In the Grey

by Christian, Claudia Hall

  “Why didn’t they prosecute me?” Helen asked.

  Troy grimaced and looked away.

  “Did you make that happen?” Helen asked.

  He turned to look at her.

  “The last memory I have was of that district attorney telling me that I was going to live the rest of my days in prison for killing Dahlia,” Helen said. “He told me I’d live in solitary confinement in an eight-by-ten cell. He would personally see to it that I was never, ever let out.”

  “Sounds like a real asshole,” Troy said.

  Helen chuckled. Troy grinned, and she shook her head at him.

  “Do you know why they didn’t prosecute me?” Helen asked. “I should be in jail. I knew they paid that guy to kill Dahlia. I didn’t do anything to save her or the boys. Hector would have killed them too. It’s entirely my fault.”

  “No, Helen, it’s not,” Troy said.

  “But the law . . . ,” Helen’s face flushed bright red, and tears fell from her eyes.

  Troy looked away to give her a chance to collect herself.

  “How did you pull it off, Genius?” Helen asked using his childhood nickname.

  “I convinced Dad to take the blame,” Troy said.

  “You what?” Helen was so surprised she jumped from her rocking chair.

  Troy smiled and held the chair so she could sit again.

  “What do you think Dad is the most afraid of?” Troy asked.

  “Being victimized,” Helen said. “Being weak like me.”

  “You are not weak,” Troy said.

  “You know what I mean,” Helen said.

  “I do,” Troy said. “And you’re wrong. You’re lovely and very human, which makes you all the more beautiful; you’re not a demented aberration of nature like Hector and Dad.”

  “How did you do it?” Helen asked.

  “I’d be lying if I said it was all me. My team helped me come up with the plan and the evidence,” Troy said. “But I leveraged Dad’s fear and convinced him to be an actual father. He got puffed up about the idea of saving his children while saving his own ass. The truth is that he wouldn’t survive long in the world. I gave him enough evidence to convince him. So he confessed to the entire thing.”

  “What did he get in return?” Helen asked.

  “He’s in a medium-security-facility, no murderers or rapists. He’s not thrilled, but he’ll survive. He gets to see his grandchildren once a year, and that makes him feel important. Mom is setting up accounts so he’ll have money to buy perks. Last I heard, he was in a regular poker game with a couple of those Ponzi scheme guys.”

  “That was nice of you,” Helen said. “A lot nicer than I would have been.”

  “What would you do?”

  “I’d kill him – slow and mean,” Helen’s voice was so matter-of-fact that Troy leaned over to look in her face.

  “Ever killed anyone?” Troy asked.

  Helen shook her head.

  “It’s not all it’s cracked up to be,” Troy said. “Especially slow and mean.”

  Helen gave him a solemn nod.

  “I know you’d rather stay here and talk about killing our father,” Troy said. “But I’d rather go horseback riding.”

  Helen’s face broke into a big smile. She stood and held her arms out. They gave each other a tight hug.

  “Can you stay all day?” Helen asked.

  “I planned to,” Troy said.

  “Good,” Helen said. “I’ll take you to my favorite place. This way!”

  She started off toward the stables. Troy shook his head and smiled.

  “Come on!” she waved, and he jogged after her.

  F

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Wednesday, early morning

  November 17 – 5:01 a.m. CET

  (November 16 – 11:01 p.m. EST)

  Ramstein Air Base, Germany

  The door opened behind her, and Alex looked up from her laptop. Seeing a US Navy ensign, Alex stood from her seat at the table. She put her shoulders back and her feet together and stood at attention. The Admiral came in the door. The ensign saluted and left the room. The Admiral stared at Alex for a moment.

  “Did you ask Captain Hutchins and Petty Officer Carmichael to escort me off the plane to soothe me?” the Admiral asked.

  Alex stared straight ahead.

  “I’ve had intelligence officers crawling up my ass,” the Admiral said. “I’ve had to fly to Germany to have a ‘secure’ conversation, and you think Hutchins and Carmichael would do the trick?”

  Alex stood at attention.

  “Oh Christ,” the Admiral said. “At ease, Lieutenant Colonel. You may speak.”

  “Should I have sent Chief Tubman?” Alex asked.

  “God damn it, Alex,” the Admiral said. “I hate intelligence officers.”

  “Yes sir,” Alex said. “I thought it might be a relief to see a few of your own,”

  He gave Alex an irritated stare, and she shrugged. She gestured to the table in front of her and he sat down in the chair across from hers. She sat down beside her laptop.

  “Coffee?” he asked.

  Alex poured him a cup from the drip coffee maker on the table.

  “I brought it from Paris – beans, fresh cream, and maker, sir,” Alex said. “I have pastries as well. Would you like one?”

  Alex gestured to a paper bag on the table. He pulled the bag over and looked in.

  “You do love me,” the Admiral said as he pulled a chocolate-filled croissant out of the bag. “I love these.”

  “Yes, sir,” Alex said.

  “Run through it while I eat,” the Admiral said.

  “Sir . . .”

  “Just humor me,” the Admiral said. “Pretend you’re talking to your superior officer and run through it.”

  “Agent Rasmussen and I arrived in Paris on Saturday morning with our families,” Alex said. “We had a relaxing few days, during with we took in a few sights and mostly stayed in the condo to avoid the rain. Our families left early Monday morning. Agent Rasmussen and I were in intelligence meetings all day. Monday evening, we went to Le Fée Verte for crepes and then went dancing. We only visited the secure dance clubs on the list.”

  “Yes, I saw the list,” the Admiral said. “None of those private clubs that you love?”

  “No, sir,” Alex said. “We opted for something more secure, sir. We arrived at the condo around four. Agent Rasmussen took a shower. He was going to nap until the team arrived at eleven.”

  The Admiral wiped his mouth on his white starched handkerchief and nodded for her to go on.

  “I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I would go down to the storage vaults under Le Fée Verte, under the condos,” Alex said. “As you know, I wanted to look again to see if I possibly missed something. I assumed that I would be safe because of the increased security on the units and the time of day. Due to the extensive security, my attention was on a potential threat outside the door rather than inside the door.”

  Alex clicked a button on her laptop and turned it around. The Admiral watched the security video of her interaction with Cooper. His eyebrows shot up when Cooper’s personality split the first time. He leaned forward to get a better look. When the video ended, he leaned back in his chair.

  “When she collapsed, I called emergency services, Agent Rasmussen, and Dominic,” Alex said. “He called his assistant Y, and she . . .”

  Alex nodded.

  “You saw an object thrown under the ambulance?” the Admiral asked.

  “Yes, sir,” Alex said. “We retrieved footage from the surveillance cameras on the street. You can see this person . . .”

  Alex turned the laptop around to face her and clicked a few buttons. She rotated the laptop back to him.

  “The Préfecture de Police found him floating in the river,” Alex said. “Honestly, sir, we don’t believe he knew what he threw.”

  Alex reached around to run the video. The video showed a hooded young man toss what looked like an al
uminum canister under the ambulance. When the object exploded, he reeled back in horror. Too shocked to move, he watched the ambulance fly through the air and land on its gas tank. When the gas tank exploded, he ran out of the frame.

  “That’s no soldier,” the Admiral said.

  “No, sir,” Alex said. “The prefect believed they would find him . . . alive.”

  Alex shrugged.

  “Another dead body, another dead end,” the Admiral said.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And Cooper?” the Admiral asked.

  “She has no family,” Alex said. “Agent Rasmussen was able to find a record of her flight to Paris. We are in contact with the Denver Police. They interviewed her colleagues at the Central Library yesterday. They thought she was going on a vacation to Paris. I guess she’d been talking about going for a few years. She never mentioned to them that Paul was killed there. She may not have remembered. She had booked a room at one of those hotels that caters to tourists. She made no efforts to disguise herself or her trip. On paper, it looks like a tourist trip.”

  “Why did she faint?” the Admiral asked.

  “She was most likely programmed to faint when she was done with me. That’s a fairly common procedure,” Alex said. “It’s also exhausting for the personality to do all of that switching. You can pick the reason you like best. Either will work.”

  “And the ambulance?” the Admiral asked.

  “The gas tank was either not well maintained or booby trapped,” Alex said. “We believe the latter, as does the company which maintains the vehicles. There’s not enough of the vehicle left to determine one way or the other. Ambulances of the same make are going through maintenance right now to be certain it’s not a design flaw.”

  “How are you?” the Admiral asked. “I heard you and Agent Rasmussen sat in the rain for more than an hour. No one could get you to budge.”

  “We’re bruised and suffered minor cuts from the second explosion of the ambulance,” Alex said. “But nothing major. We are fit for duty, sir.”

  “Emotionally, mentally,” the Admiral said.

  “Yes, sir.” Alex fell silent while she thought about his question. “If I may speak for Agent Rasmussen, we are experiencing a kind of stunned shell-shock. The assault was . . . years ago, but it’s still very fresh in our minds. Everything on that street has changed. The restaurants are different, the buildings . . . and still, this pressure and threat remain. It’s . . . unnerving.”

  “And this book or paper or . . . ?” the Admiral asked.

  “When I return to Paris, the team and I will look through the vaults again,” Alex said. “I had wanted to do that alone. I realize now that was foolish.”

  “Foolish?” the Admiral asked. “At the very least.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’ve put another team on finding Captain Ramirez’s cousin,” the Admiral said. “Agent Rasmussen’s report is clear. Captain Ramirez is one of the barriers to getting to you. I’d like to have him reinstalled.”

  “He’s resolved the bioweapons issue at Pelican Bay,” Alex said.

  “He has?”

  “Yes, sir,” Alex said. “They’re made in solitary confinement by prisoners and smuggled out by dipping their lunch bags in the stuff. It turns out that his cousin set the whole thing up.”

  “Have they moved on the perpetrators yet?” the Admiral asked.

  “No sir,” Alex said. “Agent Vega and the warden want everyone involved inside the prison. They’ve been able to isolate a few of the guards, but not all of them. A DHS team is working to determine the sales chain outside the prison. Meantime, Captain Blanco is guarding Captain Ramirez to make sure he doesn’t come to harm. We’re hoping to move Captain Ramirez to the Florence Supermax where we believe he’ll be safer.”

  The Admiral nodded.

  “Sir, I have a couple of questions for you,” Alex said.

  “Go ahead.”

  “Do you remember telling me about attending a lecture while you were in graduate school?” Alex asked.

  “Less than a week ago?” the Admiral smiled. “Yes, Lieutenant Colonel, I remember.”

  “We have intel from Captain Olivas that indicates that the most recent goal for the nanodrones is to ‘flick a switch and everything burns.’”

  The Admiral’s face went blank. He blinked at her.

  “The nanodrones were sold as tracking devices,” Alex said. “They vibrate, which we knew. The purchase of the drones included a subscription for satellite time. That’s how Hector found Dahlia and the boys.”

  The Admiral continued to blink at her. Uncomfortable with his silence, she continued.

  “Someone could purchase a drone as a tracking device,” Alex said. “They might want it to find a person or keep track of someone even for protection purposes. Imagine if every head of state and high-level intelligence operative had a nanodrone on them. All they’d have to do is flick a switch and burn every target.”

  “You’re serious,” the Admiral said.

  “Yes, sir,” Alex said.

  “And your questions?”

  “The most obvious is, who was the lecturer?” Alex asked.

  “Josef Yakovlev,” the Admiral said.

  “Yakovlev?” Alex asked. “Why is that name familiar?”

  “His younger brother was a famous Russian aeronautical engineer,” the Admiral said. “Josef was an engineer, physicist, and philosopher.”

  “You said he came over in Operation Paperclip?” Alex asked.

  “They would have preferred his brother, Alexander,” the Admiral said. “They probably thought Alexander would follow Josef, but Alexander preferred to work under Stalin.”

  “As you heard, sir, the men who came for Cooper . . . ,” Alex started.

  “Were from Texas,” the Admiral interrupted. “Yes, I heard that.”

  “Operation Paperclip . . .”

  “Yes, they were mostly housed at Fort Bliss,” the Admiral said. “Dr. Yakovlev was there as well.”

  “Sir . . .”

  “I also grew up in Texas. In fact, I’ve been fascinated with Operation Paperclip since my childhood in Texas. Those funny foreign men would show up at the strangest places,” the Admiral said. His voice rose in anger, “Is that what you’re getting at? Are you asking me if I brainwashed this young woman into trying to kill you? Wouldn’t it have been easier if I’d killed you one of the many times we’ve been alone together?”

  Alex didn’t respond. The Admiral’s eyes scolded her in a way he would never do with his voice.

  “What does Cee Cee Joiner have to do with Dr. Yakovlev?” Alex asked.

  “Other than the fact that I thought of it?” the Admiral asked.

  “Yes, sir,” Alex said. “I’m wondering why you thought of it.”

  “Why do you ask?” the Admiral glared at her. “If anyone else asked me this question . . .”

  “Yes, sir,” Alex said. “I appreciate the trust you place in me by answering my questions.”

  The Admiral let out a controlled breath. Alex felt the anger emanate from his body. His eyes reviewed her face. He lowered his eyes for a moment and then looked up again.

  “The truth is that I don’t know,” the Admiral said. “I don’t know why I thought of it all those years ago, or just the other day.”

  “Did Dr. Yakovlev say anything that reminded you of Cee Cee Joiner?” Alex asked.

  “No,” the Admiral said. “I’ve met Cecil Joiner, twice, I think. He . . .”

  “Cee Cee Joiner did not believe Cecil was his biological father,” Alex said. “Cee Cee stated that Cecil had a bioidentical, single zygotic twin who tortured Cecil’s wife and murdered her parents when Cee Cee was three. My team has been able to track Cyril Joiner, the twin, through a number of small prisons throughout the southwest and Texas. Cee Cee indicated that Cecil killed his twin after the twin found oil on the in-laws property. We have not had a chance to speak with Cecil, but we will do that on our way home.”


  “Twins; split personalities,” the Admiral shook his head.

  “Yes, sir,” Alex nodded. “It’s hard to fathom.”

  “Did Cee Cee Joiner know the Jaspers?” the Admiral asked.

  “Not according to Helen, sir,” Alex said. “We haven’t acquired the proper leverage to pry any information out of Jasper, Sr.”

  “Could Cee Cee Joiner have been at the Yakovlev lecture?” the Admiral asked.

  “I’m not sure, sir,” Alex said.

  “Where were you in the mid-1990s?” the Admiral asked.

  “I’d just joined the military,” Alex said. “I was deployed in Bosnia on a UN mission.”

  The Admiral nodded.

  “We’ve explored the possibility that our experiences in Bosnia were the beginning of . . . all of this,” Alex said.

  “Joiner was ten years older than you?”

  “Thirteen, sir,” Alex said.

  “He could have easily been at the lecture,” the Admiral said. “Or in Bosnia for that matter.”

  “Would you give us permission to investigate?” Alex asked.

  “Discretely,” the Admiral said.

  “Yes, sir,” Alex asked. “One last question.”

  “Go ahead,” the Admiral said.

  “Did Dr. Yakovlev write any books?” Alex asked.

  “He wrote chapters in a few physics text, but nothing about this,” the Admiral said. “I’m sure that’s easy to check.”

  “Yes, sir,” Alex said. “Thank you, sir.”

  “You know that a few of those Paperclips were involved in the mind control studies,” the Admiral said.

  “Yes, sir,” Alex said. “As an expert on Operation Paperclip, do you have any sense if that’s a key factor to pursue?”

  “The power of Operation Paperclip was getting those great minds in one place,” the Admiral said. “It seems to me that this entire project is about who knows whom. The mind control experts were probably friends of Yakovlev’s or his wife’s. As you know, friendships are very hard to track.”

  “Yes, sir,” Alex said.

  The Admiral poured himself another cup of coffee and offered the pot to Alex. She took another cup. He dug another chocolate croissant from the bag. She drank her coffee while he ate his pastry.