Passenger List

by John Scott Dryden

  REPORTER 4: Some relatives of missing passengers were forcefully removed from a news conference …

  EXPERT 3: But what doesn’t make any sense is that we have a tail fin found just south of the Faro Islands, with seats and other objects found off the coast of Newfoundland – the North Atlantic currents don’t work in that way …

  EXPERT 4: The problem is, the more time that passes, the harder it is to know what happened …

  EXPERT 5: If there was terrorism or criminal intent, the sea has effectively aided and abetted to hide the crime.

  MAYOR OF NEW YORK [at press conference]: We have to move on. Life is a fragile thing. Maybe this is a time for all of us to pause and turn to those we love and hold them close, because life … well, life is … fragile.

  19

  ‘That is definitely Conor’s voice? One hundred per cent?’

  Rory paced around Kaitlin’s darkened apartment, illuminated by the street light outside. The shadows swooped across the walls as he moved. He’d now listened to the message five times in a row.

  ‘I know what my own brother sounds like.’ Kaitlin’s hand was still shaking. She felt queasy to the pit of her stomach and her thoughts spun so wildly she could barely think straight.

  In one instant, the world around her had collapsed.

  ‘Of course you do,’ Rory soothed. ‘I’m not questioning you. But if someone wants to screw with you – and God knows we’ve discovered there are a lot of strange psychologies out there – there are plenty of ways they can achieve something like this. Cutting together old recordings, maybe, if they have access to them. Mimicking him with one of those voice modulation apps.’

  ‘It’s him, Rory. Trust me.’

  Kaitlin stuffed her cell away. There was no need to listen to it any more. She watched Rory continue to pace as he tried to make sense of this new development. She was glad he was here. He’d raced round the moment she called him and after so long walking this road alone, it was comforting to have someone who was prepared to do that.

  ‘What does this all mean?’ she wondered aloud.

  Rory paused at the window and looked back at her. Kaitlin watched his silhouette for a long moment as he gathered his thoughts.

  ‘We have two pieces of conflicting evidence,’ he began. ‘Wreckage found off the coast of Nova Scotia, with trace elements of explosives, implying Flight 702 was lost at sea after a terrorist attack. And a voice message from your brother, Conor, who was on that plane. They can’t both be right.

  ‘If you’re certain that really is Conor, and you are, then the wreckage is a cover-up, probably at the highest level, one of the biggest cover-ups in history.’ He breathed in for a moment, letting those words sink in for both of them. ‘And that means Conor – and, by the sounds of it, perhaps all of the passengers – are still alive somewhere.’

  Kaitlin felt a surge of euphoria. It was the conclusion she’d come to herself, but it was good to hear it from someone else.

  Conor was alive.

  She couldn’t believe it. So much time spent hoping, longing for some shred of proof that Conor wasn’t really gone. Even now she barely dared allow herself to accept it. But it was the only logical explanation for that voice message.

  Rory stepped forwards, his voice softening. ‘You’re focusing on Conor. That’s understandable. Take a moment to enjoy that feeling.’

  ‘Tell me what’s on your mind. You’re going to get there soon enough anyway.’

  ‘A cover-up that big, a conspiracy, can you imagine how high it must go? The agencies involved? All that planting of evidence, reports, signing off? Are we … Are we getting into Watergate territory here? Who ordered this? Why did they order it? I mean, if we can crack this, the payout is going to be immense. Immense. But …’

  Rory was babbling, as he tended to do from time to time when his thoughts came too fast for his mouth. Kaitlin watched him, feeling her euphoria ebb away as she started to comprehend what he was saying.

  ‘The thing about powerful people is that they have so much to lose when they’re caught out on the wrong side of the law,’ he continued. ‘And when the stakes are that high, those people will go to any lengths to make sure they aren’t found out. I think you’re in danger. I think we both are. I mean, I thought we were in danger before. But this is a whole other level.’

  He let that hang for a moment.

  ‘This explains all the surveillance,’ Kaitlin said. ‘That constant feeling of being watched and followed – that wasn’t paranoia at all.’

  ‘Exactly. And look what happened to Dennison. They’ve got him locked up in a rubber room now. You’ve had two agencies activated against you so far. Unusual? Yes. But you had a high profile what with the hotline and all the families you contacted. You were bound to fall on the official radar.

  ‘But they were trying to frighten you off, right? That’s how it seemed. I’m not saying Homeland Security and the FBI are in on this conspiracy, but they were activated by someone higher up who may well have been. Now, though, you have direct proof that all is not as it’s purported to be. Before, you were just a grief-stricken amateur, however dogged. Someone who could easily be downplayed. This makes you a direct threat.’

  Kaitlin pulled out her cell. ‘Should I delete the voicemail? I don’t want to, but …’

  She really didn’t. Just hearing Conor’s voice again after so long filled her with a feeling of warmth. She wanted to be able to play it back whenever she felt low.

  ‘No point. The NSA will already know. They’ve probably been monitoring your original cell for a long time now.’ That final word died in Rory’s throat and he looked around the dark room.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I wonder if this place is bugged,’ he whispered. ‘I could get one of those devices to sweep for it, but we should presume it probably is.’

  ‘How?’ Kaitlin felt her spine prickle.

  ‘Easy enough for someone to gain access. They can be in and out in maybe fifteen minutes.’ He marched across the lounge and pressed his ear to the front door. Once he’d heard enough, he strode back. ‘Starting to think this paranoia is driving me crazy. You ever see that movie The Conversation? No, no, before your time, obviously. Gene Hackman caught up in this kind of surveillance world and the paranoia finally does for him. Anyway, I digress. I think we need to get you out of here.’

  ‘And go where?’

  ‘Not back to Vassar, or your folks’ place in Kansas. They’ll have those covered. Just away somewhere. Off the grid, until we figure out what the next step is.’

  ‘On the run?’

  ‘Let’s say lying low. You’ve got your burner. You need to change it regularly.’

  ‘I’m just about out of funds.’

  Rory dipped in his jacket pocket and pulled out his wallet. ‘Here,’ he said, holding out a wad of notes.

  ‘I know money’s tight for you, too.’

  ‘I see this as an investment. Once we break this open, dollars are going to be raining down all around me.’

  Kaitlin knew Rory was being kind. For all his bluster, he had a big heart. But she took his donation and folded it away. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘OK. Now, I’d better get out of here. I don’t know how much they know of my involvement with you and with my mercenary reputation. I’m pretty sure they won’t be taking me too seriously, but I need to be on the outside, able to operate freely. I can be your anchor. You contact me any time, Kaitlin, OK?’

  Kaitlin stared into the shadows. For the first time, she felt frightened, adrift.

  Rory turned back at the doorway. ‘You gonna be OK?’

  ‘I’ll be fine.’ She felt her determination harden as she said those words and she knew it was true. ‘We’re in a new place. There were times when I was wavering before, I admit that. But I know Conor is alive now and I’m going to do everything in my power to bring him back home.’

  Kaitlin’s cell buzzed in the lonely silence of her room and she jumped. From the glow on the scree
n, she could see it was her mother. She’d been frantically stuffing possessions into her backpack and her thoughts were racing far away from a pleasant domestic conversation. But she could never ignore her mom.

  ‘Hi,’ she said.

  ‘Kaitlin, what is wrong with you?’ her mother blurted.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You’ve still not been attending classes. At all. I spoke to your room-mate and she attempted to cover for you. Only to be expected, of course. Are you throwing away your life on this wild goose chase?’

  ‘Mom, this isn’t the time.’

  ‘And when is the time? You never call any more. Your poor father is desperate to hear from you. He’s afraid – we’re both afraid – that you’re destroying your future.’

  ‘How is Dad?’

  Silence. Then: ‘Well. As well as can be expected.’

  Kaitlin swallowed. What could she say? She desperately wanted to tell her mom that Conor was still alive, but at this stage it would only cause more heartache and she didn’t want that. She needed to find out more first.

  ‘Please don’t worry about me.’

  ‘I do worry! How can I not? You’re my daughter, Kaitlin. You’re … You’re my only child now.’

  Kaitlin felt a rush of pain as she heard the break in her mom’s voice. When she spoke again, her mother was quieter.

  ‘You saw the report? About the wreckage?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘It’s time to give up this … search. This quest. It’s dominated your life for so long.’

  Now, the pity in her mom’s voice was just as heartbreaking.

  ‘You’re free to return to your life now, my little girl.’

  ‘Mom—’

  ‘Please. For me. You need to get back to class, Kaitlin. Vassar won’t keep your place open much longer.’

  ‘I will. Please trust me. I have a few more things to sort out. If you can just give me a little more time. Look, I’ve got to go, Mom.’

  ‘Kaitlin—’

  ‘I’ve got to go.’

  She hung up. She hated being so abrupt – she knew it would have hurt her mother’s feelings – but she wasn’t in the position to face more of her incisive questions and she didn’t want to lie.

  But that call had driven one thing home: she wasn’t just doing this for herself any more. She had to find Conor for the sake of her parents. She was their only hope.

  Kaitlin stuffed the last of her possessions in her backpack and looked around the apartment one last time. She had no idea where she’d be going next or what the future held. But at that moment, it seemed that every aspect of the life she’d built for herself since she was a girl was being systematically stripped away.

  If Conor was here, he’d tell her to be positive. She was being reborn. A butterfly emerging from its chrysalis. Instead, she felt as though she were being whittled away until there would be nothing left.

  Her shadow dancing from the sodium glow from the street lights around the park, she eased to the open door of her bedroom. The block was uncharacteristically still. No throb of music from the students having an impromptu party on the roof. No rumble of voices from the young parents who always seemed to be arguing, or the incessant cries of their toddler.

  Quiet.

  As she looked out into the sparsely furnished lounge, the sole lamp winked out.

  Kaitlin stiffened. Just a bulb dying, but in this paranoid existence, everything seemed weighted with meaning.

  She pulled out her cell to light her way to the door and as the screen illuminated, she noticed she had no signal. That was weird. There had never been a problem there before. Checking, she unlocked it to call Rory, but there was only a strange humming.

  Trust your instinct.

  Kaitlin reached out and flicked the main light switch. Nothing. The power was out. She hurried back to her bedroom window and peered out into the night. Only her block was in darkness. Something else jarred – there was no traffic rumbling along the street outside. That never happened in New York.

  Now, her heart was starting to patter. Rory’s warning about danger echoed in her mind. The silence seemed to get deeper with every moment, but inside, her instincts were screaming at her to get out.

  Scrambling to the door, she squinted through the spyhole, but the darkness rendered the action futile. Taking a deep breath, she prepared herself to run, then wrenched it open, hurling herself along the hall to the top of the stairs. There, the suffocating blanket of stillness was even more noticeable. Her sneakers whispered down the steps.

  The glass front door looked out on a deserted Avenue A. Kaitlin ground to a halt and watched, her blood thumping in her head.

  She had a clear run to Tompkins Square Park. She could lose herself among the trees and head to … where? Out to the East Side? Head up to Midtown? Her thoughts whirled.

  Kaitlin took a step towards the door and paused. A shadow across the sidewalk moved, almost imperceptibly, but to her heightened senses that flicker was like a lightning strike.

  Somebody was waiting beside the door, out of sight.

  Kaitlin spun round and crept back along the hall. She had two choices. Head up to the roof and move from building to building until she could drop to a fire escape and make her way down. But if there were any drones, she’d be clearly visible. If she’d said that to anyone, they’d have thought she was paranoid. That was how crazy her world had become.

  That left out of the back, across the yard and over the high security fence into the neighbouring property. There should be enough shadows out there to give her cover, if only she could make it over the fence.

  As she eased forwards, the click of the front door lock echoed through the stillness.

  Kaitlin sprinted forwards. No time for subterfuge. They’d be on her in an instant. She slammed through the door into the dark backyard. Her breath clouded in the chill air.

  Footsteps rang out behind like the cracks of a gun. They knew she was running.

  The chain-link security fence soared up four times her height. Daunting, but she could do it.

  She had no choice.

  As Kaitlin launched herself towards the towering barrier, two shadows separated from the wider darkness, one on each side of her.

  She cried out in shock, but there was no time to turn away.

  A bag rammed down over head, and then she was choking to catch her breath as her arms were yanked behind her back and plastic cuffs burned into her wrists.

  20

  Light flooded into Kaitlin’s vision as the bag was yanked off her head. She screwed up her eyes until they’d adjusted to the glare, straining at the cuffs that bound her hands behind the chair on which she was sitting.

  ‘You can’t do this to me,’ she snarled.

  ‘I’m not doing anything.’ A voice with a hint of Texan wide open spaces rolled out at her back.

  ‘You can’t snatch me from my home.’

  ‘You weren’t snatched.’

  ‘How did I get here, then?’

  ‘You’re not here.’

  At that, Kaitlin felt a chill. She understood the implication. This was outside the law. She was a nobody, nowhere, with no voice, and if she wasn’t careful, she might never find her way back to the world she knew.

  A man wandered round into her frame of vision. He was heavyset, bearded, with a Hawaiian shirt open to reveal tufts of chest hair. He slumped down and rocked back on the rear two legs.

  ‘Is this how the government acts now?’ she asked. ‘What are you, CIA?’

  He shrugged. Definitely CIA.

  ‘Lucky me. I got the trifecta. Don’t any of you government agencies ever talk to each other?’

  ‘That implies we’re all working to the same end,’ he drawled.

  ‘Conspiracies everywhere.’

  ‘Yup.’

  ‘What’s your name?’

  He looked up at the ceiling fan for a moment. ‘You can call me Grady.’

  ‘Am I under arrest?’
/>
  ‘Course not. Just wanted to make sure you’re OK.’

  ‘Well, I’m just fine.’ Her expression was stony.

  ‘That’s good to know.’ Grady rocked back and forth, staring at her and grinning.

  Kaitlin held his gaze. After a moment, he picked up a plastic file from the table and flicked through the contents.

  ‘You visited the brother of one of the passengers on Flight 702, one Dr Aziz.’

  ‘Not against the law.’

  ‘It’s the kind of thing that sets those old alarm bells jangling. Your parents are pretty worried about you, I hear.’

  ‘Leave my parents out of it.’

  ‘I’m afraid I can’t do that, Kaitlin. Sorry. They’re a part of this. One step removed, maybe. But they made Conor Le and Conor Le is …’ He wafted a hand in the air. ‘A person of interest, shall we say.’

  ‘Get to the point.’

  ‘Feisty. I like that. Well, now, just like you, I’m investigating Flight 702 – ’cept I’m doing it legitimately.’

  ‘And I’m illegitimate?’

  ‘Hanging round with shady characters like Rory Murray? That’s not a good look, Kaitlin.’

  ‘What’s he got to do with anything?’

  ‘Just seems like a strange choice of ally. You shouldn’t be so sure you can trust him.’

  ‘Well, I’m pretty sure I can’t trust you.’

  Grady examined his file again. ‘You know he was involved with a plane crash before, right? Helped to cover up the cause, in fact. He protected his client, the airline, and as a result, more people died.’

  Kaitlin flinched. Surely that couldn’t be true? Was this another layer to the smokescreen of lies?

  ‘He knew there was a fault in their planes. But if he’d revealed that information, his clients would have lost a pretty big lawsuit.’

  ‘I don’t believe you.’

  ‘That’s neither here nor there. The point is, there are official investigations under way, and yours and Mr Murray’s are not among them.’

  Kaitlin strained against the cuffs again. Futile. But the pain where they cut into her wrists cleared her head from the hurt she felt at Rory having potentially lied to her. Suddenly, it clicked.