing ever easy with you?”

  “I need you and Blake to find those bombs,” Viper said.

  “What are you going to do while we do that?”

  Stephanie raised her head and glanced at Alina. She shivered at the look in her eyes.

  “Find the bastard who planned it.”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Michael rubbed his face and stood up, picking up his empty coffee mug. He had been staring at his laptop for the better part of two hours and was beginning to feel cross-eyed. He turned to leave his dining room-come office, heading towards the kitchen for a refill.

  It was well after three in the morning before he returned home after their gruesome discovery last night. He and Blake managed to get quite a few pictures of the scene upstairs, and the living room and kitchen downstairs before the cavalry arrived in the form of local law enforcement. The officer in charge took one look at the body, another look at the pristine house, and pronounced it an obvious suicide. He was deaf to Michael's assertion that Patrick was not suicidal the last time he saw him. As far as he was concerned, the facts spoke for themselves. Michael and Blake left as soon as they were able, and Michael spent the drive home fuming at the stupidity of the local LEOs.

 

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