by Mark Terry
“My suit’s back around the corner,” said Derek.
“Sure,” Calloway said with a grin. “How about I just run on over there and get it and leave you here to twiddle your thumbs. You promise to stay put?”
Derek grinned back at him. “Not buying that, huh?”
“We’ve got spares, as you know. Come on, Derek. Don’t be such a cowboy. You helped write these regs. Try following them from time to time.”
“Rules are meant to be broken,” Derek said, following Calloway into the tent. “That’s why I’m so involved in writing them.”
“I bet.”
Calloway helped him into a suit, then checked that all the seams were sealed. He handed Derek back the crutch. “Z is in charge in there. I replace Fanconi when he comes out.”
“Make sure nobody gets in here without authorization,” Derek said. “You know what happened to McMillan.”
Calloway nodded. “I know. Take care.”
Slowly, even more awkwardly than usual, Derek hobbled in the spacesuit through the doors of the casino. It was large and open, more ornate than he expected, with a kind of quasi-Mediterranean theme going. Greek, he supposed, or at least, the kind of Greek you create in a casino for people that have never been to Greece.
As he moved through the casino, looking for other space-suited figures, he noted the peculiarity of it all. The bright neon of the electronic games, cups of coins and tokens still sitting on the screens. They beeped and burped and whirred, waiting to be fed more money. Someone in a white suit moved toward him. When he got close, he saw it was Agent Mitch Fanconi, Calloway’s replacement. Fanconi approached him. Through his faceplate Derek saw a sweaty, dark-skinned face and dark eyes. Fanconi said, “That you, Derek?”
“It’s me.”
“Missed you at Scott Hall. Could’ve used the extra body.”
“Off chasing leads.”
“Lucky you. I hear you’re behind the call here?”
“Yes. Anything?”
Fanconi shook his head. “I don’t know whether to be thankful or not. Was this a solid lead?”
“Very.”
“Good. Gray probably won’t think so. He’s got it out for you. Any special reason?”
“Now, yes. Before Scott Hall, no. Doesn’t like outsiders, I guess.”
Fanconi laughed. “You’re not an outsider to us, and you know it. You can cover my back anytime. You need help with Gray or those upcoming hearings, you just call me.”
“Thanks. Where is everybody?”
“Zoelig suited up the casino’s head of security. He’s taking Z through all the hiding places for security, you know, the eye-in-the-sky shit.”
“Big Brother’s watching,” Derek said.
“Got that right. Talk to you on the flip side.” Fanconi patted him on the shoulder and moved on.
Derek trudged forward, running into Zoelig and the security guy in what he presumed was the poker room, based on the poker tables, cards and chips scattered across the green felt. The security guy looked one step from a nervous breakdown. Derek wasn’t surprised. The spacesuits were claustrophobic as hell. Newbies always had problems before they adjusted. Sometimes people couldn’t adjust. And sometimes people who worked in hot zones developed claustrophobia and had to quit.
Derek had never had problems with claustrophobia. Fear of death. Fear of his suit springing a leak. Fear of cutting his suit. Fear of opening his suit at the wrong time. Fear of screwing up in a hundred different ways, yes. But fear of the suit, never.
Zoelig shifted awkwardly. “Derek?”
“Yeah. That’s me. Any luck?”
“No. Hear you called this in.”
“Guilty.”
“What’s your lead?”
“I want to know that, too,” said the security chief. He was a doughy-looking guy, bald, his round face pale and slick with sweat through his suit’s faceplate. “But I want to get the fuck out of this suit first.”
“Straight out and to the left,” Zoelig said. “They’ll wash you down first before you can get out of the suit. That’s important.”
“Yeah, sure.” The security director shuffled away.
Zoelig turned to him. “Tell me.”
The two men stood side-by-side, faceplates touching. Derek shouted to be heard over the fan, explaining.
Zoelig nodded. “Good call. Very good call, Derek. Gray’s going to freak if we don’t find anything, though.”
“Not really, he won’t,” Derek said. “He can blame it all on me. He’s been setting me up that way all day.”
Zoelig shrugged. “You noticed that, did you?”
“I’m the perfect sacrificial lamb, Z. If everything goes to hell, it’s not the SAC’s fault, it’s that damn troubleshooter from DHS. He screwed things up.”
“Yeah. You been covering your ass, then?”
Derek laughed.
Zoelig snorted. “Figures. When will you learn?”
“Never, probably. Let’s go see if we can find something that might go boom or hiss around here.”
“Haven’t checked the restaurant yet.”
“Let’s go, then.”
65
4:18 p.m.
MATT GRAY WATCHED STILLWATER walk away before turning to Jill. She didn’t like the look on his face at all.
“So,” Gray said, voice low. “This is your idea of following orders?”
Jill leveled her gaze at him. “Meaning what, Matt?”
Gray glanced around to make sure nobody was close enough to hear them. “Your job,” he hissed, “was to contain him. I made that perfectly clear to you. We didn’t want him running around loose causing trouble.”
“From my perspective,” she said, “he’s been following the leads that you didn’t think were important enough to put manpower on. And he’s been doing a very good, though unorthodox job. And these were real leads.”
“Bullshit, Jill! Nothing happened here!”
“That doesn’t change the fact that we found written documentation with a terrorism expert’s name on it outlining exactly what we’ve seen here today. Or, for that matter, that this person Stillwater and I have been chasing practically signs his name at the crime scenes and booby-traps the places we might hunt for him.”
“And when he assaulted me? Your job was to bring him in for that assault. Do you have problems with following orders, Agent Church?”
From Jill to Agent Church. She narrowed her eyes. “No, I don’t.”
“Then why haven’t you been following them?”
“Matt, you’re way off base on this—”
”Agent Church,” Gray said, taking a step closer to her. “Did I or did I not give you a direct order to keep him in the dark and keep him out of the way?”
Exact words, she thought. “Yes, that was what you said.”
“And did you?”
“I evaluated Agent Stillwater’s suggestions, decided they had merit and pursued them, while keeping Agent Stillwater with me, so I would, quote, ‘keep him out of the way.’ unquote. I did my job, Matt. This guy’s an expert on biological and chemical warfare and terrorism. He was in Tokyo after the Aum Shinrikyo attacks. Believe it or not, he does know what he’s doing.”
“Did I or did I not give you a direct order to arrest him for assault after his attack on me?”
She didn’t respond.
“I can’t hear you.” Gray’s expression was ugly.
“Yes,” she said through clenched teeth.
“Yes, what, Agent Church?”
“Yes. You ordered me to get Agent Stillwater, bring him back in handcuffs and arrest him for assaulting a federal agent. You implied, and perhaps ordered me directly, to deliver him to a holding cell at the Federal Building until today’s events were completed.”
“And did you?”
She raised her chin. “I did not. I did not deem it necessary. As a matter of fact, Matt, I decided that arresting Derek Stillwater would be counterproductive in our efforts to stop The Serpent f
rom killing more people.”
“Instead,” he said, “you returned with him here, uncuffed, supplied him with crutches and allowed him to wander into a potential crime scene un-escorted.”
Again, she didn’t respond.
“Am I correct, Agent Church?”
She nodded. “Yes. Those are the facts without interpretation or context.”
A sneer crossed Gray’s face. “And,” he said, “I would like to know if you had a warrant when you entered the home of Rebecca Harrington?”
She tensed. “No. I did not. But—”
”But?”
“I was acting on a tip.”
“Who supplied this tip?”
She hesitated. “Agent Derek Stillwater.”
“To your knowledge, did Agent Stillwater have a warrant when he entered Rebecca Harrington’s house?”
“No. To the best of my knowledge, he did not.”
Gray stared at her.
In a soft, menacing voice, Gray said, “Did Stillwater have a warrant to enter William Harrington’s office at the Health Center?”
“No.”
“How about for William Harrington’s house?”
Jill shook her head.
Gray nodded. He looked around, then waved over Roger Kandling, who was talking to Mary Linzey. He approached. “Yes, sir?”
“Agent Kandling,” Gray said. “I have relieved Agent Church of active duty. She is on indefinite suspension without pay pending a review. You have witnessed this.”
Kandling nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Gray turned back to Jill. “Agent Church, you are to return to the Federal Building, type up your statements and leave them with Janice to give to me. I will schedule you for a hearing and inform you of the conditions of your suspension.”
“Are you crazy—”
”Agent Kandling,” Gray said. “Please escort Agent Church from the vicinity. If she resists, cuff her and place her under arrest. Do you understand?”
Kandling’s expression was unreadable. “Yes, sir.”
Jill looked at the two men, then spun on her heel and walked away.
66
4:27 p.m.
MARY LINZEY HAD BEEN watching the entire exchange between the woman FBI agent, Matt Gray and Roger Kandling. She had also seen the altercation between Matt Gray and the DHS agent, which was why she’d been questioning Kandling. Kandling hadn’t been willing to be taped, but he had been very willing to give her information as an “informed source.” When the female agent moved away, Kandling conferred momentarily with Gray, then began to walk away.
She hurried after him. “Agent Kandling?”
He turned to her, a small, tight smile on his face. “Yes, Ms. Linzey?”
“Who was that agent, the woman back there?”
Kandling studied her. “Special Agent Jillian Church.”
“She and SAC Gray seemed to be arguing.”
He waited, not responding.
“Were they?” she asked.
“Agent Church has been suspended indefinitely.”
“Why?”
“Insubordination,” he said. Kandling paused. “Colluding with a possible suspect. Improper procedures.”
“Colluding with a possible suspect?” Linzey had her tape recorder clutched in her hand. “And who is the possible suspect?”
Kandling frowned, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “Turn off the recorder, please.”
Linzey clicked it off. “What?”
“Agent Church has been working closely with Agent Derek Stillwater. But there have been definite procedural breaches—even laws broken—by the both of them today. It is for these that Agent Church has been suspended.”
Mary Linzey clicked her tape recorder back on, wishing this were on camera. “Is Derek Stillwater a suspect?”
Kandling said, “Agent Derek Stillwater, with the Department of Homeland Security, has been conducting an investigation independently of the Bureau. Some of Agent Stillwater’s actions are questionable at the very least, and may even be illegal. It is under investigation, as is Agent Stillwater, for events today and from the events of last month in Washington, D.C.”
“Is Agent Church also being investigated?”
Kandling said, “Special Agent Jillian Church has been working closely with DHS Agent Derek Stillwater today, and both of them are believed to have conducted themselves in a matter not approved by the Federal Bureau of Investigation, the Justice Department, or the Department of Homeland Security. They are both being investigated for their unprofessional conduct today.”
He turned to walk away, but Linzey said, “One more question.”
Kandling nodded.
“Isn’t it true that Agent Stillwater and Agent Church were the people who called the alarm here at the Greektown Casino?”
“Yes. They did.”
“Is it a false alarm?”
“It appears to be a false alarm,” Kandling said. “And Agents Stillwater and Church will be investigated for this, as well. Their behavior seems self-aggrandizing at the very least. It is possible they are trying to glamorize themselves at this time of crisis.”
She thrust the tape recorder toward him again. “So in the future, if they do something similar?”
Kandling hesitated. “Agents Church and Stillwater are no longer with the investigation into The Serpent and the sarin gas killings in any official capacity. Any statements either agent should make to the media or any other members of law enforcement should be verified with the proper authorities and treated with the highest level of skepticism.” With a curt nod, Kandling turned and slipped into the crowd.
67
4:42 p.m.
DEREK EXITED THE CASINO, sluiced off under their make-shift shower and slipped back into his street clothes, thinking that he needed a real shower, food and some rest. He was sticky with sweat and felt sure that he reeked.
The crowd had thinned while he had been wasting time inside, and dusk was starting, turning the gray day even gloomier. He hadn’t found anything, and the size of the place was causing problems in their search. And because it was a casino, there were a lot of areas that were only accessible by employees and required keyed and coded entrance. It was taking forever to search because they needed the casino security’s help, and they weren’t trained for working in the suits.
Derek had decided he was wasting his time and left it up to the Detroit Fire Department’s Haz-Mat Team and the HMRU to figure out what was going on in there.
He looked around for Jill and didn’t see her. He had no desire to talk to Matt Gray again. Or ever, for that matter. He decided to find her car and check his e-mail and get hold of General Johnston.
When he finally hobbled around the corner to where Jill had left her car, he found her pacing back and forth on the sidewalk, everything about her expression and body language indicating anger.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“I got sacked.”
“What?”
“Matt benched me. I’m suspended without pay.” She continued pacing, expression fierce. “Dammit, Stillwater. This could have been avoided.”
“Let’s go talk to him,” Derek said. “This isn’t a good time to thin his people.”
Jill turned on him. “Oh bullshit! You’re half the problem. I never should have gone along with this. Look Stillwater, I could deal with the so-called insubordination issues. Matt threw that in because I was supposed to contain you, then after you punched him out I was supposed to arrest you. It’s all bullshit, and he knows it. He can’t get me on the containment issue because it’s a crock. You were doing your job, and even the Attorney General would agree that there’s no cause for locking you out, at least not when you first got here. That’s an internal issue that’s out of our hands. As for arresting you for beating on Matt, he’s crazy if he thinks that sending one of three witnesses who saw you punch him to arrest you makes procedural sense. But he’s got me cold on the illegal search and seizure.”
&
nbsp; Derek sighed. “Look, I’m sorry. I just do what I think has to be done.”
“Give it a rest, Stillwater.”
He leaned on the crutches and closed his eyes for a moment. “Derek,” he said.
“Don’t get all sentimental on me.”
“Gee, just when I was starting to feel all warm and fuzzy about our relationship. What’s next, Church?”
“I don’t know.”
“Are you going home?”
“I’m supposed to go back to the office, type up my reports and report back tomorrow for details.”
Derek stepped closer. “I need your help.”
“That’s why I’m in this situation, Stillwater! Didn’t you hear me? I’m out. Benched. Sacked. Sidelined. Persona non grata. I’m a civilian, now.”
“Good. Now you can help me without answering to Gray. I can really use your help. I don’t know the area and I can’t really drive with my leg all screwed up like this.”
She stared at him. “You’re unbelievable, you know that? You push me into the deep end, then toss me a cement block! What, you want me to lose my job for good?”
Derek said nothing.
“The answer is no!” she snapped.
“Okay,” Derek said with a shrug. “I’ll get my gear. I’ll get a cab or something.”
He limped over to the trunk of her car. They both turned when someone shouted, “There’s a body in the parking garage!” The crowd seemed to move like an animal, taking on its own life, shifting toward the new catastrophe. The media were like the animal’s teeth, leading the way, charging for the parking garage.
Derek said, “You mind hanging around for a while until I check this out? Then I’ll get my gear.”
“I’m coming with you.” She clenched her jaw in a determined expression.
Derek studied her. “You sure?”
She hesitated, then: “Yes. I’m sure.”
They looked into each other’s eyes. “Okay,” Derek said. “Good.”
68
4:55 p.m.
IT WAS ON THE top floor of the parking garage a block from the Greektown Casino. The vehicle was a green and tan Subaru Outback. It was parked behind a pillar, in shadow.
