The Controller

by Matt Brolly

  Sally was incredulous. ‘Some fucking burners? We’re not in an episode of the Wire. I’ve got work today for heaven’s sake.’

  ‘Please, Sally.’

  Lynch heard a muffled conversation between Sally and Rob and hoped her new man would help her see sense. ‘You win, Sam. You always fucking win. We’re leaving now. I want this over though or I’m going to the police.’

  It was an idle threat as Lynch knew deep down that part of her did trust him in these matters. ‘Whatever you do, Sally, do not mention this to anyone. Especially the police. That is how they will find you.’

  ‘Fine.’

  Lynch sighed. ‘Thank you, Sally,’ he said. ‘Sorry,’ he added, hanging up before she could respond.

  12

  Rose heard Lynch depart. She’d kept her eyes shut, in the end deciding she had no right to stop him leaving.

  The seduction had been her choice. He’d been a reluctant participant at first, which she’d found charming, and there had been a tenderness to him she hadn’t expected. Afterwards, they lay together in a companionable silence until they’d both drifted off to sleep despite the incidents of the previous day. She should have made him stay, should probably have held him under arrest but she’d chosen to let him go hoping that at some point he would trust her and let her in on whatever he had planned.

  She ran the shower and filled the coffee machine as she waited for the heat to reach the streams of water. Exhaustion crept over her. It had been the first real sleep, save for a couple of stolen minutes, she’d managed since the Gregor Razinski incident, and she felt the full force of that exertion in every inch of her body. She took the coffee into the shower and washed the previous night off her skin.

  Time was precious and she regretted taking the luxury of sleeping for so long. She needed to make contact with her superiors but first needed to work out who could be trusted. The incidents at the compound were still fresh in her mind, yet the scene she’d left at the Gunn house was most prominent in her memory. It wasn’t the gore so much - she’d encountered her fair share of dead bodies in her years at the Bureau - as the layout of the bodies; the coldness of the way Razinski made the children watch their father die before killing them. During training one of her tutors, a serial killer profiler, had stated he’d rarely encountered true evil in his years of investigating. His suggestion was purely clinical and he’d been at pains to point out that he wasn’t defending the actions of the killers. The vast majority of serial killers were past victims of extreme abuse in their childhood years. It was no excuse but went some way to explaining their behavior. However, Rose felt sure she’d encountered something different at the Gunn house and her further interactions with Razinski only confirmed her suspicions that she’d come face to face with pure evil.

  The attack at the compound had been militaristic in its precision. The dead agents were the FBI’s elite and whoever was responsible had breezed through them without trouble. She agreed with Lynch that there had to be an insider, and the fact that Balfour had escaped pointed to him as a chief suspect.

  The question now was did they know that she’d escaped with Lynch? It was possible Balfour was at large spreading lies about what went down at the compound. And then there was the conundrum of the Railroad. Lynch made a compelling argument for the existence of the group, and despite what she’d read about his obsessiveness following his son’s disappearance it was something she could no longer dismiss.

  She changed and ate as much as she could force down for breakfast, not knowing when she would next eat. She packed up her EVAC bag and was about to lock up when she heard a noise from outside.

  Rose fell to the ground, reaching for her gun. They’d been very careful on the journey here and she would be staggered if anyone had followed her. She played through the idea of tracking devices on the van and concluded that was the most logical explanation.

  She lay on the ground, feeling the controlled rhythm of her heart reverberating against the floor when there was a knock at the door. Rose held the gun in front of her, remembering to take shallow breaths. It was possible Lynch had returned but she needed to hear a voice before responding to anything.

  A second knock on the door, five long beats followed by two short taps, a familiar weight behind the sound. ‘Sandra, you in there?’

  Rose held her breath, a wave of relief coming over her. Aside from family members, only one person ever called her by her first name. The voice came from her partner, Special Agent Dylan Stillman. Dylan had been on annual leave during her time at the Gunn house. She checked the date on her watch. He’d been due back today.

  ‘Sandra, open up it’s me.’

  Rose kept low. Dylan was the only person who knew about her safe house. He was the closest she came to fully trusting someone in the Bureau but that didn’t mean he’d come alone. But alone or not, she had to answer the door. She lifted herself up to her knees and glanced through a gap in the binds but all she could see was the drooping branches of an acacia tree.

  ‘You alone?’ said Rose.

  ‘Sandra, thank God. Jesus Christ, what have you got yourself into?’ It was a relief hearing Dylan’s baritone, the hint of humor in nearly everything he said.

  ‘Are you alone?’ she repeated, creeping to the door.

  ‘I’m alone, Agent Rose, but there is a team stationed about five miles away. I’m afraid your safe house has served its purpose.’

  ‘Bastard,’ she said, opening the door.

  Special Agent Dylan Stillman looked momentarily alarmed as he noticed the gun in Rose’s hand. He was about the same height as Lynch but bulkier. His most prominent feature was his chin. It was elongated, wide and granite-hard. ‘I’m afraid I didn’t bring you anything,’ he said.

  Rose smiled. ‘I guess you better come in.’

  ‘You’ve done the place up,’ said Stillman, moving through the interior of the trailer, a huge grin on his face.

  ‘Shut up, Dylan,’ said Rose, unable to hide her smile. She was surprised at the visceral feeling she felt at seeing him again and wondered if the few days had taken a heavier toll than she’d imagined.

  ‘Coffee?’

  Stillman took a look at the coffee machine and grimaced. ‘I’m fine. Care to tell me what the hell is going on before I call it in?’

  Rose sat and ran her hands through her hair. She always wore it tied back at work and she searched for a band before telling Stillman what had happened. She explained everything: from the multiple murders at the Gunn house, through to the siege at the compound, and Balfour’s disappearance, omitting only the fact that Lynch had stayed the night with her. She explained that they’d gone separate ways after escaping the compound.

  Stillman whistled. ‘Jeeesus, I sure pick the wrong time to go on vacation.’

  Rose stood, and began packing. ‘I’m going to need you to hide this,’ she said, handing Stillman her EVAC pack.

  ‘The weapons all accounted for?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘Okay, I’m going to call this in now.’

  Rose placed her hand on Stillman’s forearm. ‘What’s the general feeling, Dylan?’

  ‘No one thinks you’ve gone rogue, if that’s what you’re thinking.’

  ‘Balfour? Lynch?’

  Stillman nodded. ‘Balfour is not accounted for. The sensible money is that Lynch is behind this.’

  Rose sighed, regretting letting Lynch go and lying to her partner. ‘I’ll tell you now that I don’t think he had anything to do with this. He was with me the whole time at the compound and helped me escape. There was no way he could have led anyone to that place.’

  Stillman shrugged. ‘Let’s get going.’

  Rose turned everything off, and locked up. As she stepped off the concrete porch towards the van, two vehicles roared up the dirt track towards her. She turned to Stillman whose face softened. ‘Sorry, Sandra,’ he said as a team of SWAT officers left their vans. ‘We had to make sure you were safe.’

  13

/>   Diesel and exhaust fumes mingled with the smell of wild flowers. Sandra Rose stood rooted, staring at Stillman with accusation.

  ‘It’s just procedure, Sandra. What was I supposed to do? You were seen on CCTV at a garage off the I-37. They would find have found this place sooner or later. Tell them what you told me and you’ll be fine.’

  Rose shook her head. ‘Fuck you, Dylan.’

  Stillman ran his hand across his over-large jawline, up his face, and through his hair. ‘Jesus,’ he said, moving away as two suited men walked towards her.

  ‘Special Agent Sandra Rose, come with us please,’ said the first of the men, a short stocky figure with a prominent patch of hairless scalp on the back of his head. The man was wearing shades and looked like the archetypal FBI agent portrayed in film and television.

  ‘You are?’ said Rose, not moving from her spot.

  ‘Special Agent McBride, and my colleague Special Agent O’Callaghan.’

  ‘The Irish contingent,’ said Rose.

  ‘We haven’t heard that one before. Now, if you don’t mind.’

  ‘Where am I going?’

  McBride sighed. ‘Headquarters in San Antonio. Now, please get in.’

  Rose positioned her hands in the air as he went to grab her. ‘I wouldn’t,’ she warned, walking towards the car. She positioned herself in the back seat and was surprised when McBride and O’Callaghan sat in the front.

  She caught a glimpse of Dylan as they moved down the dirt track. He lifted his hands in the air in mock surrender, his face lined with guilt. He wouldn’t have been able to see her response through the darkened windows of the car and she was pleased he would be carrying the guilt around with him. Not that she could blame him. He’d claimed he’d been making sure she was safe, and though she doubted that was the full reason he’d guided the Bureau to her safe house she imagined his heart was in the right place.

  She played memory games as they made the journey in silence. She realized they hadn’t patted her down and she still carried her Bureau firearm, as well as the burn phone she’d purchased with Lynch. She recounted his number in her head until it was fixed. She wondered where he was now, and what Razinski’s last words had been to him.

  Three hours later they pulled into the underground car-park at the FBI headquarters in San Antonio. Rose noticed a higher security presence than was usual. McBride’s car was checked for explosives and she was patted down by one of the security personnel. ‘Apologies, Ma’am, new protocols,’ said the guard, relieving her of her firearm.

  Rose nodded, wondering how effective such protocols would be should there be another attack. Rose worked out of the Laredo field office, but had worked at headquarters in the past so was used to the winding corridors McBride and O’Callaghan led her down. She was less familiar with the secure elevator that opened into a deserted bullpen where lines of desks and chairs collected dust. McBride nodded to her and she stepped out of the elevator as the door shut on the two operatives.

  Rose walked across the vacant office checking the walls and ceilings for security cameras. To her left, a door slid open and a woman’s head popped through. ‘Special Agent Rose through here,’ said the woman, disappearing within.

  Rose moved towards the door, feeling incomplete without a firearm. The woman was waiting for her behind the opening. ‘Sandra Rose, I’m Assistant Agent in Charge, Janice Roberts. This is Senior Agent in Charge, Dwayne,’ she said, pointing to a man sitting behind a large oak paneled desk.

  Rose knew both agents and their titles.

  The SAC, Miller, smiled. ‘We’ve met before,’ he said, getting to his feet. ‘Under more salubrious circumstances. Special Agent Rose, please take a seat.’

  Rose did as asked, Roberts closing the door of the office. She glanced around the room which aside from the gigantic desk was devoid of features. It was only the three of them.

  Miller picked up a file from the desk, studying it through his steel rimmed glasses. ‘You’ve been doing well, Rose,’ he said, glancing at the document. ‘Quite a little career you had going for yourself.’

  ‘Had, sir?’

  Miller broke into a smile. ‘Semantics, Rose. Apologies. However.’

  ‘However,’ repeated Janice Roberts, taking a seat next to her. ‘We would be very interested to know what the hell happened at the compound. You see, we’ve recovered forty-one personnel from the compound. Forty-one members of this organization. Your organization, Special Agent Rose.’

  ‘Plus the body of the one prisoner,’ added Miller, smiling as he savored the role of good cop.

  ‘Yes, and the body of Gregor Razinski,’ said Roberts.

  ‘In fact, the only bodies we didn’t find were yours, thankfully, and those of Samuel Lynch and Special Agent Balfour.’ The smile disappeared from Miller’s face. ‘Now would you like to tell me what in the goddamned hell went down, Rose?’

  Rose glanced at each of her superior officers in turn, wondering if they wanted the truth or a scapegoat. The pair of them were career officers. Like Balfour, she imagined it had been a long time since either of them had experienced the day-to-day activities of a field agent. Yet, she wasn’t hardened enough to doubt their concern over the tragic losses at the compound. Nor could she blame them for questioning her with such directness, despite the implied accusations. She explained everything from the Gunn house onwards, repeating the story she’d told Dylan back at the safe house. Her only omissions were the fight between Lynch and Balfour, and Lynch accompanying her to the safe house.

  ‘Where did you get the gas masks?’ asked Roberts, brushing a loose strand of grey hair from her wrinkled face.

  ‘Two of Balfour’s guards explained where they were stored.’

  ‘What happened to them?’

  ‘They both wore masks but were shot,’ said Rose.

  Miller searched through the second file on his desk, and nodded to Roberts.

  ‘At any point did you suspect Lynch?’

  Rose shook her head. ‘I keep playing everything back but I can’t see it. It was his idea to leave the office and to speak to Razinski. He helped me escape. If he was part of the breakout then surely it would have been easier to have eliminated me.’

  ‘Did he have that opportunity?’ asked Roberts.

  ‘I gave him a firearm.’

  Roberts’ eyes widened but she didn’t comment.

  ‘He could have shot me at anytime. I had my back to him when he was speaking to Razinski,’ said Rose.

  Miller rubbed his chin. ‘What do you know about the work Lynch was engaged in before leaving the Bureau?’

  ‘Nothing until the last couple of days. I’d heard of the Railroad before.’

  ‘You commented on the scar tattoos on Razinski’s back?’ asked the SAC.

  ‘Yes. The tracks are an open urban legend within the Bureau. I’d never paid it much heed before.’

  ‘And now?’ said Miller.

  ‘Someone came for Razinski. Whoever they were, they were highly effective. Lynch clammed up when I spoke to him. I know about his son of course. During our interrogation, Razinski kept stating that Lynch’s son was still alive. Naturally, Lynch didn’t respond too well to that suggestion.’

  Miller exchanged a look with Roberts. Rose wondered if Lynch knew either of the pair, if they’d been responsible in any way for his departure from the Bureau.

  ‘How do you think security was breached at the compound?’ asked Roberts.

  Rose considered how best to respond. She pictured the fallen guards at various checkpoints, the expediency and unexpectedness of the attack, and could come to only one conclusion. ‘It’s difficult to see beyond a leak from within.’

  Roberts stared at her stony-faced. ‘All communication is monitored from within that compound, Rose.’

  Rose shrugged. ‘I imagine if they are organized enough to stage such an attack, that communication would not be much of an issue for them.’

  ‘Did you see anything suspicious. Anyone we should be loo
king closer at?’

  Rose thought back to Balfour and kept silent.

  Miller hesitated as if he knew what she was thinking. He surprised her by changing tact. ‘Where is Samuel Lynch now?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Rose, pleased she didn’t have to lie. ‘We split up.’

  ‘Split up?’ said Roberts.

  Rose repeated the lie that they parted ways after exiting the compound.

  ‘Why haven’t you contacted us?’ asked Roberts.

  ‘I needed some time to think. After what had happened at the compound, my initial thought was that we must have a leak within the Bureau. I didn’t want to risk communication. Thankfully, my hand was forced.’

  ‘Lynch mention where he was going?’

  Rose recalled him speaking to Razinski before they left the compound. Lynch insisted that the man hadn’t divulged any information but she wasn't convinced. ‘He didn’t say. As I mentioned, Razinski had taunted him that his son was alive. If I was to hazard a guess, I would imagine he is following up on that. Have you located him?’

  Miller shook his head. ‘What happened to Balfour?’

  A picture of Lynch tussling with Balfour flashed in Rose’s mind. She considered the best way to answer. For all she knew, Balfour had returned and explained exactly what had happened. ‘The last I saw of him was in the compound safety room.’

  ‘Did you check on him before leaving?’

  ‘We checked on Razinski before fleeing. We went back to the room where we’d last seen Balfour but no one was there.’

  Miller was about to question her further when a figure appeared in the doorway of the office. Rose hadn’t heard the man approach, and tried to hide her surprise at seeing the stocky figure of McBride filling the gap of the doorframe.

  ‘There’s been a development,’ said the agent.

  Roberts glanced at Miller who nodded. ‘Go on, McBride,’ she said.

  ‘We’ve found two more bodies. We believe they belong to Gregor Razinski’s Father and daughter.’