by D. L. Line
“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” Terri asked in as low a whisper as she could muster.
“No, I’m all right. He got Faith to call me, and—”
“Tell me all about it later. Right now, we need to get you out of here. He’s not going to be gone long.”
Denny nodded as Terri pulled her from the chair and urged her down low to the ground, stopping her as Denny tried to reach for her backpack.
“Just leave it. We can get it later,” Terri ordered over her shoulder as Denny slid in behind her. She made a quick survey of the area to make sure that the tall guy with the gun was still at the other end of the building. Satisfied that he was occupied long enough to get out of the office, Terri snuck low out the door and over to the shadow at the base of the closest stack of crates, pulling Denny along by the sleeve of her sweatshirt.
Terri was getting more and more nervous as she came to realize that she now had absolutely no idea of the whereabouts of the guy with the gun, but she forced it down long enough to point the way toward the exit and get Denny moving in the right direction.
“Get out that door. The limo is parked around the other side of the building and Agent Kraft is out there. Go find him and tell him what’s going on in here.” Terri startled as she heard something at the other end of the building. “Go...now!” She gave Denny a rough shove toward the exit and turned to see where the noise had come from.
Terri fought the urge to give in to her fear and follow Denny out the door, but knew that if she did that, it meant that there was no going back. She’d be done, defeated by the demons, proving to everyone that she was incapable of doing the job that she had been so good at for so long. She took a deep breath, swallowed her fear, and allowed her years of training and experience to take over, as she headed back toward the source of the noise.
Scooting quietly from crate to crate, hanging low in the shadows, Terri made her way back toward the office. She assumed that the guy with the gun would return to check on Denny when he found nothing but a couple of misplaced wrenches on the floor. The fact that she was currently unaware of his location did nothing to calm her nerves. The sound of his voice carrying through the semi-darkness broke the last bit of calm that she had.
“I know you’re out there.”
Terri remained silent, hanging close to the shadow of the nearest stack of crates, fighting against the anxiety that raged through every nerve in her body and threatened to shatter her control.
“I know you’re the FBI. I bet you’re one of Bulldog’s agents. If I’m lucky, you’re Agent McKinnon, the head case that he told me all about.”
She scuttled around the corner of the crates as she heard the voice getting closer to her comfortable shadow, wondering how he knew about her. Tightening the sweaty grip on her P-228, Terri moved further around the edge of the crates as she tried to determine the big guy’s location. If she could see him, she’d have a target, but he was working the shadows just as effectively as she was. Maybe if she could just keep him talking, she could find him before he found her.
“What if I am?” she asked loudly, hoping to goad him into revealing his location.
He laughed. Too long, the smug bastard. “Then I’m in pretty good shape. Your boss told me that you can’t be trusted to take the shot.”
Damn. That maddeningly smooth voice was starting to piss her off. It was never good when the bad guys knew too much, and this guy definitely fell into that category.
Keep him talking, Terri.
“So, Mr. Whoever-you-are, you know my boss?”
“You can call me Skip. Bulldog and I were old friends.”
“Were?”
“Well, things happen sometimes.”
“Things?” Terri asked loudly as she moved, crouched low, into the shadow of another stack of crates. “What kind of things?”
“You know, Agent McKinnon. The kind of things that happen when your agents screw up and lose the person that they were supposed to be following.”
Damn. This Skip guy really did know too much. Terri realized quickly that she could use that fact to her advantage if she asked the right questions.
“So, these things you’re talking about wouldn’t happen to involve shooting an old friend in the head, would they?”
More laughter. Cocky bastard. “Please, Agent McKinnon. Don’t think that I’m that stupid.”
Well, it was worth a try. Terri crouched quietly in the shadows, contemplating her next move. She could call Bobby for help, but more cops would likely only send this guy over the edge. Since a shootout in a dark warehouse sounded like a really bad idea, she opted instead to simply keep moving and hope that he revealed himself before he found her. Besides, she could handle this. It was her job, what she was trained to do.
Terri stood up, hanging close to the crate, staying hidden in the shadows. She started to call out with another question to see if she could flush him out, but got way more than she had anticipated. As she craned her neck around the side of the crate, she noticed movement right in front of her face. She tried to duck, but it was already too late as her brain managed to process a hand clutching a gun in that second right before it made contact with her face. Stunned, she fell backward, landing hard on her back, immediately becoming aware of the metallic tang of blood in her mouth.
Not good, Terri.
Fighting against the stars swimming across her field of vision, Terri tried to take inventory. Her teeth seemed to be intact, but her lip was split open and bleeding freely. She thought about trying to sit up, but Skip’s gun pointed at her face pretty much made the decision for her. Skip towered over her as she lay on the ground.
“So, Agent McKinnon, here we are.”
Terri remained silent, hoping that whatever this guy was going to do, that he’d do it quickly. Her hand tightened and relaxed around the grip of her own weapon, but there was no way she could raise it quickly enough to get the drop on him.
“Are you going to shoot me, Agent McKinnon? That’s what you’re supposed to do, right? Shoot the bad guy.”
Terri froze. Could she do that? Could she really pull the trigger and end one more life?
“C’mon, Agent McKinnon.” He lowered the gun and spread his arms wide, offering her a clear target. “Bulldog told me that you were a head case and it sure looks to me like he was right.”
Terri lifted her gun from the floor. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t stop her hand from shaking. Voices played through her head as tried to pull it together.
I can’t put you out there with a loaded weapon in your hands... Why didn’t you call for backup? I can’t be sure that you’ll use it if the situation requires it... I’ve had to listen to all the locker room bullshit about Defective Agent McKinnon... I’m beginning to think that they were right about you.
Images joined the voices. Memories of breaking glass and blood. Nightmare images of Jen, bloodied and dead. A phantom ache in her side where the bullet had struck and broken her ribs. The taste of blood in her mouth.
After what seemed like hours spent in the horror of her own thoughts, Terri gave up and let her gun hand fall back to the floor. The overwhelming realization that she was now basically screwed and at his mercy only got worse as Skip tossed his head back and howled. If he laughed any harder he was going to split something, she thought miserably.
“I guess Bulldog was right about you, Agent McKinnon” He leveled the gun and Terri could see every detail of the square end of the small Austrian automatic pistol. “There’s really nothing you can do to stop me now, is there?”
“Guess again, asshole!”
Terri registered the sound of the unfamiliar voice just before she saw the movement behind Skip. Before he could react, Terri saw what appeared to be something in the neighborhood of about four feet of galvanized steel pipe come slicing through the air at tremendous speed, stopping with a sickening crunch when it made contact with the side of Skip’s skull. There wasn’t even time for Skip to register the impact before he was
falling to the side, making absolutely no attempt to break his own fall. Terri watched him land almost on top of her before turning her attention to the spot above her where his face used to be. She recognized the dark hair, deep brown eyes, and black leather jacket of her savior.
Faith.
Terri knew that the gape-mouthed expression on her own face completely telegraphed her surprise at what had just transpired. Faith relieved Terri of the responsibility of having to speak with her next words.
“Are you okay?”
Terri nodded as she sat up, still dumbstruck as Faith tossed the length of pipe aside, crossed her arms over her ample breasts, and waited for an answer.
“Yeah, I’m fine. What the...?”
“Assholes like him”—Faith motioned toward Skip’s unconscious form on the floor—“give all of us a bad name. I warned him not to fuck with me.”
“But you...him... what about Denny?”
“Ah, D’s a good kid. She fucked up, no thanks to me, but ol’ Skip here told her the whole story. She’ll fill you in.”
“But what about you? You hired her. Are you turning yourself in?”
Faith wrapped an arm around her belly and laughed. It was a joyous sound that almost made Terri join in, despite the surreal nature of the whole conversation.
“Um, no. I figure you owe me one for taking care of that...” Faith pointed toward Skip who was still not moving. “So I think maybe I should just walk right out of here, and we’ll call it even. How’s that work for you?”
Looking over at Skip’s motionless form, Terri dismissed it quickly to turn her full attention back toward Faith. She thought for a moment while she checked her lip, noting the smear of blood across the back of her hand. “Go, now. Hurry, before I change my mind.” Terri couldn’t believe the words had come out of her mouth, but they had, and there was no going back now.
Faith grinned and offered one last comment. “Just for future reference, the next time you go undercover, wear your sneakers. The black shoes give the cop thing away every time.” With that, Faith waved good-bye and headed toward the back door of the warehouse.
Despite her split lip, Terri quirked a smile and spoke into the sleeve of her jacket. “Bobby, suspect is down. Are the EMTs here yet?”
She could hear the near-palpable relief in his voice. “Yeah, Terri. They arrived a few minutes ago. We’re coming in.”
“Roger that, Bobby,” Terri answered as she pulled herself up off the floor by hanging onto a nearby crate. The sound of a door closing in the back was soon overwhelmed by the sounds of the EMTs, Bobby, and the rest of the force that he’d managed to muster in support. Terri turned her attention toward the back door one last time, wondering if she’d ever see Faith again. As she gingerly probed at the cut on her lip with her fingers, Terri came to the full realization that just about anything was possible.
Chapter Twenty
“Terri...he’s here!”
Stopping one last time to check her appearance in the bathroom mirror, Terri registered Jen’s announcement of Bobby’s arrival to pick her up. She frowned, noting the bruises around her mouth, stitches in her lower lip, and decided that pistol-whipped was not a great look for her. Nothing she could do about it now. She adjusted her weapon in the holster at the small of her back, pulled her jacket down and fiddled with the collar of her freshly ironed white shirt, making sure that everything was just right before heading down the steps.
“Terri...”
“I’m coming,” she called out as she pounded down the steps. “Did you fix me some—”
“Coffee,” Jen answered as she held out a stainless steel travel mug. “Just like you like it.”
Terri smiled as best she could, feeling the pull of the stitches in her lip as she accepted her coffee. “Thanks, sweetie. I’ll be home early, so if you want to do something after work—”
“Baby, I can still go with you. It’s just a faculty meeting, and I can play hooky if you need me to.”
Terri gave up trying to smile. It wasn’t working anyway. “Jen, it’s just something I have to do for work. Go to your meeting. I’ll be fine.”
“Okay,” Jen offered tentatively.
“Really, Jen,” Terri said, pleading her case, as she set her travel mug down on the table next to the front door. “I’ll be okay. I’ll have a chance to talk to Bobby, I’ll get this thing done, and I promise we’ll talk about it later.”
Terri walked slowly down the steps outside, slipping on her sunglasses as a defense against the late October sunshine. The day was mild, maybe a little chilly, the kind of day that Terri loved. Spending the day outside with a good book, wrapped in a bulky sweater as the leaves swirled and danced in the park would have been nice, but work came first today. She offered Bobby a quiet “good morning” as she pulled the car door open, sliding into the passenger seat of his Firebird as he gunned the engine and pulled away from the curb. Bobby returned her greeting quietly as she buckled her seat belt and settled in to start working on her coffee. She sputtered a little as the hot liquid hit the stitches in her lip.
“So, Terri, how’s the lip this morning?”
“Actually, Bobby, it feels like someone popped me in the mouth with the butt end of a Glock.”
Bobby laughed and continued to drive. “Speaking of the Glock, I got a call from Ballistics and they positively identified the Glock that busted you in the chops as McNally’s murder weapon. I guess that takes care of that. Not like there’s much we can do about it.”
“Why? Is there news about that Skip guy? Is he still out of it?”
“Yeah, and it looks like he’s going to stay that way for a while. Faith tagged him a good one. We still have a guard on the door in the ICU, but he’s not going anywhere, possibly ever again. Pretty significant brain damage.”
“Yeah,” Terri said, not wanting to get too far into any conversations about Faith. She still had some reservations about letting her go, but Terri knew full well that Faith had saved her life, and that usually served to make things complicated. “What about Denny? Any news from the Federal prosecutor?”
“Well, Terri, that’s an interesting situation. Since the guy she committed the crime against is the person who hired her to commit the crime, there’s really nothing to prosecute. Looks like she got lucky. It helps that she gave us the heads-up. Too bad Faith is missing.”
“Um-hum,” Terri answered quietly as she looked out the window of the car toward the office buildings lining both sides of Connecticut Avenue. “I figure she’s gone for good. I’m still not sure about letting her go like I did, but...”
“I probably would have done the same thing. The official report only says that she got away and that seems to have satisfied everyone at the office, so don’t worry about it anymore, okay?”
“Okay,” Terri answered, relieved by Bobby’s reassurance of her actions. “Anyway, Jen asked about Denny this morning. She still hasn’t heard from her and she’s concerned.”
Bobby changed lanes to get onto the bridge leading to Northern Virginia. “She’s not pissed?”
“Well, she was for a while, but we had a pretty long talk about it. It’s not Denny’s fault that I got hurt, but I don’t blame Jen for being a little pissed. She did, after all, try to tell Denny that hacking for cash was a bad idea. Oh, and the way she took off without telling anybody... I mean, everything turned out okay, but still...”
“It made a pretty huge mess for everyone, but it is a good thing that Denny found the stuff about the bioterrorism.”
“Well, that is good.” Terri wondered how many more people like Skip were out there, cooking up stuff to hurt large numbers of people. Bobby stayed silent as he drove, leaving Terri alone with her thoughts until they reached their destination. There was a lot more that she needed to say, but there were things to do first.
*
Terri stood quietly in the bright sunshine, comforted by the close proximity of Bobby to her right and Dave Stansfield to her left. Despite her sunglasses,
she lowered her head against the brightness of the light. The line of FBI agents that extended to either side of her, all decked in their best black suits, provided an odd sense of comfort. Looking around as much as she could without appearing like an undisciplined cadet, Terri noted that she wasn’t the only one this morning who had taken the extra time to polish their shoes. Sometimes, respect required that you looked your best. Despite the nasty cut and bruises that made her look like she’d taken a pistol butt to the mouth, which seemed appropriate considering that she had, Terri knew that she presented the picture of a professional law enforcement agent.
Too bad she didn’t feel like one anymore.
The sound of a voice behind her pulled Terri from her musings. “Ready...fire.”
Terri steeled herself not to jump too much at the sound as seven rifles discharged in unison. The voice repeated the orders two more times, the rifles responding each time, until they were commanded to “order arms.” She was okay, really, until the sound of a lone bugler, hidden somewhere over a rise, began to play “Taps.” That’s when she really felt like she might lose it, so she balled up her fists and willed herself not to cry. The voice of the minister in front of her provided the distraction she needed to get herself back under control.
“...as we commend the body of our friend, George Edward McNally, to the ground...ashes to ashes, dust to dust.”
Terri could only focus on the sound of the minister’s voice, not the actual words, as she looked up toward the casket poised over a cement-lined hole in the ground. It really was that simple, wasn’t it? One day you’re here, and the next day you’re not. Well, it seemed that simple until Terri caught sight of Helen McNally, seated front row center, tears streaming down her face as she accepted the American flag, neatly folded into a perfect triangle by the Marine Corps Honor Guard. The picture was that of the perfect American family, as a tall, broad-shouldered young man placed a loving hand on the back of his mother’s neck and a younger girl, somewhere around fourteen or fifteen years old, took her mother’s hand. Terri wasn’t sure if their actions were to provide or to receive comfort, but it didn’t really matter, did it? A woman had lost her husband, and two children had lost their father with one squeeze of the trigger in the hand of a nutjob with delusions of ruling the world. It was all just so...