Deadly Deception

by Tami Kidd

  “Will you keep me informed?”

  “I will.”

  “Thank you, Agent Carter, for everything.”

  Forty-Seven

  Reece Carter stretched out on the couch in his office. Going back to his apartment at such a late hour would be futile. The moment his eyes closed, his cell phone chirped. He groaned and considered not answering the call. Instead, he glanced at the display. Deputy Director Franks’s name lit up the screen. Ignoring Franks would be unwise. “Hello, sir,” Reece said, rubbing his tired eyes.

  “Carter, sorry to bother you at such a late hour, but I felt it was important to call and let you know I want you in Quantico at 10:00 a.m. for a meeting.”

  Reece bolted upright. “But sir, I’m needed here to complete this investigation.”

  “I’m well aware of your task, Carter, but this pertains to the current investigation. It’s important that you be here. Wheels up in an hour.”

  Reece exhaled. “Yes, sir. I’ll be there.” He ended the call and grabbed his suit jacket and duffle bag out of the closet. His long legs crossed the width of his office easily in three long strides. I guess I’ll be sleeping on the plane. Taking a look around his office, he turned the lights out as he pulled the door shut.

  ****

  Mara tossed in the bed. Sleep evaded her, partly because of the excitement of moving back to Arkansas and partly because of her worry for Thomas. Deciding fresh air would cure her condition, she looked across the queen bed at Alex’s peaceful sleeping form. Guilt coursed through her as she gave him a gentle nudge.

  He stirred as a soft moan escaped his lips.

  Deciding to let him sleep, she patted his arm gently and said, “Shush, go back to sleep.”

  Alex looked at her through thin blue slits. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, just having a little trouble sleeping. Never mind, go back to sleep.”

  In the soft glow of the moon, Mara detected the corners of his mouth curl up.

  “Is there anything I can do to help you sleep?” He pulled her closer to him.

  A giggle escaped Mara’s lips. “Maybe. Would you be interested in going for a moonlit stroll along the pier?”

  Alex slapped his forehead with his hand. “Of course I would. There’s nothing in the world I’d like to do more.” Grabbing Mara around her waist, he tickled her ribs relentlessly. “Come on, woman, let’s go for a walk.”

  Slapping his hands away, she jumped out of bed, laughing like a child. “You know what? I don’t feel guilty about waking you up anymore. You deserve it.” She stood with her arms outstretched, her body hunched, ready to fend off another tickle attack.

  “Is that right? Well, little lady, you deserve this.” He leapt off the bed and grabbed her into a bear hug, twirled her around, and then stopped as if struck by a sudden realization. He stared into her eyes.

  “What?”

  “I’m so amazed by you. You’ve changed me. Before I met you, I was just going through the motions. I wasn’t really happy. Now, I feel like I’m the happiest man on Earth.”

  Mara felt her heart flutter and her cheeks grow warm. She gazed into his eyes as she felt tears sting the rim of hers.

  “No, I mean it. Until the day you walked into my office, all mad and irate because you thought I stole your character’s name, my life was mediocre, at best. Then, there you were, so passionate and vulnerable and not to mention so freaking beautiful. I was doomed from that moment on.”

  “Trapped by my feminine wiles, huh?”

  “Absolutely.” He leaned his head forward to brush his lips against hers. Pushing her hair back, he found the gentle slope of her neck and let his lips graze her skin like delicate butterfly wings.

  The temperature in the room rose tenfold. Mara felt her knees grow weak. She allowed his strong arms to steady her slack body as goose pimples coursed over every inch of her. A breath caught in her throat and a moan escaped from deep inside her.

  “Still want to go for that walk?” Alex whispered into her ear.

  “What walk?” Unable to take the torture any longer, she pressed her lips hard into his as she backed up to the bed.

  Forty-Eight

  When Agent Carter landed at Quantico, something unexpected happened. Instead of exiting the plane, the door opened and Deputy Director Harlan Franks boarded.

  Reece watched the redhead take the seat across from him. He left the overhead open, his duffle bag still inside, and sat back down. His brows slid together. “Sir? I thought I was coming here for a meeting.” He extended a hand to the deputy director.

  Shaking Reece’s hand, he said, “You are. This is it.”

  “I don’t understand. Why did I have to drop everything to come here when we could have handled this over the phone?”

  “For someone so intelligent, Carter, sometimes you say the stupidest things.”

  Heat radiated from Reece’s face as he watched his superior flash a thin smile.

  “Never mind. What I have to say can’t be said over the phone, and you’re not staying long. You’re flying to Boston.”

  “Boston? Why?”

  “You’re meeting a team there.”

  “What’s the objective?” Reece asked.

  “Destroy Foster’s lab.”

  Reece felt his jaw go slack. “Excuse me?”

  “Did I not make myself clear, Carter?” Franks pressed his fingers to his eyelids.

  “No, you were very clear, but I don’t understand.”

  “Carter, let me remind you that you are employed to follow orders not ask questions. You don’t have to understand. Since you’ve been in on this investigation from the start, I assumed you’d want to see it through to the end. Now, if I was wrong let me know, and you can head back to Pensacola.”

  Reece looked down at his hands. None of this made sense. Why would they destroy the lab? Sure, Dr. Foster is mentally unstable, but there could be some credibility to the research. Reece shook his head. His gut told him something was off. “Sir, I’m not comfortable—”

  “If you’re worried about backlash, there won’t be any. It will look like an accidental industrial explosion. Wait until the end of the workday, so no personnel will be inside. The goal is to destroy the facility, not harm civilians.”

  “Sir, I thought the development of the Telomerase drug was top priority.”

  “Carter, there are things you and I are not privy to. We are not to question the motives, but carry out the mission. Understand? This directive is from the top.”

  Reece straightened and said, “Yes, sir.”

  “Good man.” Franks stood, extending a hand to Reece. “Call me when the task is complete.”

  “Yes sir,” Reece accepted Franks’s hand and shook it again. He followed the deputy director to the door and watched him exit the plane, unable to shake the uneasy feeling that clutched his insides.

  ****

  As Harlan Franks left the plane, his heart pounded in his chest and sweat rolled down his spine. Once inside his car, he pushed the ignition to start the engine and dialed the A/C to full blast. As the temperature dropped, relief and calm returned to him. Time to report his success. He hit the call button on his steering wheel and said, “Call, David Ruiz.” The dial tone rang twice. He spoke right away when Ruiz picked up. “Hello, sir, this is Deputy Director Franks. I wanted to let you know that Carter is on his way to Boston.”

  “Good. Was there any problem?”

  “At first, he seemed hesitant, but I reminded him about his responsibilities.”

  “Excellent. I want to stress how much your efforts will please the president. He won’t forget your loyalty.”

  Harlan smiled, glancing at his reflection in the rearview mirror. Smoothing the stray strands of red hair, he said, “I appreciate that, sir. If there’s anything else I can do, don’t hesitate to contact me.”

  “You can count on it, Harlan.”

  ****

  The Lear jet landed at Laurence G. Hanscom Field by midmorning. A
man in a black suit and dark glasses greeted Reece on the tarmac. Reece shook his hand and said, “Reece Carter. I’m here at the request of FBI Deputy Director Harlan Franks.”

  Reaching for Reece’s hand, the man said, “Yes, sir. I’m Alan Roland. Nice to meet you. If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to the command post. I’ll introduce you to the team and then brief you on the plans.”

  “Thank you,” Reece said, picking up his duffle bag.

  “No problem. I have a car waiting.”

  The two men hustled to a waiting SUV. Alan opened the door for Reece and then got in the seat behind him.

  Turning in his seat, Reese asked, “How far is the command post from the lab?”

  “About a mile.”

  “Have you done recon yet?”

  “Yes, sir. We’ll cover that when we get to the CP.”

  Reece swiveled around to watch the streaks of sunlight flash through the tree-lined road as it curved off the air force base. His stomach churned and his nerves felt raw. He closed his eyes to whisper a silent prayer.

  The trip from the airstrip to the command post took less than fifteen minutes. The drive along the winding roads aligned with quaint New England style houses seemed foreign to Reece. Rounding a corner, the cozy neighborhoods opened into an urban area, surprising him. “Is this Burlington?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir. The CP is just a couple of blocks from here.”

  “I’d like to see the lab before we go, if you don’t mind.”

  “Certainly. Mitch, drive by the lab for Agent Carter,” Roland instructed the driver.

  “Ten four,” the driver affirmed. Mitch switched lanes so he could make a left turn.

  In a short distance, the road turned into two lanes bordered by tall trees. Reece noticed long drives with large buildings nestled behind the tree line. Nature screened the buildings from curious onlookers.

  “It’s up ahead on the right. There are no trees obstructing the view like most of the buildings in the area,” Alan said.

  “I see that as being a negative for us. Trees would’ve provided cover for the operatives when they positioned the charges. Perhaps we should wait for the cover of darkness before setting up the incendiaries.”

  Reece studied the two-story building. A small parking lot in front contained about fifteen to twenty cars. He estimated the structure to be about 300 feet across and perhaps 50 feet deep. By most standards, it was the size of an average office building. He noticed no windows on the top floor; however, the lower level was mostly glass. He looked at his watch and noted that it was getting close to lunchtime. He wondered how many people on average left the building for lunch. Then he remembered the time difference and realized many of the workers could already be on their lunch break.

  “How many people do you estimate to be inside?”

  “This morning we counted thirty-two. We don’t know if that’s the average attendance.”

  “Okay. Let’s head to the command post.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Mitch made a U-turn and headed back in the opposite direction.

  Reece studied the building again as they passed by, noticing the sign next to the road. He asked, “What does MTG stand for?”

  “Methuselah Technology Group,” Alan Roland said.

  Reece nodded, remembering Alex had mentioned the name, Methuselah Group, after visiting his father. So far, the information Joseph Strange provided proved accurate. Reece hoped the people inside were not as ruthless as Alex’s father had suggested. He wiped his sweaty palms on his thighs.

  Forty-Nine

  President Richard Riley studied the paperwork on the desk in front of him. He looked away, then back again. He felt his face heat with anger. He pushed a button on the phone located on his desk.

  “Yes, sir?” A seasoned female voice responded.

  “Margie, could you come in here please?”

  “Right away, sir.”

  The commander in chief released the button and sat back. He heard a light knock on the door. “Come in.”

  A slender, well-dressed, middle-aged woman with short, spiky gray hair asked, “What can I do for you, sir?”

  President Riley clasped his hands together in front of him and leaned forward. “Margie, please contact General Walden and ask him to come by as soon as possible. If he can get here within the hour that would be wonderful. After you speak to the general, call David Ruiz and ask him to come by a half hour after General Walden arrives.”

  “Of course.” Margie turned to leave.

  Before she reached the door, the president said, “Oh, and, Margie, don’t tell David that the general is going to be here. No one needs to know but us.”

  Margie nodded her head once and left the room.

  Forty-five minutes later, President Riley sat straight when General Ralph Walden entered his office. Sunlight streaked through the window behind the president, reflecting off the general’s shiny dome. A brighter reflection bounced off the officer’s barrel chest boasting a rainbow of medals and ribbons.

  Without hesitation, Riley spoke as soon as the general seated himself. “Ralph, there’s a conspirator on my staff. I didn’t want to believe it, but I’ve had my suspicions for a while. Now I have proof.” The president handed a folder to the general.

  Reaching for the folder, the general said, “I’m sorry to hear that, sir. Your staff seems completely loyal to you.”

  “I thought so too, but read this, and you’ll know we are both wrong.” The president observed the general’s eyes as they move across the pages as if watching a tennis match. The general closed the folder and placed it on the desk.

  “I’m shocked, sir. What would you like from me?”

  “Ralph, you’re a man beyond reproach; you’re respected by everyone, and I want you to be my voice. Make sure everyone knows this. I also want you to witness what I’m about to do.”

  The general nodded. “You can count on me, sir.”

  They both turned at the knock on the door. Margie poked her head in and said, “Sir, Mr. Ruiz is here.”

  “Thank you, send him in,” Riley said.

  Dressed impeccably, David Ruiz strode into the room. “Good afternoon, sir. You wanted to see me?” Noticing the general, he extended his hand. “Hello, General, how are you?”

  The general shook Ruiz’s hand. “Fine, thank you.”

  “David, please have a seat,” Riley said as he motioned to the chair next to General Walden. After Ruiz settled into his seat, the president cleared his throat. “David, there’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll rip off the bandage fast, which will be the least painful.” The president paused to wet his lips. “David, I have to ask for your resignation.” Riley watched the color drain from Ruiz’s face.

  “I—I don’t understand. What?” Ruiz stuttered, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

  “David, this has come to my attention.” The president handed him the folder on his desk.

  Ruiz opened it and began to read. He sat frozen as if in a trance. The paper shook in his hand. He closed the folder, patting it shut and said, “I understand how this looks, sir, but I can explain.”

  “There’s no need to explain, David. From the beginning, you made your views on Dr. Foster’s discovery perfectly clear. You warned me that the pursuit of this cure would damage my political career. What I can’t believe, is that you would order the destruction of the research lab, along with all the research behind my back. You even had the nerve to suggest this action held my support.”

  “But sir, I don’t think you understand the implications something like this would do to our country and to the world. I don’t think you want to be remembered as the president who brought down the collapse of civilization.”

  “David, you’re wrong. With research, testing, and regulation, this drug can improve life for so many people. Not to mention the other advances that could result from further research. It may be fruitless, but I’m obligated to try. I must do everything in my powe
r to ensure the research continues. This could be a monumental breakthrough. I owe it to the people to see this through.”

  Ruiz stood and leaned on the president’s desk. The general rose in response to his menacing stance. The president raised a hand. Ruiz glared at the general and eased back into his seat. “Sir, I don’t think you realize the far-reaching effects this will have. If we don’t end this now, it could cause worldwide chaos.”

  The president shook his head fiercely. “No. We need this. The world needs this. Think about all the great minds we lost too early due to disease, or the great minds that never got a chance because they died too young from a disease this drug might have prevented. The next great scientist, philosopher, or world leader could benefit from this discovery. We can’t let fear of what might happen tomorrow dictate what we do today.”

  “The world is not ready for this drug. You’re playing God,” Ruiz said, his eyes forming slits.

  “Your views on the subject are duly noted, but I called this meeting because you have stepped outside your authority. I have no choice but to request your resignation.”

  General Walden turned to look at Ruiz, his rough-hardened face wrapped in sympathy. “Son, don’t make this more difficult than it has to be. The president struggled with his decision, but you have backed him into a corner. Let me escort you to your office to help you plan your exit.” The general rose and waited for Ruiz to follow.

  Ruiz stiffened. “No, sir. That won’t be necessary.” He turned toward the president and stood, extending his hand. “Sir, I’m sorry. You’ll have my resignation by close of business today.”

  “Thank you, David.” Riley took his hand. The handshake symbolized the end of a great working relationship between the two men. Neither seemed to want to let go, as if they knew this day marked an important moment in history.

  After Ruiz exited the room, Riley turned to General Walden and said, “Thank you, Ralph. I have one more favor to ask of you. Please pick up Harlan Franks and escort him here.”