by Linda Hawley
“Did you fall asleep?” I asked him in a normal voice, close to his ear.
No answer, no movement.
“Sinéad, unlock the door to the garage.”
“It’s unlocked,” she said.
Joe was quickly through the door, heading towards the couch.
He had the sedative in Paul’s carotid artery as soon as he reached the couch. Then he pulled Paul off me, while asking, “You okay, Ann?”
“Yeah. Thanks for getting the creep off me.”
I looked at Paul face up on the couch. “Oh, gross!” I said, seeing the huge wet urine spot on the front of his jeans.
“Looks like he can’t even hold his bladder,” Joe sneered in disgust.
“Does that happen often?”
“Only when medicating weasels.”
“It figures.”
“Have you washed your hands?”
“I didn’t have time with weasel-boy.”
“Go do it now,” he said urgently. “I’ll get his IV in,” he said, pulling Paul up to half lie/half sit on the sofa.
“Okay,” I said, moving to the kitchen. “Why did he fall asleep?”
“I haven’t a clue. There are variables.”
“Hmm,” I said while washing my hands in the solution.
By the time I returned to the sofa, Joe had Paul’s IV inserted.
“Now what?” I asked.
“I need to get him hooked up to the HBM-12, stabilize his meds, and then we can start the questions.”
“Is he gonna remember anything?”
“No. These drugs have amnesic properties. He won’t remember a thing.”
“That’s good news. When Paul moved his hand up to his neck toward the patch, I needed to stop him, so I kissed him. It was one of the most disgusting things I’ve ever done. I feel like I need to brush my teeth.”
Joe touched my arm in compassion. “I have a feeling we’ll get information from him tonight that will truly help GOG. You’re a trooper, Ann. You did a good job.”
I looked into Joe’s eyes and knew that he was telling me the truth. “Thank you.”
Within twenty minutes, Joe had the HBM-12 set up, his laptop ready, and Paul’s drugs stabilized. Then he started to come around.
I felt confident…and relieved, knowing his lips would never touch mine again.
“Welcome back, sleepy head,” I said to him.
“I guess I dozed off there a bit,” he replied with a slight slur.
“You were cold, so I put a hat on your head,” I said, playing my role.
He nodded.
“Remember my friend that stopped by?”
“Yeah, hi,” he said, giving a little wave with his hand.
This was not Paul’s normal behavior.
“I just wanted to ask you a few questions, okay, buddy?” Joe asked Paul.
“Yeah, sure,” Paul said with droopy eyes.
“Okay,” Joe said, looking at his computer screen.
I moved over to sit next to Joe, so that Paul would have both of us in his forward field of vision, and so I could see Joe’s laptop. I didn’t want him to move his head too much and affect the helmet’s sensors.
Lulu snuggled up at my feet.
Joe and I agreed that he would conduct the interrogation. He had his notebook of questions in front of him. The computer screen was open in front of him to monitor Paul’s reactions as he asked questions.
“Besides AlterHydro, who do you work for?” Joe began.
“I work for myself,” he responded, his words slurred.
“What type of work do you do for yourself?”
“I’m Ann’s boyfriend,” he said with a crooked smile.
I felt as if I had a rock in my gut.
“Let’s talk about Ann, okay?”
“Okay.”
“When you met Ann in Canada, what were you doing there?”
“I was there to spy on Ann’s meeting.”
“Who sent you there?”
“The people who pay me.”
“Who pays you?”
“Taxpayers.”
“So you work for the government?”
“I work for myself.”
“Do you work for a private government contractor?”
“No.”
“What’s the name of the government contractor?”
“I don’t know.”
“What’s the name of your contact there?”
“Where?”
“At the government contractor. Who is your contact there?”
“John.”
“What’s John’s last name?”
“Smith.”
Joe leaned toward me and whispered in my ear, “He just lied.”
I looked over at Joe’s computer screen, and the software displayed the following words in red: “False Statement.”
“Who else besides John do you work with at the government contractor?”
“Terry.”
“What’s Terry’s last name?”
“Thomassen.”
“What does Terry Thomassen do for the government contractor?”
“He’s a spy.”
“He’s a spy like you?”
“Yeah. Mean, too.”
“Is he meaner than you?”
“I’m not mean. I’m the boyfriend,” he said, his dopey smile returning.
The rock in my gut got bigger.
“Besides Terry Thomassen, who else do you work with at the contractor?”
“John.”
“What’s John’s last name?”
“Brown.”
I could see the red alert on Joe’s screen, showing the lie.
“Do you know John’s last name?”
“Nope.”
Joe nodded, and I saw the green word “Confirmed” on the screen.
“Do you know the name of the contractor you work for?”
“Nope.”
Joe nodded again.
So they’re keeping him isolated, I thought.
“Did you send Ann to Portland?”
“Nope.”
“Did someone else send her?”
“John did. I’m just the boyfriend.”
The rock in my gut was being replaced by anger towards the weasel.
“Why did John send Ann to Portland?”
“To turn her.”
“John sent Ann to Portland to see if they could turn her into a double agent for both GOG and the government?”
“Mmm hmm.”
“And what if they had not been able to turn her?”
“I dunno.”
“Who was supposed to meet Ann in Portland?”
“John and Terry.”
Joe nodded at me.
“Why did you go to work for AlterHydro?”
“It was a good cover.”
“Who at AlterHydro brought you in?”
“Brock.”
I knew it!
“How did you know Brock before you went to work for AlterHydro?”
“We did some jobs together.”
“Does Brock work for the Contractor?”
“Nope.”
Joe paused, clearly thinking something through.
“Does Brock work for the government?”
“Mmm hmm.”
“What branch of the government does Brock work for?”
“Huh?”
“What part of the government does Brock work for?”
“He works at AlterHydro.”
“If Brock works for the government, what organization does he work for?”
“Ops.”
“Do you mean CIA Clandestine Operations?”
“Yeah.”
Joe nodded, and I saw the green word on the screen. We now knew that Bennett’s brother was a CIA operative and that he and Paul worked together in clandestine operations.
“Does John work for Brock?” Joe asked, trying to put the puzzle together.
“Mmm hmm.”
“Did the CIA or your Contractor have anything to do
with Ann’s flight to Portland that nearly crashed?”
“No.”
I saw the green screen, confirming the truth, which relieved me.
So the storm caused me to be late, which saved me from being caught by CIA operatives, who were trying to turn me into a double agent. I breathed out, the tension leaving me a little.
“Why were John and Terry gone from the Botanical Gardens in Portland when Ann arrived?”
“They waited an hour, but when Ann didn’t show, they left.”
“Why is Ann so important to Brock and John?”
“She’s not important to Brock.”
“What is Ann to Brock?”
“Nothing. He wants Ann dead.”
I knew I never liked Brock.
“Why does Brock want Ann dead?”
“Because she’s a traitor to her country.” I noticed that Paul’s speech was starting to clear up.
“How do you know the GOG codes?” Joe asked, trying to steer Paul away from the subject that incensed him.
“I don’t remember.”
I saw the red letters on the computer screen.
“What was your intention by becoming Ann’s boyfriend?”
“I love her.”
I saw the haunting red letters yet again.
Joe leaned into me, whispering, “I need to get more sedation from the van. He’s coming out of this a little too soon. Keep him talking about nothing important. Keep him calm. I’ll be right back.”
I nodded, and then Joe popped up and was out the door leading to the garage in a flash, my eyes following him as I thought about what to say to Paul. The door quickly closed behind him.
I turned toward Paul on the sofa, just as he surprised me by popping off the helmet and lunging my way, grabbing me by the throat with both hands and knocking me backward. The back of my head hit the floor with a dull thud. Lulu reacted immediately to protect me, plunging into Paul’s arm, whose hands were cutting off my air supply as he straddled me. I was stunned, and time seemed to slow down.
“Where’s the GOG leader located?” Paul spat.
“I don’t know,” I barely croaked, starting to panic.
“How many GOG members are there?” he yelled, rage exploding with his spittle.
I realized that I was on my way out of this world, and my panic started to subside. As I began to lose consciousness, Joe barreled in the door, launching himself in the air towards Paul. He knocked him off me, which immediately released Paul’s hands from my neck, restoring my airflow.
Feeling the rush of air and blood, I rolled over, coughing painfully. “Lulu, kill,” I squeaked, pushing myself up off the floor and onto all four limbs.
Joe and Paul were wrestling on the living-room floor, and Lulu suddenly jumped in and went for Paul’s throat—a ball of snapping teeth and vicious snarls. Paul turned to try to push Lulu off, which opened a two-second window allowing Joe to stab the syringe into Paul’s neck.
He quickly fell unconscious.
“Call off Lulu.” Joe’s voice was gentle, firm, his knee in the center of Paul’s chest with all his weight behind it.
“Lulu, cease,” I whispered to her, still barely able to speak. Glass stabbed into my throat—it burned to breathe. I moved into a sitting position.
She released Paul and came to me. Lulu had pulled skin off Paul’s neck, and her fur was covered in blood. His IV had ripped out, and it was dripping blood onto the carpet as Paul lay limp.
“You okay?” Joe urgently pressed me, keeping his eyes on Paul as he sat on him.
“I’ll live,” I whispered, my throat on fire, as I looked over Lulu to make sure she was okay.
I heard something sharp and looked over to see Joe serving up knuckle crunches to Paul’s face, one right after the other. I had no desire to stop him. Then I heard a crack. Joe jumped off Paul and stood, holding his hand.
“You broke my finger!” Joe said angrily at the unconscious Paul, then reared back his leg and kicked him in the bollocks.
I watched the scene, detached, feeling my neck and looking at the man who nearly killed me, his nose a remnant of what it had once been. Lulu started to lick my neck compassionately. I patted her head, though I felt as if I could barely raise my arm.
“Are you really okay, Ann?” Joe asked, stepping over to me, his face askew. He gently moved my jaw up to look at my neck.
“Thanks for coming back when you did,” I whispered. It was causing me great pain to speak.
Joe went into the kitchen and brought me back a glass of water.
“Drink this very slowly, to let it soothe your throat.”
Nodding my head, I swallowed a few drops.
“It was Sinéad who saved you, Ann.”
“How?”
“Her voice came into the garage, telling me, ‘Ann is being attacked in the living room.’ I bolted out of the garage and was in here as fast as possible. If I had been a second later, I think you might have been unconscious.”
“Thank you, Sinéad,” I said quietly.
“I’m relieved you’re alive, Ann,” Sinéad told me.
“I’ve never heard her talk like that before.”
“Maybe she’s evolving,” he said seriously.
“How long’s he out?” I urgently whispered, nodding to Paul. I felt fearful of him.
“A few hours. I plunged in the full dose. He won’t harm you now,” Joe reassured me, rubbing my shoulder gently. “I’m sorry, Ann. I’ve never had a subject come out of sedation that fast.”
“It’s okay.”
“How’s your neck feel?”
“Sore. What’s it look like?”
“It looks like someone tried to kill you. I can even see his handprints.”
Joe extended his good hand to help me up from my sitting position. I rose, standing, a little shaky. Then he pulled me to him in an embrace.
“You’re too valuable to the world for me to let anything happen to you,” he quietly spoke into my hair. “It was my fault. I should have given him another shot earlier.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” I said simply, pulling away from him to look into his face.
“I think I definitely screwed up here,” Joe said guiltily, with pain in his voice.
“I can heal,” I said, patting him on the chest.
I slowly moved away to walk towards the kitchen. I wobbled and nearly fell, and Joe caught me with his good arm.
“Whoa there. Let’s get you on the couch.”
“Not the couch,” I said, repulsed by the memory of Paul sitting there.
Joe deposited me in a lounge chair. I sat there in silence.
Joe went to the kitchen freezer and made himself an ice pack, then wrapped it around his broken finger.
“Wet cloth?” I asked Joe, trying to keep my talking to a minimum.
Joe brought the wet cloth over. I reached down to Lulu, who hadn’t left my side. I needed to clean her up.
“I never suspected,” I said quietly to Joe as I cleaned the blood off Lulu’s fur. I couldn’t help the tears that fell from my eyes.
“He made you see what he wanted you to see,” Joe said, pulling up a chair to sit next to me. His eyes went to my neck. “You’ll have a nasty bruise across your neck. It almost looks like someone tried to hang you.”
My eyes snapped to him. “Just what I always wanted,” I said sarcastically.
Chapter 20
BELLINGHAM, WASHINGTON
The Year 2015
“We need to be silent until you get to the middle of the bay,” Joe said to me just before we entered the garage.
I nodded and then hugged him. “Thank you for everything.”
“Stay safe, Ann.”
I nodded and then looked sentimentally back into the house—viewing the home that had nurtured me.
“Thank you, Sinéad,” I said to my digital friend.
“You’re welcome, Ann. Stay safe,” she replied.
“I’ll do my best.”
Standing still f
or a moment, I looked over at Paul one last time. I was fleeing my house alive, no thanks to the man lying unconscious on my living-room floor, bleeding into the rug. I turned with disgust away from him.
Joe, Lulu, and I entered the garage, I threw my bags in Joe’s van, and Lulu and I jumped in the back.
“I’ll be right back,” Joe said as he closed the back doors, sealing us in the van.
I opened one of my bags and pulled out my Helly Hansen sailing shoes and put them on. I could see through the driver’s side window that Joe had entered the house again, and then as the garage door started to open for us, he opened the front car door and jumped in the driver’s seat. He had a smirk on his face.
Lulu and I sat in the back of Joe’s van without any windows; I couldn’t even see the house as we drove away for the last time. I hugged Lulu, grateful that she had protected me from Paul. She licked my neck, clearly aware of my injury.
“Good job, Killer,” I whispered as I ruffled her fur.
Twelve minutes later, we were parking in the Squalicum Harbor parking lot. Before we exited the van, Joe turned off all interior lights of the vehicle. It was late at night, and the marina was quiet. After Joe gave me the hand signal that we weren’t followed, he opened the driver’s door and then the barn doors in the back of the van to release us. Lulu started a low growl as Chow suddenly materialized out of thin air, startling me.
“Cease,” I told her quietly.
Chow put his hand on my arm to calm me. I guess I was a bit jumpy. He looked me over with a curious facial expression. We quickly grabbed my bags, and after entering the gate code, we made our way down the gangway to the floating dock, on our way to Woohoo’s slip. There was a bit of wind on this dark, moonless night.
It’s gonna be a bit choppy out there.
When we reached the slip, I quickly unplugged the power cable charging the sailboat’s battery bank and threw the extension cord on board as Chow huddled with Joe, speaking very quietly. I assumed that Joe was filling Chow in on the interrogation.
After I boarded, Chow passed Lulu to me, and then he joined us. I opened the companionway door, and Lulu jumped down while Joe passed my bags to Chow, who stored them below deck. Chow emerged from the cabin with a handful of foul-weather and safety gear for us both. He was also an experienced sailor and knew we would have some chop coming out of the bay.
Sitting on the cockpit cushion, I primed the motor and then flicked on the marine radio, turning to the channel for the harbormaster. After powering up the depth finder and navigation computer, I pushed the button to start the engine while Joe released the bow and aft lines, freeing the sloop into the night.
