The Safe Bet

by Brittney Sahin

She’d never been inside Henry’s home, but she’d dropped him off one time when he got sloshed after work. The man had become like a father to her, and she’d insisted he take a break from work for his birthday last month. They went for a few drinks, and a few for him turned into about seven gin and tonics. That was the only time she’d ever witnessed Henry’s brain work at even a slightly reduced level.

  Even then, you couldn’t forget that he was a genius. A mad scientist, even. The man was her idol.

  And now he was missing.

  She jerked at the handle of her car and hopped inside. Henry’s place was only five minutes away. She pushed the little red sedan to its limits on the highway, not giving a damn about the police.

  As she came to a stop in front of his townhome, Ava noticed his silver town car was missing, and she doubted it was in the garage. He has to be here, though. He just has to be. It was already past eight in the morning.

  As she walked to his front door, the Maryland sun helped ease the balance of the cooler-than-normal September air. Prickly bumps of unease raced over her skin as her fist pounded on his door. She rubbed her hands over her arms before ringing the bell a few times.

  Peering up at the pale blue shutters of the windows on the top floor, she wondered, hoped, that he was inside—and that everything was okay.

  As she was about to ring the bell again, Ava caught sight of someone exiting the neighboring townhome. “Excuse me!” she called, hurrying over, her hand waving in the air.

  The old woman crinkled her brow and pulled a small cat close to her chest. Was she afraid of her? Seriously? “Ma’am? Have you seen Henry? He lives next door, and I’m worried about him.”

  The woman studied Ava for a moment, her dark brown eyes taking in every inch of her. “I never see him. I didn’t even know his name, to be honest. He’s never home.”

  Of course not. He practically lives at the lab. Before Ava had a chance to speak again, the woman grabbed her newspaper from off her walkway and returned to her house.

  Desperate, Ava tried Henry’s door one more time, shaking on the handle a bit to see if she could get in. But finally, she knew that it was time to face the music.

  She had to go to Aberdeen. She had to report to Homeland Security.

  *

  Ava stared at the security guard. He was a beast of a man—a cross between an NFL linebacker and the Hulk. She wondered what he was thinking as he squinted in her direction, his forehead wrinkling as his shoulders arched back. His gaze screamed total disapproval.

  “I’m sorry, but you aren’t in the system. I can’t let you in.”

  “What do you mean I’m not on the list? I’m a government employee. Until six months ago, I came in to work here every day.” His eyebrow seemed to query what she had been up to the last six months. “Does Tom still work here? He knows me.” She tried to remain calm, pressing her hands against her sides as if to slow her heartbeat with the strength of their pressure. She didn’t want him to sense the fact that panic and fear had planted root in her body, entangling every inch of her.

  “No, he’s not here, and it doesn’t make any difference. You’re not getting in.”

  No! She couldn’t back down. “I’m not leaving until I talk with Director Frank Harris. Please, this is a matter of national security.” She rubbed her sweaty palms against her hoodie and reached for the zipper, feeling suddenly too hot.

  The guard cocked his head to the side and reached for a phone. “I have an Ava Daniels here, requesting to see Mr. Harris,” he said with a deep voice, studying the name on her ID badge.

  Thank God. Ava’s patience level was somewhere between zero and nuclear as she waited for him to hang up.

  “Someone will be down in a moment.”

  She bit back an “I told you so” and, instead, nodded and took a seat on the black bench near the metal detector, draping her hoodie on her lap. She watched as the minutes ticked by on the digital wall clock across from her, trying not to think about how Henry could be falling into greater danger with every passing moment. She attempted to fight back the steady stream of scenarios that crowded her mind. Her heartbeat grew louder in her ears as fear gripped coldly at her insides. What if terrorists had infiltrated the lab? Dressed in black, because why wouldn’t they be? They’d grabbed Henry, tortured him for information, and wiped away all evidence before going after Kat and Eddie . . . because Henry wouldn’t betray his country. No, they’d have to kill him first.

  She blanched at the thought.

  But surely they would have come after me, too?

  But perhaps they had, only to find her gone. She’d crashed at Becca’s hotel in Baltimore last night.

  “Ava Daniels?”

  She squinted at the middle-aged man, wondering if something was wrong with her eyesight. “You aren’t Frank Harris.”

  He ran a hand over his smooth jaw before extending it in her direction. “I’m Alex Jeffrey. Frank Harris is no longer working here.”

  She blinked a few times before examining his outstretched hand. She stood up and clasped his as she inhaled a deep breath. “Who are you?”

  “His replacement. The director of this division of Homeland.”

  She pressed her lips together in a straight line. Can you be trusted?

  “We need to talk.”

  “I gathered as much.” He motioned for her to follow him.

  After completing her security check, she followed the stranger to the elevators and forced down the lump in her throat. “What happened to Frank?” she asked as they waited for the elevator doors to open.

  “He was promoted about the time you switched positions.”

  “So, you know who I am?” Ava asked while stepping into the elevator. “Why was my security clearance to this facility revoked?” She pulled the black hoodie through the loose fist of her left hand, and then switched and pulled it through the right.

  “It wasn’t revoked. Just changed.”

  “To what?”

  Alex Jeffrey held his arm out after the elevator doors chimed open, offering her the exit. “We’ll talk about everything in a moment.”

  Just breathe, Ava reminded herself. She followed him through a maze of hallways, passing closed doors and a few men in uniform. Although Ava had worked in the building before, she had spent most of her time in the lab. The only time she remembered coming to this floor was during the interview process. It had been a very long and exhaustive process, even though they had recruited her.

  “Would you like some water, Miss Daniels?”

  Her throat was parched, but for some reason, she answered, “No.” She watched as Alex sat behind a massive desk, and then she took a seat in the leather chair across from him.

  “Please, tell me what brings you here today.”

  His voice was a bit too casual. But was that because he knew what had happened in the lab, or because he didn’t have a clue?

  There should have been an alarm.

  Unless the lab hadn’t been attacked at all.

  Ava’s brain sizzled. She needed answers. But how much was she allowed to divulge?

  “Miss Daniels?”

  His deep southern voice pulled her up for air, and she wet her lips before gulping. “What do you know about me? About my project?”

  He leaned forward in his chair and cocked his head before clasping his hands on the desk. “You’re working on a classified assignment that is so classified no personnel even knows the location of your lab.”

  He raised his eyebrows at her, and she saw something in his dark green eyes . . . akin to curiosity, perhaps.

  “You’re working under the leadership of Henry Davidson. And, because you are technically not working for the CSAC anymore, your clearance to this facility,” he gestured both hands, palms up, “is on hold.”

  CSAC—the Chemical Security Analysis Center. “Of course I’m working for the CSAC. Who else would I be working for?”

  She stared at Alex Jeffrey, who stared right back at her with his lips pa
rted.

  “Ava?”

  She realized she hadn’t spoken—her voice wouldn’t work.

  She stood up and walked toward the only window in his room. She looked out at the base down below, following a pair of soldiers as they walked to another building nearby. Why didn’t I just take the job at Revlon?

  “What’s wrong?” His voice was laced with a seriousness that wasn’t there earlier.

  She turned around to face him, and her eyes flashed to meet his. “I signed a document six months ago that directly states I’m not allowed to divulge anything about what I do at the lab.” She had rehearsed the statement, never believing that she’d need it. She sucked in a deep breath and tried to calm her nerves. “But my boss is missing. And the lab—the lab is empty. Like Clorox bleach empty.” She shook her head in disbelief. “I think something happened to Henry. And the other lab assistants. I can’t get ahold of anyone.”

  Alex rubbed the back of his neck before standing. “We should go to the lab.”

  “I can’t show you where it is. I—I signed that document.” The orders had come from the White House, surely a higher power than Alex Jeffrey.

  “That’s inconsequential at this point, don’t you think? This is a matter of national security.”

  She forced a nod. Of course he was right. Who else did she have to go to? The president? She almost laughed at the thought. Of course it wasn’t funny. Not really.

  Before she could respond, her shoulders jerked upright at the sound of banging on the door. But Director Jeffrey didn’t get a chance to answer. The knob turned, and two men with cropped hair and black matching suits strode through. Their attention laser-focused on Ava. “We have orders to escort Miss Ava Daniels,” one of them said once he reached her side.

  She could smell the minty freshness of the man’s breath. “Who are you?”

  “Where to? What’s this about?” The sudden lines in Director Jeffrey’s face exposed the fact that he was closer to fifty than she realized.

  The other man handed paperwork to the director. “That’s classified, sir,” he responded with a deep, throaty voice.

  “Miss Daniels?” The man at her side placed his hand on her forearm and tilted his head at the door.

  She averted her attention to Mr. Jeffrey, biting her lip in a silent plea. If anyone could help her, he could, right?

  His lips parted, but no sound escaped, as the two men rushed her out of the office so fast that she didn’t even have time to grab her hoodie from the chair.

  Ava retracted her arm from the man’s grasp. “I can walk on my own.”

  Once outside, goosebumps formed on her bare arms at the sight of the black SUV waiting at the curb, its dark tinted windows leering sinisterly.

  The largest of the men shoved Ava into the backseat of the SUV. “What the hell?” Something dark covered her head, through which only a pinprick of light shone. Briefly, she wondered what had been written on that sheet of paper, as metal pressed against her wrists.

  Handcuffs? Seriously?

  Ch 2

  The man removed the bag from Ava’s head, and his eyes lingered far too long on her chest while leaning forward to unlock her cuffs.

  “Was that necessary?” Static from the bag had her hair clinging to her face. She smoothed a hand over the stray hairs and rubbed her wrists.

  “Wait here,” he said with a voice that could have chilled Orlando on a summer day.

  “Like I have a choice?” She leaned back in her chair, trying to assume a casual demeanor, but before she could even fake relaxation her gaze was drawn to a man in the doorway. He looked a few decades older than her age of twenty-eight. He was above average in height, about six two, and his chocolate brown eyes were anything but warm. The weathered look of his tanned skin and neatly trimmed brown hair gave her the vibe he’d spent time in the military.

  “Miss Daniels, I apologize if you suffered any discomfort during your transport here. This location is top secret, and it’s not safe for anyone outside of the agency to know about it. The precautions were taken with your safety in mind.” The mystery man traced the lines of his black blazer lapels with long, thick fingers before taking a seat at the table in front of Ava.

  Ava straightened in her chair and tried to keep her voice steady. “I understand secrets. I work for Homeland Security.” The words fell from her lips at a slow pace. “What agency is this? Is this a division of Homeland?”

  The man tilted his head as he narrowed his eyes at her.

  Ava swallowed, feeling minuscule in the large and almost empty room. The walls were bright, like the silver of a tin can, and she shrank from them as though they might peel back at any moment.

  “What can you tell me about last night?” The man’s hands slipped to his lap as he studied Ava.

  He’d dodged her question, but she was too afraid to press the issue. The interrogator, if that’s what he was, appeared casual, but there was something about him that terrified her. Ava concentrated on the table, thinking about what to say. She was stalling. She couldn’t tell her interrogator what had happened last night. She doubted he had clearance to her project.

  “Miss Daniels?”

  She glanced up at him from beneath long lashes. The man’s brown eyes beheld her blue ones, and at that moment, Ava thought, I’m screwed.

  “I can’t tell you anything. I’ve signed government orders . . .” Her voice was shakier than a landslide.

  “Ava.”

  She brought her hand to her lips and bit her thumbnail—unprofessional, yes. But none of this was professional, she reasoned.

  “Ava, your orders came from us. The president placed our team in charge of your assignment at the lab.”

  “I need proof.” Her words echoed her convictions; she was proud to hear them. “I won’t say anything without proof.” Judging by the small smile that teased the corners of the man’s mouth, he approved Ava’s firm stance. After a moment, he rose and left the room.

  When he returned, he had a folder in hand. “Here.” He slid it across the table, and Ava rested her hand on it. Part of her didn’t want to see its contents. Fear trickled through her body, but she peeled away the layers of anxiety just enough to steady her hand.

  “Your signature is on the document, as you can see.” He cocked his head to the left just a little and smirked.

  She grimaced. You’re an arrogant SOB, aren’t you? She pulled her gaze away from him and scanned the thick packet of papers. They were the same set of documents she had signed before starting her project, six months ago. All the non-disclosures and confidential agreements—the same familiar black ink that covered half the words throughout the document was still there, hiding whatever the government didn’t want her to know.

  She pinched the bridge of her nose and shut her eyes. She needed to think.

  “Ava?” The man’s icy voice caused her eyes to snap open. “What is it that you’re not telling me?”

  The man crossed his arms and remained standing near the table, staring down at her, waiting for Ava to speak.

  “You have cameras at the lab. Shouldn’t you be telling me what happened?” The rebelliousness in Ava’s voice surprised even her. She reached for a loose strand of her brownish-blonde hair and twisted it as apprehension coiled inside her like a snake.

  “Of course we have cameras. They were disabled last night. And so were the alarms.”

  “At what time?” When Ava realized he wasn’t going to answer her question, she averted her eyes and kept them trained on the table, afraid he’d notice a lie on her face.

  “Ava?”

  She slouched her shoulders forward; she had no intention of telling him everything—how could she? She might get Henry in trouble. But she’d say just enough to help Henry if she could.

  “Henry and I were alone at the lab. We’re the only ones who work on Sunday nights. Henry insisted I go out with a friend of mine who was in town, visiting.” She stole a glimpse of the man from the corner of her eye, but hi
s face revealed nothing. “I left around eight for Baltimore. Henry stayed at the lab until midnight most nights. He was very dedicated.” Her heart thundered in her chest—the sound of its beating traveled to her ears like a dozen stallions pounding the ground all around her.

  Ava flinched at the sudden opening of the door. A tall and fit woman with silver-gray hair took a few steps inside the room. Ava thought her age to be somewhere above fifty, although she had none of the characteristics that Ava associated with women of that age. She was sharp, her green eyes bright as the edge of a knife. And the look she was giving the man made even Ava’s hairs stand up on her arms.

  Good for her. Ava didn’t like him, either.

  “I need a word. Now,” the woman snapped, and Ava’s skin puckered at the sound of her voice.

  “I’ll be right back,” the man said as he started for the door.

  Ava heard him mumble a few words to the woman before the door swung shut. Among them were “Syria” and “terrorism.” Not the greatest things to hear. Ava tapped her fingers on the table, her body burning with impatience. Nervous energy wrung her tighter than a corset.

  “I’m sorry about that.” Ava focused on the eyes of the mystery man after he entered the room—alone. Too bad. She would have preferred the ice queen.

  This time, the man removed his blazer and slipped it over the back of the chair before sitting down. He pressed his large hands on the desk and stared into her eyes. She wondered what response this new approach was intended to elicit.

  “Someone managed to cut the alarm and video feeds without triggering a response last night,” he rumbled. “Henry is supposed to check in every hour while at the lab. It’s protocol, as I’m sure you’re aware. When he didn’t check in, a team was dispatched to the location.” He pushed his hands against his black slacks and squinted at Ava as if the sun were in his eyes, but there were no windows in the room.

  “Was the place empty when you got there?” It was hard for her to believe that the lab could have been wiped spotless of furniture and all that equipment within one hour. What in God’s name had happened?

  “Was Henry acting suspicious at all, lately? Did he do anything out of the norm? What was his mood like, these last few weeks?” The man rattled off questions so fast Ava could barely hear him.