Final Act

by Van Fleisher

  Zoe got the names of the shooter and the police officer, and the agent said that he thought the officer was here at the hospital. She asked him if he could find him for her, and she returned to the desk to see if she could see Demi.

  She was told that the doctors were almost finished with her and it should be OK in fifteen-twenty minutes. A very young-looking police officer approached her and introduced himself as Officer Barton, the one who shot and killed the shooter. He’d just finished being de-briefed by his lieutenant about the incident.

  Officer Barton had been on the force for only a few months, having returned from active military duty in Afghanistan.

  Barton explained that he had been deployed on the perimeter of the spot where the Presidential candidate would be speaking. Shortly afterward, he was alerted that a 911 call had reported an assassination threat. They were looking for a male with gray hair, wearing a red baseball hat.

  Barton went on, “This is Red Sox territory and also rural, so there are a lot of red baseball hats out there. I noticed a guy fitting that description moving toward the podium just as the Presidential candidate was approaching. He raised his arm, and I was pretty sure he was holding a gun, so I yelled, aimed, and as I did, it was clear he had a gun, so I fired. Too late, I guess, and the Secret Service agent jumped – actually flew – in front of the shooter’s bullet. That took some guts, and I sure hope she’s OK.”

  Zoe told him that Demi’s condition looked good and asked if there was anything unusual about the shooter’s mannerisms? But there wasn’t. She thought to herself, ‘Robot killers and ‘good guys’ to clean up? What next?

  Five minutes later, Zoe was given ten minutes with Demi, and she asked the nurse if she could be alone with her.

  Demi looked pale, with several tubes attached as well as an oxygen mask, and Zoe could see bandages exposed at the neck of her hospital gown. Her eyes were closed, and Zoe held her hand.

  Demi opened her eyes and flashed as winning a smile as she could through her mask and pain.

  Zoe asked, “Hi, honey. How are you feeling?”

  Demi used her free hand to raise her mask. “OK. Truthfully, pretty shitty, but I got the job done,” she added with a smile.

  Zoe smiled and said, “So I hear. One of your colleagues said it was an impressive act, but promise me you won’t do another Wonder Woman act again, or should I say, ‘Dumber Woman’? What the hell were you thinking, not wearing a vest?”

  “I was in such a hurry packing that I forgot to pack my slightly larger jacket that accommodates the vest. I promise I won’t do that again.” And they both smiled.

  Demi asked, “Why are you here?”

  To which Zoe replied, “Why do you think? I heard you’d been shot and jumped on the first flight out of D.C.”

  Tears welled up in Demi’s eyes, and Zoe used the tissues on the bedside table to soak them up. Between the mask and the emotion, Zoe could barely make out Demi’s words, “I love you.”

  “I love you, too, Wonder Woman.”

  More tears from Demi and her medication was beginning to overshadow her joy of seeing Zoe. “Get some rest,” Zoe said, “and I’ll see you in the morning.” She kissed her on her cheek before leaving.

  Zoe met her Bureau colleague in the lobby, and he gave her details of the shooter, including the fact that he was not wearing a watch, and he was using a gun without serial numbers. It was too late to call Vijay, but Zoe knew what he’d tell her. He was a Final Notice recipient who exhibited levels of anger consistent with prior Recipient shooters, who wasn’t wearing his watch. That prompted another thought: Vik Vasin.

  Zoe hadn’t had much time since her reinstatement to decide what to do about Vasin. Find him and bring him in or find and watch him? She was pretty sure he wasn’t at the top of this evil tree, but now that Vasin could circumvent the Bureau’s GPS surveillance of Recipients by removing their watches, she needed to do something to level the odds again.

  ***

  CHAPTER 21 – THE OUTING

  Highway 101, New Hampshire. Vik Vasin was feeling pretty pleased with himself for outsmarting the cops … twice. When Yuri called, warning him that the cops might be able to track the assassins by monitoring the Death Watch, Vik acted quickly to make sure the watch didn’t help the cops. And what Vik didn’t know was that by walking away from the target, he was actually reducing the alert level.

  What really made him proud, however, was his quick thinking about calling 911. It was a ‘Hail Mary’ move, but it worked. Sure, it was a cop or Secret Service agent that got hit, but his Zombie got taken out, and the main objective was to sow fear and division. He’d accomplished that. The network news was already awash with the shooting, and the political finger-pointing and blaming were not far behind.

  As he drove, Vik wondered how Yuri knew about the cops being able to track his Zombies. But at least now he knew how to handle it. Still, he thought to himself, there were hundreds or thousands of people who get their Notices. How could the cops cover all of them? Alek would know, but he didn’t want to talk with him again. And oddly, he knew that the reason was that he didn’t want to have to hurt Alek. They had been friends as kids, and Alek was always nice to him, even if later, some of Alek’s friends looked down at him. And then there was the thing about having his wife and kid killed. That bothered Vik, and he didn’t even have a wife or kid.

  He switched his thoughts to tomorrow. Yuri wanted him to train three other handlers, and he wasn’t happy about sharing the glory. His modus operandi, as the cops would say, was a source of pride for Vik, and his successes were a way to keep in the spotlight and good graces of Yuri. At the same time, he had a feeling that if any of these guys screwed up, he’d be in the line of fire as well.

  He also wasn’t happy about spending time at a remote cabin in the New Hampshire woods with three guys he didn’t know, with strict instructions that there was to be no alcohol and no women. Plus, he didn’t like driving the jeep he’d been given to use, in case of rain, which would make the country roads difficult.

  Vik was a creature of habit, and he was in the habit of drinking, womanizing, and driving Cadillacs.

  ***

  Elliot Hospital, Manchester, New Hampshire. The next morning Zoe waited while the clinical staff cared for Demi. She hadn’t been able to sleep well as she mulled over plans, actions, and the other side’s new tactic of removing the VT2. They seemed always to be a step ahead. And that pushed her thinking into an uncomfortable zone – Demi.

  She quickly reset her train of thought and decided on aggressive action on several fronts. She immediately put in motion plans to bring in Lev Panova, the “good guy” in one of the Italian shootings, for questioning. She put out a warrant for the arrest of Vik Vasin on suspicion of being an accomplice to the murder of Louis Vinzano and Frank DiVinci. And she requested a search warrant to look at the IT systems at VitalTech, based on Alek Belikov’s information that the code was being written from within VitalTech itself.

  What she needed was enough evidence to squeeze Vasin for information. Who was he working for? Perhaps Panova could be used.

  If Alek was right, someone at VitalTech was feeding information to the outside, to help someone or a group find and track Final Notice recipients. Was it an individual? And who was directing them?

  A nurse interrupted Zoe from her thoughts and told her that she could see Demi. The nurse laughed and said that she was making an amazing recovery and was asking when she could return to work. Zoe smiled as she thought to herself, “Wonder Woman.”

  Demi was still attached to tubes and monitors, but she looked much better than last night. She was awake, and a big smile lit up her face as she saw Zoe walk in.

  Zoe started to speak, but Demi cut her off. “If you call me Wonder Woman again, I’ll need to stand up and swirl around three times, completely screwing up all these wires and tubes.”

  It was Zoe’s turn to smile, “OK, but you look great, even without your cape.”

  �
�The docs say that the shot missed anything important, so it’s simply making sure there’s no infection. I’m trying to see when I can get out of here and back to work.”

  “So, you enjoy jumping in front of bullets?”

  Demi smiled, “Enjoy is maybe a little over the top, but I actually did something. I’ve been pushing paper around and never knew if it meant anything. This was real. I saved someone else from being shot or worse.”

  “Sweetheart, I’m proud of you, but give yourself some rest and us a little time to get our Final Notice system working again.”

  “Yeah, what happened, anyway?”

  Zoe told Demi that the shooter had been identified by his VT2, but he removed it to avoid further tracking. Zoe also explained about the cop getting a 911 call from someone, probably the guy managing the shooter, so that the shooter would be killed and silenced.

  Demi asked, “Who are they?”

  “We’re pretty sure we’ve identified the guy who’s been managing the shooters, but I don’t think he’s anywhere near the top of the tree. Also, there seems to be a lot of Russians popping up.” Zoe’s internal alarm system brought back the uncomfortable thoughts about Demi, so she quickly shifted gears before she divulged any more information. “Have the doctors said when you can be discharged?”

  “Not sure, but soon, I think. Not today, but maybe tomorrow. And they want me to take it easy for a few days.”

  Zoe contemplated a Wonder Woman reply but restrained herself and smiled.

  Demi continued, “My boss told me to stay home until next week,” prompting Zoe to think that Hawke would probably be as unsympathetic.

  Zoe replied, “OK. First, let’s see when they’ll release you. In the meantime, I’m going to the Boston Bureau office today. There’s something I need to do, and then I’ll stop back here this evening and, hopefully, book a flight for us if they’ve given you a release date yet. How’s that?”

  “Thanks. That sounds great. By the way, dinner here is at six. You can join me.”

  Zoe made a face and grimaced, “Ahh, that’s OK. Hospital food doesn’t agree with me.”

  They both laughed as Zoe gave her a hug and kiss. “See you later!”

  ***

  Zoe called the Boston office and asked them to find Panova and bring him in for more questions, today if possible. About a half-hour later, as she was en route to Boston, she got a call saying that they found Panova, and he was an hour out. They also had a surprise for her.

  ***

  FBI Field Office, Boston, Massachusetts. Zoe arrived before Panova and asked for her surprise immediately, hoping it was a good one.

  The agent smiled and handed her a grainy picture of two men. “Compliments of the Hyde Park police.”

  Zoe recognized Vasin immediately and asked who the other guy was.

  “Lev Panova,” replied the beaming agent.

  Zoe called her office to check on Vasin. He hadn’t been found yet, but they found a car registered to him at the Manchester Airport long term parking lot. So far, they hadn’t traced him to any inbound or outbound flights in the last couple of days, nor had they had any matches captured by airport security cameras.

  She asked about the VitalTech search warrant and learned it was still being processed; then she checked with the Des Moines field office to see if anyone had recognized Vasin, or if a security camera had caught him. Negative on both.

  Zoe and her Boston colleagues discussed a plan for questioning Panova, and Zoe asked how someone with a criminal past, even though fairly minor, was able to get a carry permit. Her colleagues shrugged their shoulders and explained that any police chief could grant one, so inconsistencies were commonplace.

  The agents brought Panova into the conference room used for interrogation. They read him his rights again, told him that the interview would be recorded, and introduced Zoe as the Supervisory Agent from Washington. Panova was unimpressed and repeated what he’d been telling the agents for the past hour. He knows nothing more than he explained when the shooting took place.

  Zoe was polite, respectful, and apologetic as she asked him to describe what happened, for her benefit. Panova sighed dramatically, but he began to recount the event.

  Zoe interrupted him early on, “Excuse me. Why did you happen to be in that neighborhood at that particular time?”

  Panova hesitated and said, without confidence, “I was walking back to my house.”

  Zoe, puzzled, “You live five miles from there. Seems like a long walk that late at night.”

  Panova recovered and, with more confidence, said, “I meant I was walking back to my car to drive home.”

  “But my question was, why were you in that neighborhood. What were you doing before you walked to your car?”

  “I dunno. I can’t remember. Is that a crime? Even presidents say that.”

  “Lev, where did you apply for a license to carry a gun?”

  Panova replied quickly, “Hyde Park police.”

  Zoe asked, “Do you know anyone in Athol?

  Panova, with a puzzled expression, “Athol?”

  “Yes, Athol, Massachusetts. About eighty-miles west of here.”

  Panova flatly, “No.”

  Zoe was zeroing in, “Yet that’s where your gun license was issued. Are you sure it was Hyde Park?”

  Panova shrugged but appeared more nervous, “I dunno. Maybe I got it from Athol.”

  Zoe continued, “Lev, you killed Peter Mason and claimed it was within your rights because you witnessed him killing another person, and you wanted to prevent him from killing others. They have a name for people like that. Do you know what it is?”

  “Yeah, a good guy.”

  Zoe pressed on, “That’s right. And because it was decided that you were a good guy, as opposed to a murderer, or a contract killer, you are currently free. But I’m getting a different feeling about you. I have a feeling that you’re not being truthful, and to me, good guys don’t lie. So, are you telling me the truth?”

  Panova, trying to smile it off, “I am. Hey, I shot that guy a long time ago, so I was kinda fuzzy about what I was doing that night. And I thought I picked up my license at the Hyde Park station.”

  “OK. That’s understandable. So, have you ever seen this guy before?” She handed him the mug shot of Vasin.

  Panova lost his poker face for a moment and started to recover, but Zoe interrupted him, “Remember, I’m trying to decide if you really are a good guy or a murderer.”

  Zoe had let Panova steal a glance at the other photo in her hand, and although he didn’t see it that well, he was smart enough to know what it contained. “Yeah. I seen him around.”

  Zoe reminded him, “In case you forgot his name, it’s Vik Vasin, and we’re talking with him, too. Do you want to tell us your side of your dealings with Vasin, or is this a good time for you to call a lawyer who can work out a deal in exchange for your cooperation?” She asked her colleagues, “What’s the penalty for first-degree murder in Massachusetts?”

  One of them told her, “Life with no parole.”

  They waited for Panova as he wrestled with his decision. “Yeah, I need to call a lawyer.”

  Zoe hoped that this was the break they needed. Now they needed to find Vasin before anyone else was shot, and then make a deal with Panova. She looked at her phone that she’d silenced before the questioning and saw a missed call from Hawke.

  Borrowing a spare office for privacy, she called him back and tried to contain her excitement about their break with Panova.

  Hawke answered, “Where are you?”

  Zoe explained that when she heard that a Secret Service agent had been shot, she flew up to understand what went wrong with their system.

  Hawke replied sarcastically, “And it had nothing to do with the fact that the Secret Service Agent is your girlfriend?”

  Zoe had been blind-sided, and she reverted to form, telling the truth. “Yes sir, she is my girlfriend, and when I found out last night that her condition was cri
tical, I flew up here. Thankfully she’ll be OK, and I’m bringing her back within a day or two.”

  “OK. I’m glad Agent Magray is OK. But what happened to the VT2 system? It seems we’re still flying blind.”

  Zoe went into further detail, her conversation with Vijay, as well as the firsthand account of the police officer who received the tip-off. “It’s the same M.O., except this time they used a cop instead of a hired good guy, and they had the Final Notice Recipient remove his watch.”

  She then took him through the questioning of Panova and her hope that it would put more pressure on Vasin, once they got him, to lead them up his chain of command.