Two Evils

by Christina Moore

  “Becks, Eddie is dead,” Darren said quietly.

  “What?” she replied, blinking rapidly. “No. No he’s not. No he’s not.”

  Color was quickly draining from her face, and Billie moved to help her sit. Gabe beat her to it, however, taking Rebecca by the shoulders and pushing her to step backward. She backed into one of the dining chairs and dropped into it heavily.

  Gabe got down on one knee before her. “I am so sorry, honey, but it’s true. He died almost a week ago.”

  Tears sprang to Rebecca’s eyes. “No… No! Why… Why are you telling me this?! If it’s true, why didn’t I get a visit from a chaplain?! What about my mother?!”

  Gabe grabbed her shaking hands in his as Billie said, “We suspect that the reason no one’s told your family is because there are extenuating circumstances surrounding Eddie’s death.”

  “Well that’s bullshit! What kind of extenuating circumstances? How the fuck did this happen?!” she demanded tearfully.

  Billie looked to Darren and Gabe, and between the three of them they explained about the experiment. They explained that they believed IQ-56 to be faulty in some way, having side effects that had led to Eddie having a psychotic episode in which he had killed a doctor and an orderly, and had gravely injured a third person before base personnel were forced to gun him down. They explained why, following their teammate’s death, Gabe, Darren, and Wayne had gone UA in the hope of not suffering the same fate.

  “Unfortunately,” Darren concluded, “going on the run didn’t stop it from happening again—Col. Scofield was also affected. He had an episode while we were hiding in Ohio and he shot me in the shoulder. Billie and John were forced to wrestle him under control.”

  “Eddie… Eddie’s really dead?” Rebecca asked.

  “I’m afraid so, kiddo,” Gabe said softly. When she began to sob, he opened his arms for her to fall into, cradling her head on his shoulder with one hand and rubbing her back with the other.

  Billie looked over at Darren. “Where is Wayne?”

  Darren tore his pain-filled gaze away from Gabe and Rebecca. “In one of the bedrooms. He started freaking out again not long after you guys left. Presley and Green handcuffed him to the bed, for his safety and ours. Presley is with him now.”

  Gabe looked up at her over Rebecca’s head. “I don’t get this shit at all. How come it’s done what it did to Eddie and Wayne, but not me and Darren?”

  “You guys haven’t felt in the least bit twitchy?” Billie asked.

  Both confirmed they had not. It was then that John’s cell phone beeped in his pocket; he pulled it out and checked what she assumed was a text message.

  “I believe we have the answer to that question now,” he said, lifting his gaze and looking each in the eye. “This message from Rex says Dr. Stone called him with the preliminary results of the blood tests. Without a sample of IQ-56 to use for comparison she can’t be certain, but Stone suspects Wayne’s psychosis is a result of narcotic deprivation, and that the serum must be one of those chemicals where the effects are intensified by withdrawal. She also said that you guys were clean and only Wayne’s sample showed any sort of abnormalities.”

  Darren scowled. “What are you saying—that Gabe and I never even got that shit?” he demanded angrily. “How is that even possible? We got two daily injections same as Wayne and Eddie did. We did the same workouts, took the same physical exams, the same stress tests…”

  “Were you ever informed of the results?” Billie asked. “Did Wainright or Hernandez ever tell you if your scores were improving?”

  “Come to think of it, not really,” Gabe said. “I mean, we’d ask, and they said everything looked very promising. Said we were all doing very well.”

  “Did you feel any different?” John pressed.

  “Felt stronger, sure,” said Darren. “And I honestly thought I was hearing better. Seeing better. Thought I was remembering things better too. Getting smarter, like we were told we would.”

  “It’s the placebo effect,” said a sniffling Rebecca. She sat up straight then, brushing absently at Gabe’s shoulder with one hand as she wiped at her face with the other. “Happens all the time in laboratory testing of pharmaceuticals. It’s called a control study when some patients are given the actual drug and some are given sugar pills or some other placebo. No one except the doctors know who is actually getting the medicine and who isn’t, so all the patients tend to react as if they are.”

  “Because they think they are,” Billie mused. “Or they want to believe they are. Makes an odd kind of sense if you think about it.”

  Rebecca sniffled again, then looked up at her. “You said earlier that you needed me. What can I do?”

  “It may possibly involve putting yourself at risk, Becky,” Billie warned.

  “Then she’s not doing it,” Gabe said as he stood. “Whatever crazy plan you’ve got up your sleeve, She-Devil, forget it.”

  “Excuse me, Major, but I think the decision is mine to make,” Rebecca said as she, too, got back to her feet. To Billie, she said, “What is it that you think I can help you with?”

  Gabe turned away from her and threw his hands up in exasperation. Billie fought annoyance as she said, “You work at the Pentagon. General Wainright also works at the Pentagon. What you told us about your job cemented the idea I had—we need you to look into his files.”

  “Captain, I told you that I would need his passcode and clearance to get into his files,” Rebecca reminded her.

  “Actually, you might only need the password to sign onto his computer,” John pointed out. “We’re thinking that whatever he’s hiding isn’t necessarily going to be tied to anything official.”

  “Okay, fine. But assuming I could even figure out his passcode, what makes you think the files are on his office computer and not a home unit?” Rebecca challenged.

  Billie looked at her and sighed. “It’s all we’ve got at this point. We need to find out something—anything—that explains why he would cover up three deaths.”

  “Wait, the general is married, right?” Gabe asked. “One reason he might keep stuff at the office instead of at home is if he doesn’t want to chance Mrs. General accidently coming across something he doesn’t want her to see.”

  “Such as anything having to do with his illegal activities,” Darren added.

  “And you really think General Wainright is up to no good?” Rebecca asked.

  Nodding, Billie said, “He has to be hiding something. It’s the only thing that makes sense, when you consider that nobody but a handful of people know that Eddie or the men he killed in his disturbed state are dead.”

  Rebecca wobbled and returned to the chair she’d sat in, bracing her elbow on the edge of the table and lowering her head into her hand. “I am finding it very hard to accept that you’re using my brother’s name and the words ‘he killed’ in the same sentence.”

  Gabe turned back to her. “Becky, Eddie wasn’t himself when that happened. He’s not responsible for his actions.”

  When she looked up at him, Billie could see she was fighting a fresh wave of tears. “What am I going to tell our mother? This is going to break her heart.”

  “You can’t say anything to your mom right now,” Gabe said. When Rebecca looked about to protest, he held up his hand. “I know you want to, and believe me I wish you could—she deserves to know more than anyone. But if you tell her she’s going to start asking questions, and that’s going to kick up a shit storm, and there’s every chance that Wainright will use your brother as a scapegoat in order to block anyone from finding out what he’s up to. I won’t have that bastard branding Eddie a murderer.”

  “He’s already done it once,” Billie spoke up, causing Darren and Gabe’s heads to whip in her direction.

  “Say what?” Gabe questioned angrily.

  “She’s right,” John told him. “When I took Billie to meet Gen. Wainright for the first time, she told him she intended to see that Maj. Lamacek’s family got
his benefits and that he was given a full honors burial. He replied that murderers don’t get any honors.”

  “Well that’s bullshit, man!” Darren exploded.

  Agent Presley walked into the room just then. “Excuse me,” he said, clearing his throat, “but Col. Scofield is… Well, he’s a little more coherent now. He’d like to know what’s going on.”

  Gabe stared at the man hard, then sighed and said, “Tell him Darren and I will be there in a minute.”

  Presley nodded and retreated—rather quickly, Billie noted.

  “I hate to say this,” John said slowly, “but we’re not going to be able to do anything tonight.”

  “Yeah,” added Rebecca. “I need time… To think, to figure out how I’m going to get into Wainright’s office. How I’m going to get his computer password…”

  Her first instinct was to protest—she’d been through hell already and she just wanted to get this mess over with. But Billie knew that good things came only to those who waited, and she wasn’t the only one who’d been dealt a hard blow today. Rebecca had just learned that her beloved older brother was dead and it was only reasonable that she be given some time to process her loss, especially if they wanted her help—she’d need to be able to operate with a clear head.

  And then there was her own family crisis… Kevin was probably undergoing surgery right that moment. He could have…

  No. She wasn’t going to go there. Kevin was a Ryan. He was tough, and resilient, and he would pull through. He had to.

  With a small sigh, Billie looked to Rebecca and said, “I am sorry that you had to find out like this. I hope you’ll believe that none of us were comfortable with keeping you in the dark.”

  The look Rebecca offered her was sad. “Something tells me I’d still be in the dark if you didn’t need me, and to be perfectly honest I almost wish you didn’t. Ignorance is bliss, as they say, and I could have gone a few more days believing my brother was alive and well.”

  She stood then, drew a breath and released it. And Billie noticed that she stood just a little bit straighter. Good for you, Marine, she thought. Eddie would be so proud.

  “But at the same time, I’m glad you need me. Because now I know that something awful has happened to Eddie and that the people responsible are trying to get away with it. They need to pay for what they’ve done, and the lifetime of service my brother gave to this country deserves to be honored, not ignored or thrown away like it never happened. I intend to see to both.”

  “Good for you, sister,” Darren said resolutely.

  After saying their goodbyes, Billie, John, and Rebecca made their way back out to the Charger. Back on the road there was silence except for John asking softly if they needed to return to the Pentagon for a vehicle. Rebecca had shaken her head and informed him that she took the bus to work, getting off at the Pentagon Metro Station. So they took her straight home, where Billie walked her up to the door and the two women held each other for a long moment before Rebecca closed herself inside.

  Once she returned to the car, she knew John would not have to ask where she wanted to go. And he didn’t—he simply drove her to Georgetown University Hospital, where her family awaited her.

  When they arrived on the surgical floor, Billie headed straight for the waiting room; Teddy rose and threw his arms around her the moment she walked in.

  “Any news?” she asked when he released her.

  Her father dragged his hand over his face tiredly. “Kevin is still in surgery. They’re repairing the damage the bullet caused.”

  “It punctured a lung, but didn’t hit any major blood vessels or anything, which is good news,” Teddy added. “Unfortunately, they said that there’s a risk of infection in his lung and swelling around his spine, because it…it went through kinda close.”

  Billie felt blood rush to her head and began to sway. She fought a surge of memories from being in this very room just over a year ago, hearing similar news. Only with Travis the news had actually been much, much worse.

  A warm hand at the small of her back brought her back to the here and now. John’s concerned gaze was oddly comforting, and she turned into his embrace without thinking. Strong arms wrapped around her shoulders, keeping her steady on her feet. After a moment he turned her toward a chair and gently forced her to sit. She leaned her head on his shoulder and fought the urge to give in to her despair, reminding herself that Kevin was a Ryan and that he would be all right.

  Andy returned around nightfall as predicted, and he was not alone. His fiancée Michelle had accompanied him back, and Billie was at last able to meet the woman who had captured her brother’s heart. Her father’s lady friend, Stella, had also come to the hospital to be with the family. Billie realized that instead of feeling stifled she appreciated that these two women, not yet a part of their family, had given up their evening to lend their support. Thomas actually seemed to be holding up even better now that Stella was there to hold his hand, and Billie couldn’t be more grateful that he had her. He and Andy both seemed to be handling things a lot better with a strong woman by their side, and she wondered briefly if she’d ever find someone again who would offer her the same unwavering support.

  Then she felt a warm, strong hand take hers and give it a gentle squeeze. She looked up to find John looking down at her with a small smile, and suddenly it was as if she were a blind person seeing for the very first time. Sitting right next to her was someone offering her the steadfast assurance she saw Stella and Michelle giving to her father and brother—without having to be asked. He could easily have just dropped her off at the door and gone home, but instead he had walked inside with her, he had held her, had sat beside her as they waited for news of Kevin’s condition. John was giving her the support any good friend would give, and she knew that he would give her even more if only she would open herself up to it.

  Billie still didn’t think she was quite ready to offer her heart again, but she knew then that she no longer believed herself incapable of doing so someday. She had John to thank for that, and found herself hoping that when this was over they could remain on good terms.

  After what seemed an interminably long wait, a doctor came in to report that Kevin had made it through the surgery. He had, he told them grimly, coded once, but they had managed to revive him. The bullet had punctured a hole in his lung, but the damage had been repaired and the lung re-inflated. They’d also had to transfuse more than two pints of blood. He was still in recovery and would be moved to a room in ICU in a few minutes, as he was stable but still considered critical.

  “We have him on a ventilator for now to help with lung function,” the doctor said. “The next twenty-four hours are going to be essential to his recovery—he needs rest most of all. We’re going to keep Kevin sedated for the time being, but tomorrow we’ll wean him off the ventilator to see how his lung works on its own. If everything looks good then, we’ll take him off sedation and see how things go. I’ll send a nurse to let you know when we’ve got him settled in a room so you can go see him.”

  Thomas thanked the doctor profusely, shaking his hand firmly before the other man left. He then turned to Stella and wrapped his arms around her, sighing in relief.

  “You want to take a walk with me?” John asked quietly.

  “Yeah,” Billie replied. “I could use some fresh air.”

  Informing her family that she’d be back shortly, Billie allowed John to lead her out of the waiting room. Minutes later they were in the parking lot leaning on the hood of the Charger.

  “I don’t think I can tell you how scared I was that Kevin wouldn’t make it,” she said, wrapping her arms around herself.

  “You didn’t have to,” John replied simply. “I could see what a struggle it was for you in there. Couldn’t have been easy given how Travis was killed.”

  Billie nodded. “It wasn’t easy for me to be in the same room where another doctor told me that they weren’t able to save Travis. I kept telling myself that Kevin would pull
through, that there was just no way the universe would make me go through that hell twice.”

  She looked up at him then. “Thank you, by the way, for sticking around. It means a lot to me.”

  John looked into her eyes for a moment and then nodded. “You’re welcome. What are friends for if not a shoulder to lean on?”

  She grinned lightly. “So we’re friends now?” she couldn’t help teasing him.

  “Well…” he said, drawing the word out. “You did hold a gun to my head a couple of times, and you’ve threatened to kill me more than once. You also tried to kick my ass twice. The fact that the most dangerous woman in the world did all that and let me live must mean that she likes me, at least a little bit.”

  Billie chuckled. “The fact that you fucked her not just once but twice—and lived to tell the tale—means she likes you a lot.”

  John laughed. “At least I did something right.”

  Laughing with him, Billie gave him a shoulder bump, which he returned. As their mirth settled, John sighed softly. “So what are we going to do about the good general?”

  Billie snorted. “I’ve got no clue, to be honest with you. I really hate having to drag Becky into this mess, but she’s the only person with even a remote chance of getting into the general’s office—I’d do it myself if I could, but I can’t just waltz in there like I own the place. I can’t even wear my gun in there.”

  “Yeah, either one of us just walking in the door would have security keeping an eye on us,” John agreed. He then looked down at her with a serious expression. “Billie, what if this plan doesn’t work? What if, even if Rebecca can get into Wainright’s office, she doesn’t find anything?”

  She shrugged. “I know I should consider the possibility, but I sure as hell don’t want to. I don’t want to have to turn the guys in—I’d never be able to forgive myself.”

  “We don’t even know for sure if anything would happen to them if you did,” John pointed out.

  “Technically no, but… My gut tells me that Wainright would push to resume testing IQ-56, and that this time around, they’d all get it. Their refusal to cooperate could be construed in any number of ways, and the general could hold them indefinitely. Or he could charge them with refusing to follow a direct order. Whatever bullshit reason he comes up with, he’d make their lives hell. And they could hardly go to the brass without concrete evidence—it’ll just be their word against his, and he’s a fucking brigadier general.