by Linda Hawley
“What goes around, comes around,” Joe said with a grim smile.
“Yes.”
“I’m happy you said that. I’ll ensure he gets what is rightfully his.”
Lulu barked.
“I think she agrees,” I remarked, looking at her.
Joe got back to the business ahead of us.
“It’ll take about five minutes, and Paul will start acting a little loose, so be prepared for that. I’ll click my watch’s timer when I hear him come in the front door. At 12 to 15 minutes, he’ll be ready for the next phase…”
“How can I tell he’s ready for you?”
“Every subject is different. If he starts blabbing about this and that without censoring anything, that’s one sign. You’ll know in your gut that he’s acting differently than his normal mode. When he gets to that point, tell Sinéad to unlock the door to the garage, and I’ll come out. When I approach the couch, introduce me like I’m a friend that just stopped by. Call me Frank. He won’t even really care that I’m there. I’ll immediately give him a shot I’ve got ready, and then we’ll go from there.”
“Okay. Sounds easy enough. What if something goes wrong?”
“If anything goes wrong, tell Sinéad to unlock the door to the garage, and I’ll come out immediately and Taser him. Any way you slice this, Paul’s gonna answer some questions for us tonight.”
“Okay. What are Chow and Edwin doing?”
“In case Paul brings peekers, then Chow and Edwin will eliminate them as a threat if they hang around. By the time we leave here tonight, no one unfriendly will be waiting outside.”
“Good.”
“Why don’t we talk about the interrogation questions you have? I’ve already made a list of what GOG wants me to ask,” he said, pulling out a spiral binder.
We went over my questions, and Joe wrote them down in his binder. We were ready with quite a bit of time to spare, so I made us a huge dinner, cooking up a number of dishes with ingredients I had throughout the kitchen. I certainly wouldn’t be needing them anymore. Joe, Lulu, and I had a farewell feast.
I was leaving my home tonight, never to return.
Chapter 19
BELLINGHAM, WASHINGTON
The Year 2015
When I heard Paul’s BMW pull up at the curb at five after seven, I immediately washed my hands with Joe’s solution on the counter, pulled the transdermal freckle out of the package, and put it on my index finger.
The doorbell rang. After taking a deep breath, I opened the door fully and stood at the back of it, far into the foyer.
“Hello,” he wore a mild smile.
“Hi,” I said, forcing a sincere smile. “Come on in,” I invited him, gesturing with my hand.
He entered and tried to reach for me, but I forced the door closed first. Then I reached for him. He embraced me snug, and I wrapped my arm around the back of his head and placed my loaded index finger on the side of his neck. I held him as long as he wanted, to reduce suspicion. Lulu was at my feet, and Paul ignored her.
“I’ve missed you,” he said to my hair.
I whispered in his ear, “It seems like it’s been a very long time.”
We unwound from one another, and I led him to the couch by his hand.
“Wow, look at all that food you made for me!” He grinned gratefully at me as we passed the kitchen.
You wish.
We sat down side by side, facing one another. I noticed that his hand was reaching toward his neck, where I had placed the transdermal freckle.
Oh crap.
I reached up and put my hands on his neck and pulled him to me—the only thing I could think of to distract him. I passionately kissed him, and he responded. When I was sure I had his full attention, I slowly peeled away from him. It had been a few minutes since I had placed the patch.
“I guess you did miss me,” he said, wanting more.
“It does seem like a long time. So tell me what’s been going on at AlterHydro?”
“AlterHydro…oh brother…what a nightmare.”
“Why?” I asked, feigning innocence.
“You didn’t hear?”
“Hear what?”
“Bennett’s dead.”
“Yes. I heard that,” I said flatly, then remained silent, waiting for his next words.
He looked at me curiously, with silence.
I continued smugly, “Interesting that a wave capsized him, and he didn’t right himself, considering he was an expert kayaker.”
“You know, Ann, I’m a little cold. Maybe we could make some tea? Maybe I’m coming down with something?” he said, clearing his throat and reaching for his neck again.
I took both his hands in mine and put them around me, saying smoothly, “I know how to warm you up.”
“Mmm, body heat,” he purred.
“Maybe it’ll make you feel better,” I said, with a seductive voice.
He pushed himself up against me. He was feeling much better, and it repulsed me.
Just hold on for another few minutes, Ann, I coached myself.
I decided to remain in that position as long as possible without saying anything. After a few minutes of silence, I felt Paul’s weight slump into me like he was starting to fall asleep. I waited another minute, and he grew heavier.
“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 like 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, 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, 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 lunged my way, grabbing me by the throat with both hands, 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 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 like 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, letting 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.”
