by Vanessa Kier
Ryker’s arm snaked around her waist and she found herself lifted and thrown over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry.
“Who Robert? Who?” she screamed, pounding on Ryker’s back as tears streamed down her face.
“You’ve…got…mail…” Robert said. His raspy cough was the last thing Siobahn heard before Ryker shouldered open the door to the staircase and took the stairs two at a time. A second later, the fire alarm started blaring. McCormick raced out of the lab, holding his cell phone to his ear.
“Put me down,” Siobahn screamed to Ryker. “We’ll move faster if I’m on my own two feet.”
He let her slide down his body, then grabbed her hand and continued running up the stairs, McCormick hot on their heels. She could see the landing and the metal gate into the gift shop. Almost—
A fire containment door slammed down across the edge of the landing, blocking them from reaching the exit. Their group ground to a halt.
“There’s no cell signal, sir,” McCormick reported. “Someone must have activated a jammer.”
“All right,” Ryker said. “Ethan will have help already en route, and by pulling the fire alarm we’ll get additional assistance from the fire department. Now, which way should we go? Up or down?”
“Ms. Murphy, do you know where the HVAC unit is located?” McCormick asked. He didn’t even sound winded. “Roof or basement?”
She shook her head, then realized that in the darkness, with the flashlight beams all pointing away, McCormick probably couldn’t see the gesture. “I don’t know. I never saw it.”
“Odds are better up,” Ryker said. “McCormick?”
“Agreed, sir.”
All three of their flashlight beams converged on the fire door that prevented them from accessing the landing. Damn it. They were so close. Siobahn eyed the upper staircase, calculating the distance. Maybe—
Ryker walked up a few steps, stopping at the narrowest point between the staircases. “We’ll go up here.” He turned off his flashlight. “A boost, please, McCormick.”
Ryker climbed onto the railing.
“What the hell are you doing?” Siobahn demanded. Even with Ryker’s height, he could only just touch the other railing. There was no way he could gain enough momentum to pull himself over.
“Watch,” McCormick said. He cupped his hands. Ryker placed his right foot in McCormick’s hands, then the younger man heaved. Riding the momentum of the boost, Ryker swung his body up and over the opposite railing and landed lightly on his feet.
The move reminded Siobahn of a gymnast on the vaulting horse. She whistled in appreciation.
“He’s still got what it takes,” McCormick said with an appreciative shake of his head.
“Quickly now,” Ryker called down. “McCormick will give you a lift and I’ll swing you over.”
Thankful she’d chosen a pantsuit this morning, Siobahn let McCormick help her onto the railing. Then she reached up for Ryker’s outstretched arms. Being so much shorter than him, she barely managed to interlock her fingers with his.
“Ready, ma’am?”
She gulped. “Yes.” She stepped into McCormick’s waiting hands and he boosted her up while Ryker pulled her over the railing.
The second her feet met the other staircase, Ryker put his hand on her lower back and urged her up the stairs. “But—”
A thud behind her indicated that McCormick had made it up and over the railing without anyone’s help. Show off.
“Faster!” he called.
Siobahn didn’t know what had alarmed McCormick, but she obeyed anyway, pounding up the stairs. By the time they reached the top level and the back entrance into the galleries, her lungs were burning.
“Do you feel that?” McCormick demanded. “Air is circulating again.”
Oh, God, he was right. There’d been no push of air out of the vents when they’d arrived, but now she could feel the faint draft from above. Siobahn shivered. Once, she’d been on assignment to investigate rumors of a chemical weapons attack in an area of the Middle East. When she’d reached the site three days later, she’d discovered that no one had cleared the bodies away. For months her nightmares had replayed in vivid detail that horrible walk as she’d followed her guide along the rows upon rows of chemically burned corpses. Her choppy breathing, filtered through her gas mask, had provided a sinister soundtrack.
She didn’t want to end up like one of those corpses.
Ryker stopped. “Here,” he said, handing his handkerchief to Siobahn. “Tie this over your nose and mouth.”
Slapping away his hand, Siobahn dug in her purse. “These are better.” She pulled out a stack of triangular, medical protective masks and thrust one at McCormick and a second one at Ryker.
Ryker shot her an inquisitive glance as he slipped the elastic bands over his ears.
“The newspaper just went through our annual emergency procedures drill,” she said as she followed suit. “One of the topics we covered was being prepared in the case of airborne toxins. Given what I’ve been investigating recently, it seemed a good idea to carry a few masks with me.”
Not that the masks would offer complete protection against nerve gas, but they were better than nothing.
“That’s the last time I complain about women and their ginormous purses.” McCormick’s wry comment was muffled by his mask.
“All right,” Ryker said. “We need to find either a window or an exit that leads to a fire escape.”
Moving slowly, the three searched the walls for any way to escape. Now that they’d stopped running, Siobahn realized that the burning in her lungs wasn’t entirely due to exertion. “Ryker,” she began, then was overtaken by a bout of coughing.
“I know, sweetheart. Don’t talk. Take shallow breaths. We’re going to find a way out of here.”
Right. His employees called him a miracle worker. But she’d be damned if she could figure out how he was going to get them through this. Even if an SSU team was on its way, she didn’t think they’d reach them in time.
As she suffered through another bout of coughing, she continued to look for an escape route. According to her memories, there should have been an emergency exit just past the top of the stairs and before the back door to the gallery, but all she saw was smooth wall.
They worked their way into the gallery. Glass display cases that appeared harmless during the day took on a sinister cast in the pale light thrown by their flashlights. She kept expecting one of the cases to explode, covering them with glass shards and letting loose a visible cloud of noxious gas.
A few steps later, Siobahn could no longer deny that it was becoming noticeably harder to breathe. The air now stung as it entered her lungs, making her cough harder.
She swung her flashlight around with increased desperation.
Ahead of her, Ryker pulled his phone out of his pocket. Siobahn hoped they’d moved out of the jammer’s range and had cell signal again. Ryker glanced at the display, raised his head and looked around the gallery, then nodded toward a video room on the left. Siobahn started to follow him, but her feet felt sluggish. Oh, God. She didn’t want to end up like poor Robert, curled up on herself just waiting to die.
A small cry of fear escaped her lips. Ryker spun around and put his arm around her waist. She felt a moment of resentment that once again she was the victim while Ryker was the super hero saving the day, then he stumbled.
Her heart lurched into her throat. Bracing her arm against the wall, she helped them both regain their balance.
To her right, she saw McCormick sway.
“Down,” she muttered. “Air will be slightly clearer down.” And with Ryker and McCormick so much taller than she, they were getting the gas first. She tugged Ryker and motioned to McCormick until all three of them were crawling.
Ryker pointed to the faint outline of a door to the right of the video screen. It couldn’t be more than twenty feet away, but Siobahn’s lungs were on fire. Her muscles constricted and it took every ounce of w
illpower not to scream as she forced herself to keep moving.
Just…a few…more…feet…
Her arms gave out and she collapsed onto her belly. Oh, God, her body was one giant charley horse, the spasm so painful she couldn’t hold back her scream.
Ryker reached back for her, but with a jerk his hand curled into a claw and he, too, dropped to the ground.
Tears wet Siobahn’s face, providing slight relief against the burning agony hardening her muscles. They were going to die here. So close to freedom. She tried to hold Ryker’s gaze, but the pain had her squeezing her eyes shut, waiting for the end.
A loud crack, a boom, and then the sweet scent of fresh air touched the edges of Siobahn’s slipping consciousness.
The last thing she heard was someone shouting, “Found them, sir!”
Chapter Ten
Four days later, Siobahn checked her secure email from one of the SSU’s safe houses. Taking a deep breath, she felt so grateful that inhaling no longer burned, she nearly cried. Those first twenty-four hours in the hospital had been excruciating. She’d drifted in and out of consciousness while the doctors struggled to find something that would counteract the toxin in their systems. It had been Ryker’s gasped suggestion to call the DOD that had resulted in a counteragent being sent over so that the proper treatment could begin.
Thanks to Ethan’s call, an SSU team had already been en route to the museum when Robert had warned them of the poison gas. The cell phone jammer’s signal had no longer been active by the time Siobahn and the others reached the top floor—apparently the battery had died—so Ryker had succeeded in shooting off a text apprising his team of the situation and asking for the floor plan to help them get out. The team had then used the GPS trackers in the phones Ryker and McCormick carried to locate them. With help from the fire department, the SSU agents had breached the emergency exit from the outside, then dragged Siobahn and the others into the fresh air. They’d reached the hospital just in time to prevent permanent damage.
Robert, unfortunately, had been dead when the SSU team found him. Further back in the lab, the SSU team had also found the body of the FBI agent assigned to protect Robert.
Her friend’s last words had indicated that he’d sent Siobahn information on his discovery. Today was the first time she’d felt strong enough to log on and check her email since getting out of the hospital.
The fact that Siobahn hadn’t seen Ryker since she awoke without pain twenty-four hours ago was something she refused to dwell on. He’d left her a voicemail explaining that he had work to do and wouldn’t be available for a while. She’d listened to the message multiple times, just to hear his voice. Despite his warning, he’d also managed to send a couple of “I miss you” texts.
While Siobahn wished he’d managed time to stop by, she understood that Ryker had a complex organization to run. He had responsibilities. Heck, the nurses had been only too happy to share the information that, against the doctor’s orders, Ryker had returned to work the instant they removed his ventilator. The nurses had also told Siobahn that Ryker had stopped by her room while she’d still been unconscious. He’d apparently stayed a long time by her bedside holding her hand, which news made her tear up with happiness.
Yeah, a strange side effect of the gas attack was that she’d become overly emotional. Go figure.
Siobahn took a drink of water to soothe her still tender throat. Returning to work was the last thing she wanted. To her delight and complete surprise her mentor, David Glenn, who’d retired six months ago, had stepped up and offered to oversee the investigative team while Siobahn recovered. She’d been so grateful, she’d cried. Again.
Once she was cleared to return to work, her first task was going to be convincing David to permanently take her job. She had a feeling that he wouldn’t put up much of a fight. The excitement she’d heard in his voice when he’d promised her that he’d take good care of her people made her suspect that retirement wasn’t sitting well with him.
For now she was just grateful to be alive and to be temporarily relieved of her duties. She knew she needed to address her lack of enthusiasm, but not until after this situation was resolved.
After logging in to her secure email account, she quickly located Robert’s email. Two files were attached. One contained photos of slides and beakers, with little Post-It notes indicating the contents of each container. The other file was a detailed report of his findings.
She skimmed through his summation of the scientific evidence regarding the unknown substance he’d found in President MacAdam’s blood supply. Based on Robert’s finding, he suspected that the substance in the President’s blood had not only killed him, but had also been a weaponized compound delivered as a gas.
Given the extreme security measures surrounding MacAdam, Siobahn suspected that only a few people would have had the access necessary to carry off the murder. Robert hadn’t even been told whose remains he was analyzing until the samples had been delivered by a team of Secret Service and FBI agents.
Shortly after Robert had turned in his preliminary report to the investigative team, he’d sensed that someone was following him. So he’d holed up in the museum and continued to run tests, trying to pinpoint the unidentifiable substance.
Tears welled up in Siobahn’s eyes. Robert had died without even discovering who had killed the President. He’d suspected foul play and had figured out how, but not who.
“Toby!” Siobahn called, then rolled her eyes as Faith made a shushing gesture and took her phone call into the other room. As a precautionary measure, Faith and Toby had also been pulled into the safe house. “Do you know what happened to the other scientists who were given MacAdam’s tissue and blood samples to analyze?” Siobahn asked.
The one good thing that had come of the drama at the museum was that she no longer had to hide the fact that she’d been investigating the death of MacAdam. Of course, she was also supposed to have dropped the investigation by now. But if Ryker didn’t have the nerve or the time to tell her in person to give up her research, she sure wasn’t going to obey an order passed on via a weary McCormick.
Toby and Faith had finally broken their silence and given Siobahn access to their complete notes. According to Toby, she’d been right when she’d suspected the rumored attack tied back to the death of MacAdam’s son. The President had planned an attack against an island in the South Pacific, intending to sip out the home villages of the men he believed had killed his son. Toby had also confirmed that he’d been one of the enhanced Kerberos soldiers assigned to carry out the attack on the anniversary of the boy’s death. Thanks to data provided by Faith’s lover—a former CIA agent and Kerberos employee who’d decided to take down Jamieson and Kaufmann for personal reasons—the SSU had stopped the attack. MacAdam had been arrested and placed under secretive house arrest. His voluntary resignation had been a lie.
Both Jamieson and Kaufmann had ended up in custody. Toby and the other surviving victims of Kaufmann had been taken to the SSU lab where doctors had been able to reverse most of the damage done.
Unfortunately, Dr. Montague, the doctor who’d made such progress counteracting the effects of Kaufmann’s drugs, had been critically injured during the fight in the South Pacific. She’d actually died for a few minutes before SSU agent Kai Paterson, her co-leader on the medical team, had found the antidote to the poison in her system. Fortunately, Dr. Montague had eventually made a full recovery and returned to work, overseeing the last of Toby’s progress.
The full details of Kaufmann’s program had also been in the SSU reports Toby had shown Siobahn. After reading the accounts of torture and brainwashing that Kaufmann had carried out in the name of science, nausea churned in her belly. The fact that Kaufmann had succeeded in creating mind-controlled soldiers terrified her. And it saddened her that President MacAdam had been so consumed by his grief that he’d been willing to use such soldiers to attack thousands of innocent people.
Still, she felt smug knowing th
at she’d correctly connected Kaufmann, Jamieson and MacAdam. Now she intended to find out who had authorized the deaths of all three men.
“Um,” came Toby’s delayed response. “I don’t know.”
“Well find out, would you?” The safe house had a secure broadband connection that allowed them to surf the Internet without the danger of being tracked.
“Yes, ma’am.” Ah, she liked that. Wonder what it would take to get Ryker to yes ma’am me? Her skin flushed as she entertained X-rated visions of what she’d do if she could order Ryker around in the bedroom.
Shaking her head, she refocused on her job. Now that she had access to the data Toby and Faith had collected, she had a deeper appreciation of just how complex and widespread Kerberos’s contamination had been. She suspected that someone high up in the government had ordered the men’s deaths as a way to cover up his or her own involvement. But for the life of her—ugh, she’d never use that phrase lightly again—she couldn’t figure out who.
“Okay, Siobahn,” Toby said two hours later, walking into the study where she’d set up a temporary office. “We’ve got one heart attack, one car accident, and one missing person. Looks like someone didn’t want the samples from MacAdam to be analyzed.”
Siobahn drew a few more circles on the whiteboard stretching across one of the study’s walls. “Does any of this make sense to you? Who are we overlooking? Thanks to Mark Tonelli—” Yes, she’d finally been given the name of Faith’s lover. “—we know that President MacAdam gave Jamieson and Kerberos the task of carrying out the anniversary demonstration. Kaufmann supplied enhanced soldiers, created from the missing military and law enforcement personnel, to Kerberos for use in the attack. Based on Kaufmann’s criteria, Jamieson’s contacts within the DOD, FBI and other agencies faked the deaths of eligible candidates. The targeted men were then taken against their will to Kaufmann’s lab where they became subjects of his experiments.”
“Right,” he said. “Except for the missing Captain Devraiz, my contacts at the DOD say they believe all involved parties there have been taken into custody. Including my commanding officer, who notified Jamieson that my investigation was a threat, then helped Kerberos’s men kidnap me.” Toby’s eyes darkened, his only visible reaction to the betrayal that had led to his ordeal.