by M. C. Miller
“A man by the name of Oliver Ross has been arrested. You might have heard.”
“It’s in the news.”
“He’s being held at a military base in Kansas but sources tell me there are plans to run him through Topeka courts for processing. For the last year I’ve had him on assignment. As it turns out, he was working for a competitor, one who’d like nothing more than see me implicated and exposed in ways I can’t go into. This man must not testify. He needs to disappear. Under the circumstances, suicide seems appropriate.”
Hannah’s silence returned.
“Regarding the fee – I’m prepared to be appropriately generous.” Labon twisted his neck to look back at her. “So, what do you think?”
Hannah stood. “It doesn’t matter to me either way.”
Labon turned back to the view. “I’m glad you feel that way.”
“There are other details to work out…”
“Yes, but right now I need to get back to the U.N. I’ll make reservations at Megu for 8 o’clock. We’ll do it then. We can go down from here.”
“Very well.” Hannah started to leave but midway in the foyer turned back with a sudden thought. “You said we had company. Care to explain?”
Labon leaned close. “Remember the name – Isabella Bayner.”
Confused, Hannah furrowed her brow.
“Just do it – in case we need it.” Smoothing back a strand of hair from her face, he added with a sneer, “What better alibi for an old man’s wickedness than more of the same.”
Hannah made it to the front door before Labon stopped her.
“Let me know about Noah as soon as you find out.”
After a nod, she was gone. Labon steadied himself with a breath. The task had completed quicker than he had imagined. It was time to shift back into the world of PEACE. On the way to the master bedroom, he unbuttoned his collar and loosened his tie. For all concerned, it was time to appear satisfied and relaxed, even if the rising impulse was anything but.
He opened the bedroom door to find Isabella lounging on the bed, reading. The image of her there was suggestive of everything and nothing. Energized by the meeting with Hannah, he was ready to entertain the wildest of possibilities. Anything seemed possible. Something powerfully new within him felt dominant and commanding. How could ordering the death of a man make one feel more vigorously alive? The sense of it was so unlike the morning spent at his conference. In stark clarity, Labon knew – in taking action he had became more potent and prevailing.
“Quite a comfortable spot, isn’t it?” He approached the bed.
Isabella turned over and started to get up but on impulse he was upon her. Startled and resisting at first, she succumbed to touches in hidden places. They rolled together and became a tangle of force and submission, joy and pain.
Labon never intended to take her that way, that’s what he told himself. Her visit was meant only as a suggestive alibi to cover his time with Hannah. But there was no stability in playing it safe any more. Events out of his control had redefined his equilibrium.
As he climaxed into her, he felt the restraining part of himself slipping away.
Anything was possible – when nothing mattered either way.
Chapter 29
Capitol Building
Washington, D.C.
The promise of early afternoon languished, trapped under a mid-January pall. Rushing onto the steps of the Capitol, another news crew jockeyed into position for their live remote broadcast. Restive but determined to complete business in one take, a bundled-up reporter shivered and glanced back at the soaring dome. Camera and sound setup were lagging and his impatience showed. Any distraction helped take his mind off last minute concerns of losing his edge.
“What’s up? Did they sweep the streets? Where’d the protesters go?”
“Too cold for them.”
“Just when you need them…”
“It’s time for their union break.”
The field producer took up position next to the camera. She pointed at the reporter. “All right, ready – three, two, one…”
Lifting microphone, the reporter spoke to the world.
“Once again we report from outside Senate chambers where today a second week of testimony began in a special closed-door session. Hearings were hastily organized two weeks ago when public outage erupted over the vulnerability of one of the nation’s most sensitive biodefense sites. Oliver Ross, a research scientist working at the National Bio and Agro-Defense Facility in Manhattan, Kansas, was arrested on New Year’s Eve while making preparations to release a deadly virus targeting poultry. His motives for attempting such an outrageous act are still unclear. How this plot was uncovered is also unknown. For national security reasons, authorities and Senators at these hearings are keeping silent until testimony concludes and the official report is released. Exactly who might be on the witness list is a topic of continuing speculation. Senate spokespersons have given few statements but all of them have reiterated Congress’ determination to investigate thoroughly, prosecute where necessary, and pass appropriate legislation to ensure nothing like this can happen again…”
A lanky man in a gray suit jogged up the steps, passing the news crew. At his side was a slim attaché case. In his ear, a transceiver. In his coat pocket waited a prepared statement, a list of talking points, and a falsified business card. On it, his name was listed as Richard Gains. Today’s occupation: attorney.
Richard Gains breezed through security and headed straightaway for subcommittee hearing chambers. The hall was a tangle of staffers, aides to the Senators, and plains-clothed guards. One official photographer busied herself framing strategic shots of selected history. No one was allowed in chambers while the hearing was in session except appointed Senators, testifying witnesses, their counsel, and the official stenographer and videographer.
Richard Gains had somehow timed it perfectly. He approached a pair of doorway sentries and showed ID. A stern woman holding the agenda noted an entry for him on the official calendar and allowed passage. He said nothing to anyone. The guard cracked open the door and allowed him to slip into chambers.
In contrast to everything outside, the hearing room was deathly calm and silent. For such a large room, it was sparsely populated. Elsewhere, so much stillness and quiet might have been relaxing. In chambers, the effect was opposite.
Richard Gains casually wound his way to the witness table and settled in behind one of the microphones. With a quick glance he noted six of eight Senators in place behind an elevated bench. Most were distracted reading notes or leaning back into hushed conversations with assistants. Two others stood mumbling to each other at the far end of the panel.
A corner door opened and in stepped the sergeant-at-arms. Following him were two special agents and a woman immediately recognizable by the tracking bracelet around her ankle. Agents led her to the witness table.
Gains stood and presented her with his business card.
“Ms. Insworth, I’ve been assigned to assist you today.”
Janis read the card but hesitated to sit. “Assigned? By whom?”
Mr. Gains turned on the charm. “As you’re aware, these proceedings are under oath. Since you didn’t retain counsel, I’ve been assigned.”
“It’s an odd time to let me know. We’ve never spoken.”
Gains sat down. “I know this is rushed. It couldn’t be helped.”
“What can you do for me now? The hearing’s about to start.” Janis sat down.
Leaning closer, Gains whispered. “We both know they made access to you impossible. But that didn’t stop me from doing some research.”
“On what?”
A gavel sounded. The chairman called proceedings to order. Preliminary business was entered into the record. Ordered to stand with raised hand, Janis was sworn in.
Senator Delane leaned closer to his mike, eager to commence business.
“Mr. Chairman, in light of our extended morning session, I move that
relevant exhibits be entered into the current record pursuant to standard rules of evidence.”
“So ordered.”
“If I may, I’d like to start off with a statement and a few questions. I believe they will drive clear to the central issue before us this afternoon.”
“Hearing no objections, you may proceed.”
Delane took his time shedding half-height glasses before staring down at the witness table.
“How could a madman bring us to the brink of a global tragedy? That’s why we’re here. The question may seem rhetorical but left unanswered, we risk too much.”
Janis swept the faces of the Senators, looking for reaction. Concerns about Eugene Mass jumped to mind. She was not prepared for the frustration that followed.
“Oliver Ross is an aberration – but a dangerous one. So far in these proceedings we’ve managed to firmly establish the obvious – guarding against madness will always be an inexact science.”
The Senator picked up the pace with tempestuous vigor. “But if we believe Ms. Insworth’s statement to federal agents after being arrested, by concentrating on Oliver Ross, we are missing a truly maniacal conspiracy of epic proportions. She’d have us redirect our attention to a shadowy plan to murder six billion people. Details of this plan are purportedly on a laptop found illegally in her possession. And what did Ms. Insworth do when she discovered such evil plans? Did she contact the authorities? No. But classified files were added to that laptop. Those files appeared at the same time a corporate computer network was illegally breached. And where did Ms. Insworth go after those classified files were obtained? Marseille, to meet with a minion of New Class Order.”
Exasperated, Richard Gains jerked towards his microphone.
The chairman raised a hand. “You’ll have your chance, counselor.”
Senator Delane skipped a beat. “…the fact is, Ms. Insworth’s convoluted claims are a facile diversion, concocted in an attempt to draw our attention from a far more personal and embarrassing truth. She would like nothing more than see this committee spend days untangling all the deceit and misdirection swirling around her. Above all, she craves attention. Is it any surprise? Passed over for the Nobel Prize, traumatized by the deaths of both people in her love triangle, shaken by the kidnapping of her daughter – no wonder she desperately reaches out for attention, for someone to notice her pain and help her.”
Fidgeting, Janis glared back at the Senator.
Gains grabbed her by the arm, holding her back.
Senator Delane consulted his notes. “Ms. Insworth, to be brief, I would like to established for the record a few relevant facts. How did you come into possession of the laptop?”
Janis caught her breath to steady herself. Refusing to be provoked, she felt time to set things right grew short. The fate of so much turned on a single word.
“Malcolm Stowe asked me to keep it for him.”
“Ah-huh, Malcolm was a security agent for NovoSenectus, was he not?”
“Yes.”
“Didn’t you think it strange that a top security agent for a global biotech company would hand you his work computer?”
“Not after he showed me what was on it. He was worried certain information would be found in his possession and they’d take it away before he had a chance to act.”
“Of all the people at NovoSenectus, why do you think he’d approach you with something so delicate? Was it because you shared a love with the two of them – him and Riya?”
Janis erupted. “What evidence do you have of that? Those are rumors started by New Class Order.”
“Why would they want to do that?”
“Probably because they think I set them up! Because they threatened to do the exact same thing if I didn’t cooperate with them.”
“Despite what you’d like us to believe, your associations within NovoSenectus were not all business. You admit you knew of Malcolm’s romantic relationship with your lab partner, Riya Basu?”
“Yes.”
“Were you aware he was also an agent of British Intelligence?”
“No.”
“Were you aware that Riya Basu had a Top Secret U.S. security clearance?”
“No.”
“Were you aware that Malcolm Stowe and Oliver Ross once knew each other, in fact, briefly worked together many years ago?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Did you know Oliver Ross was once employed by GeLixCo Corporation?”
“No.”
“You’ve testified in your deposition that it was Malcolm Stowe who first brought you evidence of a plot to collapse the world’s population.”
“That’s right.”
“You also claim to have seen a mysterious memo. In this critical memo, someone with initials EM orders a man named Javier to arrange for Oliver to trigger something in Manhattan, something called 3P.”
“Yes.”
“Is it possible the reference to ‘P’ in the memo might refer to poultry?”
“Not in context – no, I don’t believe so. The reference to 3P matches what other documents called 3rd Protocol.”
“Interesting. Did Malcolm show you this memo?”
“No, I found it later, in Marseille.”
“Found it? Is that what you call hacking into private computer networks? So you admit that Malcolm never saw the material you took from GeLixCo.”
“I’m not sure. We hadn’t gone over every document before he died.”
“I see. So chances are Malcolm Stowe never had anything to do with this memo. He never showed it to you. As far as you know, he knew nothing about it.”
“It was on his laptop, outside of the folders I had downloaded. I assumed he had seen it.”
“And if he had, don’t you think he would have mentioned it to you? It seems so damning a piece of evidence not to bring it up.”
“I don’t know. We were rushed. Maybe it was part of the second download.”
“The one you did – illegally.”
“I didn’t know what we had; I wanted to be sure before going public. Malcolm said the files were Riya’s. She wanted them exposed.”
“So she hides them in a classified storage area on a computer network owned by one of NovoSenctus’ main competitors. Is that what you expect us to believe?”
“She was passing them to her contact, someone named Senex.”
The Senator chuckled. “This is quite a spy thriller. Isn’t it convenient that the most damning piece of evidence was seen only by you. Who else might have seen it? Someone we can subpoena?”
“I don’t know.”
“It’s odd. Suddenly, there’s quite a bit you don’t know. For someone making serious allegations, implicating a head of a corporation in a bizarre scheme to intentionally create a pandemic, I should hope you would know more.”
Richard Gains engaged his mike. “Is there a point to this badgering? Some civility is in order; otherwise, I’ll advise my client to exercise her right to remain silent.”
The Senator turned the joust to his advantage. “Very well. The point is – no such memo has been found on Malcolm Stowe’s laptop.”
A bombshell hit Janis. More shocked than enraged, she turned to Gains.
Gains held her back. “That claim is hearsay. You’ve never entered the laptop into evidence.”
“We don’t need to. The French supplied us with complete forensics.”
“Precisely my point,” snapped Gains.
“Computer hardware is not in question here. All pertinent data is in record.”
“Have you properly vetted the French team that conducted the forensics?”
“Are you inferring the French are part of a conspiracy to deny us proper data?”
Gains sat square, prepared for battle. “Senator, I merely point out reasonable doubt. Given the seriousness of the crimes charged against Ms. Insworth, I suspect a jury might be persuaded to have similar doubts.”
Delane reacted casually. “Such a jury will be quite busy no
matter what was found on the laptop. Acting on intent to acquire secrets then trying to barter them to a terrorist group is more than enough to prosecute. And that’s before we get to Title 18, interstate flight, and obstruction of justice.”
The Chairman interrupted. “Let’s try to stay with substance here. Mr. Gains, you’ve entered a request to challenge an entry in the record. This might be a good time for that.”
“Thank you Mr. Chairman.” Out of a coat pocket came talking points.
Turning to Gains, Janis shielded the microphone with a hand.
“What are you doing?”
“My job.” For a few telling moments, Gains came out of character. Pressing closer to her, he whispered orders – both hers and his, “Now sit back. You’ve said enough. I need to get this into the record.”
Gain’s demeanor lay bare a sudden and disturbing impression. Janis sat back and absorbed what now seemed like a pageant play going on around her. The more she became aware of it, the more the situation felt strange. Certain things no longer were taken for granted. The proceedings abruptly felt staged.
Why was Senator Delane the only one engaging her? Who was Richard Gains? Why did their give-and-take seem forced? Weeks from now, when someone read back the printed testimony, exchanges between the two of them would appear combative, no doubt. But that wasn’t the feeling in the room. She’d swear they knew each other. She’d bet somehow others on the panel knew they were expected to ease back and let Delane do the talking.
And then there was the memo – how could they have missed it? Even if it was accidentally deleted off the laptop, surely they had followed up by investigating the computer storage at GeLixCo. They could have found it there.
Nothing made sense. All of them knew too much about things that didn’t matter – too little about things that did. Surrounded by unknown motivations, she sensed Gains was right about one thing – she had said enough. If nothing else was certain, the fact that her life was on the line came into focus.
Gains ignored Senator Delane and redirected his remarks to everyone else on the panel. “Mr. Chairman…Senators, the government can’t have it both ways. On one hand, my client has been portrayed as nothing more than a distraction, an attention seeker needing help. On the other hand, she’s being pursued with a litany of criminal charges as if she’s public enemy number one. The inconsistency boggles the mind. The only thing Janis Insworth is guilty of is being a desperate, caring mother – and being gullible.”
