Dangerous in Motion

by Sidney Bristol

  Adam had a bad feeling about where all of this was going.

  He returned to Heidi’s room with haste, almost jogging to get there quicker. He opened the door and ducked inside, the bags banging against the locker that did double duty as a closet.

  “Holy Shit. Adam.”

  He turned and stared at Heidi standing at the tiny sink in her yoga pants and bra clutching the basin glaring at him.

  “What are you doing on your feet?” He dropped the bags and took a step toward her.

  “I smell. I’m gross. I want a shower,” she whined.

  The only facilities he’d seen were communal. With her feet torn up, he wasn’t about to let her off on her own to bathe. Besides, standing in those showers would get God only knew what in the cuts on her feet.

  “Sit.” He pointed at the bed.

  “I’m not a dog.”

  “Sit, please?”

  Heidi glared at him for a moment longer then turned and hobbled the three steps to the bed.

  Did she have to be so stubborn?

  He’d do whatever she needed.

  He picked up the sopping wet washrag in the sink and ran it under the tap, rinsing it out then wringing the excess water from the fabric. He sat on the bed next to Heidi. Her chest and stomach glistened from moisture.

  “My back, please?” She twisted to face away from him.

  Adam ran the cloth across her shoulders and down her back. He remembered hurried showers together while their parents were out. Then later in hotel bathrooms. They’d never been quite big enough, which usually resulted in one or both of them getting elbowed or slipping.

  “Remember that one time you got soap in my eye?” he asked.

  “At your parents house? Oh, God. You grabbed the shower rod and put a hole through the wall. I couldn’t stop laughing.”

  Adam chuckled while he studied the pattern of freckles and moles across her shoulders. He finished washing her back then rinsed the rag out.

  “They washed my calves and feet pretty well. I guess I’m good for now, at least until I can have a nice soak at home. Are they really sending us home?” she asked.

  “Yeah, we’ll leave first thing tomorrow for Atlanta.” And from there the circus would start. With any luck, Zain or Abigail would have more to tell them. He doubted the Admiral would get involved. The old man was slowly winding down after a lifetime of service.

  “What happens then?” she asked.

  “Don’t know yet.” He draped the rag over the side of the sink then dried his hands.

  He wasn’t ready to divulge the danger they were possibly headed into. Not after what Heidi went through last night.

  “There’s still a few changes of clothes in here.” Adam grabbed the bags and set them on the foot of the bed.

  “You are an angel.” Heidi grabbed the bag and pulled it toward her. She selected a shirt then pants.

  Adam found somewhere else to look while she redressed in clean clothes.

  Instead of sitting, she took another step toward him and grasped his arm, her little fingers pressing against his wrist.

  “Can we talk? I mean, really talk?” Heidi bit her lip.

  “What’s on your mind? Sit. You don’t need to be standing.”

  He pushed their things aside and sat on the edge of the bed with her, their hands clasped. Heidi stared at the ground, which might have worried him if she wasn’t hanging on so tight.

  “I don’t entirely remember last night, but there’s enough of it that stuck with me that... I’m sorry for what I said. All of it.”

  “You were feverish, but that doesn’t mean there wasn’t any truth in what you were saying.”

  “I didn’t know what I was saying—”

  “Heidi, we both know I hurt you when I left without any way to contact me. I could have done a lot of things better. Maybe we wouldn’t be here now if I had?”

  “Why did you tell your parents to not let me write to you? I understood we couldn’t call all the time that you were usually in dangerous areas where that wasn’t possible—but you didn’t even let me write. Why?”

  “Because you needed to be focused on school, not me. That was stupid, I know.”

  “You know I got the addresses for where you were? I couldn’t bring myself to send you anything though. I kept thinking he doesn’t want to hear from me.”

  Adam winced and rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb.

  “I’m not perfect. I know I messed us up as much as you did. I’m hot tempered. I run away from my problems.” She lowered her head. “I’m just like my dad.”

  “What? Wait. No. Heidi, you’re nothing like your dad.” Adam reached over and cupped Heidi’s chin. How could she ever see herself like that?

  “We both have a stranglehold on the person we love. Dad couldn’t let Mom go...”

  Adam swallowed down his horror. In what world did she see herself like that man?

  Heidi’s father was a controlling bastard. Yes, Adam thought Heidi’s mom should have left a long time ago for her own good. Hell, she should have taken Heidi with her. Maybe Heidi would have had a better future without her dad—and Adam in it.

  Adam scooped Heidi up and set her on his lap. She hunched in on herself as though she could ball up into that same little person he’d found huddled between the hedges that first day they’d met.

  “We’re not perfect, Heidi. I’ll give you that, but you aren’t your father. He was a sick man, and what he did was horrible. You are nothing like him. You’re kind. You care about people. Maybe more than others because of what you’ve been through.” He squeezed her a bit tighter and kissed the top of her head.

  “But the things I said...”

  “Were true. At some point in the last few years. We’ve done a lot of hurting each other while thinking we were both doing what was best. I thought you wanted space, and you thought I didn’t want to be with you.”

  “I wanted us to work out.” She sniffled. “I mean, I know you thought it was a convenient solution for us to get married and all, but I really wanted it to work out. I thought that we might be done with breaking up and making up and all that.”

  “I’d like to put that behind us now.”

  “Me, too.” Heidi finally lifted her chin and stared at him. Tears clung to her lashes.

  This whole time, all they’d wanted was to be together, but they’d let things that didn’t matter keep them apart.

  THURSDAY. DOBBINS AIR Force Base, Marietta, Georgia.

  Léo leaned against the car and tilted his head toward the radio.

  Crane hadn’t said much to him since Mumbai, which was normal. He wasn’t a talkative man, but Léo had hoped for some feedback from the hints he’d dropped while in India. Because Julie had stuck with them, he hadn’t had a chance to talk to Crane bluntly. Léo would like some assurance that when the time came to broach the topic of sidelining the boss, Léo would have help. This crazy plot today only proved what Léo was saying.

  The radio crackled with another rapid report from someone on the tarmac. The weekend airmen had to be confused.

  The base was mostly manned with reservists. According to the boss, the transport was making a special stop here courtesy of the CDC’s request to return their people. On any other day, this might be a routine drop off.

  The chatter on the short wave radios had picked up with at least a dozen different people speaking in code. Léo didn’t understand most of it, but he didn’t need to. The boss had already texted him the pertinent details.

  “Hey, Léo? First responders are being alerted.” Crane leaned out of the window and gestured at his radio.

  “Good. It sounds like everyone on board is infected .” Léo was merely following the boss’ orders for now. This was his plan after all. Léo was merely the helping hands. If this failed, it would only serve as another example of why the boss had to take a step back.

  “Listen.” Crane waved at Léo.

  He leaned through the window to better hear the di
spatch channel.

  “Everyone on board is sick. There’s two CDC doctors on board. They’re doing what they can, but... Send someone. Anyone. Please?”

  “Is everyone still on the plane? Has anyone else come into contact with the passengers?”

  “No, the doctors on board were very clear about that.”

  Léo chuckled before he could stop himself. When the boss was good, he was really good.

  After some back and forth, dispatch let the radio controller know that help was on the way.

  “That’s our cue.” Léo tapped his knuckles on the top of the car.

  Crane got out and popped the trunk. They pulled out two standard green jumpsuits and slid them on over their clothes.

  In the distance sirens wailed, coming closer.

  Léo pulled a service gate open while Crane waved the first responders down.

  One by one they turned onto the air strip.

  The name of the game was confusion now. They had to keep the questions going so they could slip in and out undetected.

  Léo grabbed the back of the last ambulance as it turned and stepped onto the wide, rear fender. Crane jogged to catch up and hitch a ride. Inside, the paramedic frowned at them.

  The poor guy had no idea what was about to happen.

  The landing crew around the fat bird of a plane was enough to grab the attention of the medical responders. What medical support the base had appeared to be on hand already, but this was a far bigger job.

  The ambulance eased to a stop and Léo stepped off. The doors swung open, and the paramedics prepared to move out.

  “Stay inside,” Léo said.

  “What’s going on? We were—”

  He drew his weapon from his jumpsuit while Crane took care of the driver.

  “When I want to hear you speak, I’ll tell you to talk.” Léo stepped into the back of the ambulance and closed the doors.

  The ambulance lurched, and all eyes went to the front of the vehicle.

  A few drops of blood were splattered against the glass.

  The back opened and Crane stepped in and unzipped his jumpsuit.

  “Hands.” Léo took a step of handcuffs from the interior pocket of his suit and used them to bind the hands of the two men together.

  Once the two men were secure, Léo stripped back out of his jumpsuit, already dressed for the role. The imitation paramedic uniforms were fairly easy to obtain.

  “How do we look?” Léo asked the two bound men.

  “I think they’re scared,” Crane said.

  “I’m not even the scary one. You boys sit tight and we’ll go get your patients.” Léo nodded at Crane. “Come on, let’s go get the boss.”

  They grabbed the stretcher and wheeled it out, keeping their heads down. A man in fatigues directed the first responders while the patients were helped off the plane.

  That was their first mistake.

  If Léo wasn’t vaccinated against this particular strain, he wouldn’t want to be in the same country.

  A tall gentleman with graying hair helped a smaller woman down the stairs and onto the tarmac. Léo rolled the stretcher up to them. Cindy and John, right on time.

  “She’s not showing symptoms, but she’s passed out twice,” John said.

  “We’ll take care of her.” Léo helped John put Cindy on the stretcher. “Follow us, sir?”

  The four made their way back to the ambulance all while paramedics raced around with no clear idea what to do. With any luck the confusion would continue to hold sway for another few minutes.

  Léo glanced at the two. Everything was going according to the plan for now. He didn’t want to bet on how long that would last.

  FRIDAY. HARTSFIELD–JACKSON Atlanta International Airport, Georgia.

  Adam gently set Heidi in the provided wheelchair on the tarmac at the ATL airport. Confused Airmen clustered on the pavement, none the wiser about why the hell they were here.

  Their flight had been diverted from the local Air Force base to the commercial airport without explanation. Adam feared what was coming next. Though the initial plan was for just their team to depart, all the passengers were directed to exit after them.

  “What’s going on?” Heidi asked him while crouched at her side.

  “No idea, yet. Everything’s going to be fine.” Eventually. Adam kept that last word to himself.

  “Well hell,” Kyle muttered and nodded at the golf cart headed their way.

  “That can’t be good.” Grant stood shoulder to shoulder with Adam as the cart stopped.

  Abigail and a man wearing a windbreaker with the letters F-B-I printed on the chest got off.

  “What exactly did you get us involved with?” Riley asked in his slow drawl.

  Abigail didn’t so much as glance at him. The former Mossad agent was cool under pressure, but there were cracks in her mask.

  “Kyle, you’re relieved.” Abigail handed him a paper folder that looked an awful lot like the kind airplane tickets were distributed in. “Go home. Be with your dad.”

  “I just got the text.” Kyle took the envelope. “He passed.”

  Fuck.

  Adam swallowed and glanced at his Team Leader.

  “I’m sorry. Go. Zain will have everything lined up for you.” Abigail patted Kyle on the shoulder. “This cart will take you to be checked out, then a connecting flight.”

  “Checked out?” Heidi said.

  Abigail finally turned to them. “A lot has happened, but first everyone needs to be checked and go through a health screening. They wanted to quarantine the whole plane, but we managed to talk the CDC down off that ledge.”

  “What the hell happened?” Heidi glanced up at Adam, then the others. “What about Cindy and John?”

  “This is Supervisory Special Agent Brooks. We’ve worked with his unit before.” Abigail nodded at the blond man next to her.

  “I thought you were after serial killers and violent crimes?” Grant asked.

  “That’s why I’m here.” Brooks’ expression was grim. Tight lips. Tense. Things were not good.

  “Let’s walk and talk,” Abigail said, leading the way. “Brooks?”

  “The plane with the two doctors came in on yesterday barely managed its landing. Everyone on board was sick. Best we can tell is that Cindy and John got in an ambulance and that truck drove off but not to any hospital. Police found it abandoned a few miles away, with both Cindy and John missing. The paramedics had the same sickness, but died before they were found.” Ryan pulled out his phone and showed them a snippet of video. All they could see was four people getting into an ambulance and leaving.

  “We were right.” Heidi twisted to look up at him. “One of them is the mole. One of them is who Léo works with.”

  “Where are we going now?” Grant asked.

  “We’ve set up a joint CDC-FBI-DOJ task force out of the CDC offices. Given your first hand experience with the suspect, we’re anxious to get your take on everything,” Brooks said.

  “Who exactly do you think is responsible?” Heidi asked

  “We need to have this conversation later.” Brooks glanced over his shoulder.

  Adam and the others were rushed through a quick medical screening. The medical staff on hand did everything from blood samples, stare down their throats, have them cough into bags and pee in cups before clearing their team to circumvent the airport and exit to the curbside pickup where a black SUV waited to drive them across the city.

  Neither Abigail or Brooks gave them any further information about who or what they were up against until they passed through the glass doors of the CDC and up beyond the security clearance area. People were obviously not looking at them and finding other places to be.

  Adam had always thought about visiting Heidi at work sometime, but never under these circumstances.

  They were led into an upstairs suite where a lot of people wearing badges and carrying guns were busy leaning over maps, tablets and talking in tense tones.

  �
�In here.” Brooks led them into a conference room.

  Pictures of bodies were stuck to the wall. A few new faces sat around the table, but none glanced up at them.

  “You’ve got an interesting decorator,” Riley said.

  “Sit,” Grant barked.

  Adam ignored the other two men and Abigail, keeping his focus on Heidi. She was all that mattered right now.

  “In a few moments representatives of the CDC and DOJ are going to arrive and we have to show them something.” Brooks placed his hand on a folder sitting on the table. “My predecessor passed along five open cases that he couldn’t solve. One of those was for what we thought was a mercy killer.”

  “Mercy killer?” Riley sat across from them at the table, leaning dangerously back in an armchair.

  “Someone who kills to put someone out of their misery,” Heidi said.

  “Exactly.” Brooks nodded at her. “Around 2000 one of those perps went dormant and we couldn’t figure out why. Five years ago we found several dead in a warehouse. They appeared to have died from a disease we couldn’t identify. The only place that contagion was ever seen before was...”

  “Your hand-me-down killer?” Heidi asked. “You think Cindy or John is that person?”

  “And they’ve gone to a larger scale.” Brooks gestured at the wall. “Based on how some victims were handled, we believe John isn’t the mole. He’s our suspect.”

  HEIDI STARED AT SSR Brooks.

  They couldn’t be right. John was the sweetest man on the planet. He wouldn’t hurt a fly, much less kill people. He had to be wrong. It was Cindy. It had to be her.

  “It can’t be John,” Heidi blurted.

  “We have evidence that proves otherwise.” Brooks pulled out a chair and sat.

  “We understand this is difficult,” the woman called Abigail said.

  “I don’t fucking believe you. John is a sweet, old man. He couldn’t be the mole much less a murderer. I don’t believe you. The man I’ve worked with—he couldn’t do this. If you have to paint a bull’s eye on him to a bunch of other people, first you need to prove it to me. I’ve known him since I was hired here and I promise you, it’s not John.” She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. It couldn’t be John. She could see Cindy, maybe, but John? There was no way.