by Ana Stone
He reached for her as she started by him and but she evaded his grasp and hurried through the house and out to her car. As soon as she started the engine she turned the AC on. It wasn’t that warm but she could feel the perspiration on her skin, and a slight nausea bubbling in her stomach.
She had not consumed that much of the champagne. Maybe it was just a case of anxiety. She’d feel better once she got home. The evening had been a mistake but it had also been a wake-up call. As wealthy, charming and interesting as Adrian might be, he was not the man for her. Blake was.
Now, if she could just find the courage to let their relationship move forward, to let go of the past and look to the future.
Friday, April 16
It was almost noon by the time Sydney arrived at her office. As she got off the elevator her thoughts were on Adrian and their evening together. A shocked gasp tore from her throat as she turned the corner and saw the door to her office standing open and two men walking out, laden with boxes.
"What is the meaning of this?" she demanded, barring their way.
One man brushed by her, bumping into her shoulder and pushing her out of his way but the other stopped and turned around and walked back to the office door. "Sir?"
Special Agent Wells stepped out into the hallway and Sydney glared at him. "Would you care to explain what is going on? What are these men doing in my office and what are they taking out?"
He reached in his pocket and handed her a folded sheet of paper. She unfolded it and quickly scanned it. "This is incredible!" she fumed and marched passed him, shouting to the others in the office. "Everyone hold it right where you are!"
Obviously surprised by her appearance, the people in the room did just that. They all stopped and looked at her. She snatched up the phone on the secretary's desk and viciously dialed a number. "Hello, this is Sydney Forrest. Put me through to my father immediately."
"Don't you move!" she snapped at a man who bent over to pick up a box of files from the floor. "Dad! There's a bunch of FBI men in my office ransacking it. This agent Wells handed me some bogus court order giving them authority to take everything. You have to do something! This is illegal −okay, hold on."
She turned to agent Wells. "Senator Jack Forrest would like to speak with you."
"I have nothing to say to the Senator," Wells replied then looked at his men. "Okay, let's get finished up here. Jamison, you and Hardwick clear out the rest of these cabinets. I'm going to check on Williams and Talbot."
He ignored Sydney and walked into her private office. After a moment of stunned silence she put the phone back up to her ear. "He won't even come to the phone, Dad. What am I going to do? The judge? Yes, hold on."
She unfolded the paper Wells had given her. "It's Judge Walton Frieze−okay, thanks. Yes, I will. Bye."
She hung up the phone and walked into her office to find Wells leaning over another man's shoulder as the man typed away on the keyboard of her computer.
"Where are the files?" Wells looked at her.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she replied.
"The computer files. We can't get into them."
"How terrible for you."
Wells gave her a hateful look then turned his attention back to the man at the keyboard. "Try going directly from the system prompt and do a directory."
"I've already tried that,” Talbot said. “Every time I do it locks the system up and I have to reboot."
He looked up at Sydney. "What have you done to this system?"
"Why nothing," she said sweetly. "Now, if it's not too much of a bother, could you give me some idea how long it's going to take you people to finish tearing up my office? I do have work to do."
Wells cursed. "Just turn off the damn thing. We'll take it with us."
"Just let me try one more thing," Talbot said.
Sydney walked over and watched him. As he typed she smiled to herself but yelped out loud. "No! Don't do that!"
Both men looked at her in surprise then Wells tapped Talbot on the shoulder. "Do it."
Talbot smiled and hit the enter key. The screen blinked several times then the disk made a soft whirring noise. Talbot started keying in one command after another but to no avail. The whirring sound of the disk drive went on for a few seconds then stopped and the screen went blank.
He looked up at Sydney. "What was that?"
"Beats me. I'm a psychiatrist, not a computer specialist."
Talbot cursed and stood. "I think she built some sort of self-destruct into the operating system. The entire system's dead."
Wells snorted and yelled at the man who was working on the wall safe. "Williams, you get that safe open yet?"
Williams pulled the door to the safe open with a smile. "Yes sir!"
Wells walked over and looked in the safe. It was empty. "Where are the tapes?" he turned to Sydney.
"What tapes?"
"Dr. Forrest, I warn you, you are in direct violation of a court order. I suggest that unless you want to be arrested for obstruction of justice you turn over those tapes to me."
"I can't turn over what I don't have, Agent Wells."
Wells turned to Talbot. "Take her in. Maybe she'll feel a little more cooperative after she's had a chance to think about it."
Sydney jerked away as Talbot tried to take her arm. "I'm not going anywhere with you people!"
"I'm afraid you are, Doctor," Wells disagreed as Talbot grabbed her arms to pull them behind her back.
Sydney scowled as he fastened restains on her wrists. "I believe I'm entitled to a phone call," she said as Talbot nudged her towards the door.
"You'll get your call, doctor." Wells took her arm and walked her out of the office. "Just as soon as we get those tapes."
Sydney gave him a hateful look but said nothing. Now she had to figure out how she was going to get herself out of this mess.
Blake picked up the phone in his office. "Edwards."
"Blake? It's Sydney. I'm in trouble and I need your help."
"What's wrong?"
"I've been arrested. Can you do something to get me out?"
"Where are you? Why were you arrested?" Blake felt his heart thud rapidly.
"It's a little hard to explain. The FBI seems to think they have the right to come in and take my patient files without my permission. They wanted the tapes of my sessions and I refused so they arrested me."
"The FBI?" If she had been taken in by the bureau it was not going to be so easy for him to just walk in and bail her out.
"Blake, please get me out of here!"
"Okay, Syd, hold on. I'll be there as soon as I can."
He jumped up, grabbed his jacket and was headed out of his office when the phone rang again. Thinking that it might be Sydney he ran back and jerked it up. "Edwards−Sir?--Yes sir, right away."
"Damn!" He slammed his hand down on his desk. His supervisor wanted to see him and there was no way to refuse.
He walked down the hall and knocked on the supervisor's door. Once he heard the voice directing him to enter he opened the door. "You wanted to see me, sir?"
"Come in, Agent Edwards." His Supervisor, Paige replied. "Have a seat."
Blake sat down as ordered. "Agent Edwards, I understand you have become involved in a matter out of your area."
Blake's eyes flew open wide. He had only just spoken with Sydney. Her call must have been traced and someone had notified his supervisor. Holy shit. Whatever she's mixed up in must be big.
"Uh, yes sir. In a round about way. A friend - a woman I know - a doctor - has been taken in for refusing to turn over her patient files. She called and asked me to come down and−"
"I don’t think that would be wise, Agent Edwards. This isn’t your case and you’d be well served to leave it in the purview of those in charge. That is all."
"But sir!" Blake blurted. "I can't just let her sit there and . . ."
"That’s exactly what you are going to do Agent Edwards." Paige stood. "Do I make myself clear
?"
"Yes, sir," Blake said tightly.
"Then you may go."
Blake left the office and stood in the hall for a moment, wondering what was going on and how he could find out. An idea occurred to him and he ran back down the hall and into Weasel’s office.
“I need your help," he whispered as he leaned over beside George We'zel.
Weasel turned with a frown. "What kind of help?"
"Something that only someone with a brain as big as yours can do. I need you to break into a computer system for me."
Weasel's eyes brightened behind the thick glasses. "Sounds interesting. Why don't you tell me more."
Sydney sat alone in a room inside the FBI headquarters of the J. Edgar Hoover building. She had no idea even what part of the building she was in. She had gotten lost after only a few minutes. Aside from two chairs and a small table the room she was in was empty. Outside the door two agents stood on either side.
It had been hours since she had called Blake and there had been no word from him. She had refused to talk to anyone and for the last half hour she had been left alone.
At first she had been filled with righteous indignation. Now that was beginning to fade and fear was starting to rear its head. She didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t turn over the information they wanted. Not because she had anything of such importance. So far all she knew was that Senator Tyler had been taking payoffs from someone apparently involved in the big mortgage scandal around 2008. It was not that she thought the information was so damaging. It was more than that. She took the doctor patient privilege very seriously and to turn over the information was against everything she had sworn to hold true to.
The door opened and Agent Wells walked in. "Do you feel like talking now, Doctor Forrest?"
"No, actually I feel like going to the bathroom and making a phone call."
He stared at her for a moment then nodded. "Very well, Agent Sellers will escort you to the ladies room then to a phone. I will be back shortly."
He left the room and one of the men posted outside the door looked in. "Doctor Forrest? If you will come with me."
He walked with her to the ladies room and positioned himself just inside the door. She gave him an irritated look but he ignored it. Slamming the door of the stall she relieved herself then washed her hands and ran her fingers through her hair. "Can I make that call now?"
"If you'll please come with me," he gestured ahead of himself.
Sydney walked out of the restroom and went with the agent to another office. He motioned to the phone then took his position outside the room. For a moment she hesitated. She had no idea who to call. She considered her father, but dismissed the idea. She could not get him involved in this any deeper than she already had by calling him earlier.
Another possibility came to her and she picked up the phone and dialed, hoping she remembered the number correctly. After two rings a deep voice came on the line.
"Yes?"
"Adrian? Thank god. It's Sydney. I'm in big trouble and I didn't know who else to turn to."
"Tell me what's happened," his voice was calm and low.
She quickly explained the situation. "Just remain calm and do not answer any questions," he instructed. "I promise I will have you out of there within the hour."
"I hope so," she whispered. "Thanks,"
She hung up the phone and the agent took her back to the room where Agent Wells waited. "Are you ready to tell me where those tapes are Doctor?"
She shook her head and sat down, hoping that she had not made a mistake in calling Adrian. He might be wealthy and know a lot of important people but she had no idea if he had the kind of contacts it was going to take to get her out of this.
Chapter Three
Friday, April 14
Blake looked over Weasel's shoulder as he worked. The display flashed so quickly from one screen to another that Blake could not begin to read what was on it. After ten minutes Weasel looked up at him with a smile. "Here we are, dude."
Blake looked at the information on the screen. "Senator Ned Tyler? She was arrested for his patient files? That doesn't make sense. I haven't heard any dirt on Tyler, have you?"
Weasel shrugged and cut a look around. "You get a chance to check out that address I gave you?"
"No, not yet. Weasel, we need to find out what Tyler's up to. You have any ideas on how to do that?"
"I just might," Weasel's fingers danced on the keyboard. A few seconds later the screen filled with information. It was an article from the Associated Press about the Subprime Mortgage Crisis and hedge funds who manipulated politicians with illegal campaign contributions. Blake read through it then looked at Weasel. "I don't see what you're getting at. His name isn't even mentioned."
"That's right," Weasel exited the screen and keyed in a new address and search command. "But look right here."
Blake's eyes widened as he read the small article telling of a social event held at the home of banker who played a key role. There were quite a few notable figures attending. "So he is connected!"
"Could be," Weasel exited the screen.
"But it still doesn't make sense. If he was taking payoffs then he should have been named in the first article, so obviously his alleged involvement hasn't been made public. And anyway, if he were being investigated for something like that wouldn't it be by a Senate Investigative Committee? Why the FBI?"
Weasel shrugged and looked at Blake expectantly. Blake scratched the back of his neck and blew out his breath. "So what now?"
"Now I get back to what I'm being paid for," Weasel answered as he turned his attention to the computer. "And you do what you're trained to do."
"Which is?"
"Investigate."
Blake snorted but patted Weasel on the shoulder. "Thanks for your help pal."
"Anytime," Weasel did not look up but continued to click away on the keyboard. "You know what I always say – the deep web is where it all comes together. You just have to know where to look."
Blake thought about the comment as he returned to his office. He searched his pockets and finally located the piece of paper with the address Weasel had given him in the inner breast pocket of his suit jacket. After logging onto his computer, he opened a browser window and typed in the address into the search bar.
The screen went blank for a moment then a message printed at the top, letting him know that he was connected. He had no idea what he was suppose to do next.
Just as he was ready to forget all about it the screen changed and content displayed . It was a list of articles written about things like derivatives, securitization, collateralized debt obligations and criticisms for US trade policies and the country’s involvement in NAFTA and the UN.
“What the hell?" he murmured as he leaned back and stared at the screen. "Why did Weasel give me this?"
Sydney looked up as Agent Wells and another older man walked into the room. "Dr. Forrest, my name is Raymond Sanders. I am the Assistant Director of the Criminal Investigative Division of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. I wanted to apologize to you personally for this unfortunate misunderstanding and tell you that you are free to go."
She stood and looked from Mr. Sanders to Agent Wells. "And my supposed tapes? Am I going to be harassed about that again?"
"No." He shook his head and cut a look at Wells. "And again I do apologize. It seems that our agents were a little overzealous in the performance of their duties. As we speak your files and records are being returned to your office."
"Well, thank you so much," she said sarcastically and started for the door.
Mr. Sanders stepped in her path. "There is one thing I would like to ask you, Doctor. If at some future time you suspect that any of your patients are indeed a threat to national security will you please contact me directly? I realize this is an unorthodox and possibly even unethical request but you must understand that we take our jobs very seriously and rely on many resourc
es in order to do the job of insuring the security of this country. As a citizen and a patriot I am asking you to consider my request."
Sydney studied him for a moment then nodded. "I will consider it, sir. Now, could you possibly call me a cab? I find myself without transportation thanks to your subordinates."
"That will not be necessary. I have been informed that a car is waiting to take you home. Agent Wells will escort you outside."
"Thank you," she replied and walked to the door, followed by a very taciturn, hard-faced Wells. Neither of them spoke until they walked outside. He pointed to a long white Limousine then looked at her.
"I think it only fair to tell you that this isn't over, Doctor. We will find out what we need to know."
"I'm sure you will," she replied frostily. "Now, if you will excuse me, I've had enough of your delightful company for one day."
The limousine driver opened the rear door for her and she got in the car. As soon as he was behind the wheel he looked around at her. "Where to, Doctor Forrest?"
"Wherever I can find Adrian," she replied. She wanted to find out what he had done or what strings he had pulled to get her released from custody before she did anything else.
After half an hour Blake leaned back in his chair and stared fixedly at the computer screen. He had been going through the information and there seemed to be no end to it.
A knock at his door made him look around. "Hey, Blake! What's shakin'?"
"Not much Steve, how 'bout you?"
"You know, the usual," Steve replied as he closed the door and took a seat in front of Blake's desk. "What're you working on?"
Blake made an expression of disgust, "Paperwork." He was not about to tell anyone he was conducting his own investigation on bureau time. Especially not Steve. He was a true-blue, to the core company man. At one time, Steve and Blake had been partners. Back when both of them were working for the Special Operations Group in New York. When Blake transferred to Washington, he had requested reassignment and had been working drugs ever since. Steve was still a SOG man, but now that he was in Washington, he was part of the TTS, or Technical Support Squad.
