by Tanya Stowe
His words didn’t mollify Sassa. Sam was dead. No amount of credentials, connections or degrees would change that. Besides...
“There is no formula.” She grated it out, determined to make her point.
“Yes, there is, Sassa. You were right. The pathogen’s potential terrified Sam. He wanted to develop a cure. We provided him with the equipment to work from a secret lab in his home.”
Sassa wanted to snipe and argue, but what he said struck deep. His words made sense and rang with truth. Sam had been distracted, preoccupied for months, like he behaved when working on a project. She’d thought he was spending more time with his wife. June deserved the attention, so Sassa never questioned the time off or the extra hours.
A thought hit her like a blow. “He had no resources. He had to access the internet. These people could have hacked the computer in his home and discovered he was working on a formula.”
De Luca shook his head. “He wasn’t hacked. We supplied him with a private server connected directly to ours. He had the best computer protection our government could provide. And...he wasn’t working on the formula. He completed it.”
“The virus is real. And now they have it,” she whispered. Cold swept over her, so deep and chilling, her hands trembled.
“How...how could you let this happen?” Her tone was harsh. The dam holding her emotions in check had burst. “Why didn’t you stop him from developing it? Why weren’t you on time?”
Her words seemed to reach their target. De Luca winced as if she’d actually struck him.
“Don’t be so hard on Officer De Luca, Ms. Nilsson.” She turned toward the lead agent, ready to lash out at him, too. “The Black Knights created a very complicated diversion—a bomb scare in the airport precisely at the right moment. Besides, we didn’t leave Dr. Kruger unprotected. We had a man following you both throughout the trip. We found his body in a bathroom stall on the upper floor, not far from where you exited the plane.”
Sassa stared at Kopack. The hot flames inside her died out. A man had been following them, watching them everywhere they’d gone on the trip, and she had no clue? She should have known. Should have been more aware, more cautious. Paid more attention to Sam. Instead she’d been focused on herself, her own problems and her ambition to gain a name for herself at the conference.
And she had the audacity to blame De Luca for his faults. The heat of shame tinged her cheeks. She’d failed Sam. The truth swamped her and threatened to drown her. A familiar sinking feeling trickled through her but she fought it. She might have failed Sam in his last days, but she wouldn’t fail him in his death. She’d make the people responsible pay. Her mind kicked into overdrive.
“These so-called Black Knights... They seem to be everywhere. Know everything.”
Kopack agreed and opened a file. “They are one of the most technically competent terrorist groups out there. All thanks to their leader, Nikolai Chekhov.” He pulled a photo out of the file and handed it to her. “Do you recognize him?”
She studied the man in the photo and noted the waxy complexion. “Yes, he looks like the man who stabbed Sam. I recognize the strange appearance of his skin. But he had black hair.”
“He was wearing a wig. We found it on the ground in the parking lot.”
“He can’t hide that skin. It looks half dead.”
“That’s because it is. Chekhov’s parents were brilliant nuclear physicists working at Chernobyl. His family survived the accident and immigrated to the US. In the subsequent years, Chekhov watched his parents and his older sister die from different forms of cancer, all due to radiation exposure. Chekhov didn’t escape their fate. He has severe nerve damage. It’s killing him, too, but at a much slower rate.”
“He wants vengeance.”
“Yes, and he’s very good at getting what he wants. Five years ago he joined the rather benign Knights and slowly but surely began to recruit brilliant sociopaths like himself. Eventually they took over the group and changed the name to the Black Knights, with a different goal. They don’t want to protect the environment but to destroy mankind’s destructive technological progress.”
Sassa pressed a hand to her forehead. In spite of her determination, her overworked mind was beginning to spin. “But they neglected to change their web page and include that little piece of information. That’s why Sam thought they were safe.”
“Chekhov believed he’d found another conversion with Dr. Kruger. He wasn’t happy when he found out he was wrong about the good doctor’s intentions...and Chekhov doesn’t like to be wrong. He sent his right-hand man to watch over the professor.”
He pulled out another photo and handed it to her. “My people spotted him on security film in and around the campus.”
Sassa stared at the agent, unable to move. At last, she looked at the picture of a stocky man with a long black beard and a ponytail. She had to work hard to get her eyes to focus. Finally, her blurred vision cleared. She closed her eyes, dropped her forehead to her hand and shook her head. “I don’t recognize him. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him. Sam developed the formula and I didn’t know... Men have been watching us on campus and following us...around the world, and I’m clueless. I’m sorry, Agent Kopack, but I’m useless to you.”
She was no longer able to fight the familiar feeling of failure, and it moved over her in a wave that dragged her body down. Tears came again. She couldn’t stop them this time and didn’t try. She covered her eyes with one hand and let them fall. “I just want to go home and hold my baby.”
After a short pause, Kopack cleared his throat. “I think we’re finished for now. Let’s—”
“Hold on.” Officer De Luca interrupted whatever Kopack meant to say. “You said Sam told you his ID bracelet was yours.”
Surprised, Sassa wiped the tears from her cheeks, sat up and opened her hand. She’d forgotten Sam’s gift. She’d clutched it so tightly during this interrogation that deep imprints grooved her skin. In fact, a small, slightly bloody spot showed where the latch had pierced the inside of her palm.
“May I see it?”
Officer De Luca’s request jarred her. Numb, she handed it to him with a jerky motion.
He ran his fingers across the numbers engraved on the face of the ID plate. “These numbers look like they could be a code of some sort, or maybe a combination.”
Sassa shook her head and lowered her forehead back onto her hand. “No. It’s nothing like that. Sam’s grandfather was a pastor in Germany during World War Two. Like many other Christian leaders, he protested the treatment of the disabled and the mentally ill so loudly, he ended up in a concentration camp. That’s the number assigned to him. Sam was very proud of his grandfather’s actions. He put the number on that bracelet to honor him. He meant to give it to Christopher. After his son died, Sam told me he wanted me to have it. It has nothing to do with the formula. I’m sorry. Like I said, I’m no help.”
She looked up and tried to focus on Agent Kopack. “Can I go home now?”
The agent nodded. “Yes. We’ve arranged for transportation. You’re in no shape to make the three-hour drive back to Fresno.”
She sighed with relief. “Kingsburg. My home is in Kingsburg.”
Now Kopack looked blank.
“It’s a small town a short drive out of Fresno.” Officer De Luca supplied the information. “I’ll take her there.”
“My agents are perfectly capable—”
“I’m taking her.” De Luca’s tone allowed for no arguments. He came around to her side of the table and assisted Sassa from her chair. She wasn’t certain she wanted him to make sure she got home safely but the grip on her arm was steady. In fact, his big, broad-shouldered body seemed to be the only thing holding her up. Her legs refused to work. She leaned on him as he half carried her out the door.
“My bag and my luggage.”
“I’ve got i
t, Sassa. Don’t worry.”
Don’t worry? If only.
* * *
Jared glanced at Sassa in the passenger seat next to him. The minute they’d climbed into his government-issued SUV, she’d pushed the seat back and fallen asleep. Three agents followed behind them; two in her car and another in a government car. Two of the agents would stay to guard Sassa at her parents’ house near Kingsburg. As soon as they dropped her off, Jared and the other agent would return to the small office in downtown Fresno.
They’d set up a temporary office four days ago when Sam had notified him that June was missing. The FBI had mobilized and was on site quickly. He’d been impressed. The same day he’d returned from Los Angeles and retrieved Sam’s message, they had him traveling to Fresno. Still, it hadn’t been fast enough to save his friend.
Jared stumbled over the thought of Sam’s death. The Black Knights had moved like lightning. After months of no activity and no contact with Sam, they’d snatched June off the street and attempted to blackmail Sam into handing over the formula. If the Black Knights couldn’t force Sam to hand over the formula, they had a “Plan B” to steal it.
Whirlwind fast. Jared would never underestimate them again—or rather, he’d never underestimate Nikolai Chekhov. He was the mastermind. A brilliant sociopath. Sassa had called him the Terminator, the robot-like creature from the movie of the same name. She’d referred to the unusual look of his skin and the emotionless features, all caused by the nerve damage that was killing him. But his mind, his brilliant mental capacity, was as robotic as his physical features. Like a computer, the man seemed ten steps ahead of the authorities. At least, he had been so far. They would have to scramble to get ahead. That was Jared’s sole purpose now. He would think further ahead, move quicker and never underestimate Chekhov. He wouldn’t fail again.
Sassa stirred and groaned. He glanced over. Her neck was in an awkward, twisted position. She groaned again, quiet and soft. A nice sound. Kind of personal. He liked it. In fact, now that he’d finally met Sassa, he’d discovered he liked a lot of things about her.
She was bright. Jared should have realized that. Sam wouldn’t have chosen an assistant who wasn’t extremely capable. In the interrogation, Kopack had intentionally left out information. Sassa had put the pieces together with skill. Sam’s murder had devastated her. That was obvious. But she hadn’t let emotion control her. She’d responded with a calm balance most people could not have summoned.
Those capabilities, combined with some nice features—eyebrows with little pointed peaks and bow-shaped lips—made it look as if she was always on the verge of a smile. Her appearance exuded likability. Usually, he didn’t go for curvy women. He preferred them tall and slender like Jessica...
Thinking of his wife—ex-wife now—was not a good idea. That whole situation had sent him into a tailspin and caused this disaster. If Jared hadn’t been forced to attend his divorce court date in LA, he might have received Sam’s call. He’d have been able to alert the authorities earlier and his friend might be alive today.
Jared’s jaw tightened. Now he could add that to his list of mistakes. He’d spent the last year of his separation from Jessica going over what he’d done wrong, wondering how he might have changed things to make his marriage work. He still didn’t have the answers and hanging on to a dead marriage had only made him seem pitiful in Jessica’s eyes. She didn’t understand how or why making it work mattered so much to him.
Sometimes he didn’t understand himself.
Maybe it had something to do with his grandfather and his Christian values...values Jared wasn’t sure he shared anymore. He’d lost faith in a God that didn’t seem to care. He’d learned that early in life with his alcoholic mother. But he’d been so busy trying to prove himself worthy of all the kind people who’d tried to pull him out of the mess and mire, he’d forgotten who had allowed him to be there in the first place. In fact, he wasn’t even sure if he believed God existed anymore.
One thing was for certain. If He did exist, He didn’t care about Jared De Luca. That was apparent. Everything he’d ever wanted and worked for had been taken away. His marriage with Jessica was only the latest example of that.
They’d had such plans for their marriage. They were going to go so far, him with his high-profile position in some exotic place like Miami, and Jessica with a PR firm representing big names. Jess had kept up her end of the plan. She’d made a name for herself in Hollywood. He couldn’t blame her for dumping him when his career fizzled and he ended up in the backwater station of Riverside, California.
Still, the divorce papers had been a shock and had put his life in a nosedive. He’d faced the fact that they were never going to be the power couple they’d envisioned, but he always thought they would work it out...until she told him she’d found someone else. Someone she worked with in the PR firm. A man “much older and more established” she’d said. What she’d meant was the “perfect power partner.”
Like a fool, he’d gone to Hollywood hoping to convince her to give it one more try before the court session. Their meeting was a pointless, painful debacle that ended in their divorce being finalized...and him not being there to answer Sam’s call when he’d needed him. He’d failed. He should have been there to protect Sam.
End of sentence.
Sassa jerked and raised her head, her eyes blinking rapidly. Her hand shot to her neck.
“Owww.” She rubbed the spot then scooted up in the seat and looked around. Cities and freeways had given way to the flat, open, golden hills of California’s Central Valley.
“We’re still an hour away from Kingsburg if you want to go back to sleep.”
“No. My body hurts in every possible way. I’ll sit up now.” She pushed the button on the seat and the back popped forward. Scrubbing her face, she released a heavy sigh.
Jared felt that heartfelt sigh to the bottom of his toes. “I know.” His voice was quiet. “I still can’t believe he’s gone, either.”
She turned to face him. “You liked Sam a lot, didn’t you?”
“He was a great man.” No matter how sincere he sounded, Jared’s tone couldn’t match the feeling of loss inside him. It was like the day he’d lost his grandad, the only male parental figure he’d ever known.
What a shame he hadn’t realized how much Sam had meant to him until now. A tight feeling clutched at his chest. “It may not seem like it, but I tried to protect him.”
“You didn’t try hard enough.”
The hotheaded woman Sam had described—Sassy Sassa—was back. Her attitude even showed in her features. Those pouty lips thinned. Just a little, but enough to notice.
He wanted to say something, to come back with a smart remark, but he couldn’t. What she’d said was true. He should have fought harder. Demanded more of...everything. Protection. Resources. Everything. Instead, he’d tried to go along with the program. Tried to be the dutiful agent, the good department man. He hadn’t wanted to rock the boat or to make enemies of his superiors. Once again, trying to prove himself worthy. It was an ugly truth but one that needed to be faced.
Jared was about to admit that truth to Sassa when she shook her head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m guilty, too. I was close to Sam. I was his assistant. I should have known something was wrong. But I was wrapped up in my own issues.”
A little surprised, he glanced her way and then quickly back to the freeway. “He worked hard to keep you out of it. He wanted to protect you and precious Keri.”
She jerked in surprise. “That’s what he called her.”
Jared smiled for the first time in hours...or was it days? “I know. Sam talked about her a lot...and you.”
He saw the glisten of tears before she turned her face away. “He was trying to save the world and I just wanted to save myself.”
Her words gave Jared pause. “Did you need saving?”
<
br /> Her little laugh was rueful. “Always. My life has been a series of setbacks. I had a full-ride scholarship for college, but no, I had to be one of the original teen moms. Pregnant in my senior year of high school. Then I married the guy.” She shook her head.
“Kopack mentioned your ex has a gambling addiction.”
She laughed again. “The appropriate question would be what isn’t he addicted to? Women. Alcohol. I lost my first baby worrying over his addictions. Then Erik disappeared. When he came crawling back, I gave him a second chance.”
She gave her ex a second chance? The one he never got. He turned to study her. “Why?”
Blue eyes widened and perky shaped brows rose into cute peaks.
“Why did you give him a second chance?” Jared repeated the question. The answer was important.
“I...guess I still loved him and... I believe marriage is a sacred vow.”
Not the answer Jared had expected and a sound, almost a chuckle, slipped out.
Sassa turned to him. “Are you laughing at my beliefs?”
“No. I’m laughing at myself really. Do you know where I was when Sam called? I was in Los Angeles trying to convince my wife that we needed to give our marriage one more chance.”
Sassa studied him for a long, silent moment. “Did it work?”
He gave his head a shake. “Just before we went into divorce court, her new boyfriend assured me there was nothing sacred about our vows...at least not for her.”
“I’m sorry. That must have hurt.”
She was quiet for a while. “I always felt that if Erik knew God, we would have had a better chance. But you can’t force someone to see God...even if He’s standing right in front of them.”
“It would be better if He made Himself easier to see.”
“It’s not supposed to be easy. It’s something we have to work toward.”
“Is that why Sam’s dead? To make life unbearably hard for you and me?”
