by K. M. Hodge
Richards chuckled as he accepted the cigarette and lighter Alex proffered. “I used to be a two-pack-a-day smoker back during the war. I quit about ten years ago. This business with Katherine has me off the wagon.” He lit the cigarette, took a long drag, and slowly let the smoke out his parted lips. “That source of yours... how trustworthy is he?”
Alex ran his fingers through his sweaty hair. “He’s solid. We now have two confirmed sources saying he is alive.”
Richards sighed. “I thought you were going to say that.”
Alex stretched his long body out against the cool concrete building.
“You’re going to have to go to Michigan and confirm it yourself.” Richards squinted, and an array of fine lines circled his eyes like the setting sun. He looked as though he hadn’t slept a wink since this whole thing started.
Alex huffed in response. His boss’s suggestion was easier said than done. “And how would we make that work, exactly? We still don’t know who in the FBI is helping out The Syndicate. If it’s really him, we can’t let anyone know we found him.”
Richards put out the cigarette against the wall. His thin lips formed a grim, determined line. “You leave that to me.”
Alex smirked and started to head back inside.
Richards stopped him. “If you ever want to leave the CIA, the FBI would love to have you on our team.”
“After all that has happened, I think I might take you up on the offer.” He was touched by his boss’s offer, but he wasn’t so sure he really wanted anything to do with law enforcement anymore.
Richards shoved his hands into the pockets of his dress pants. “I understand how taxing something like this is, even on a seasoned one like you, but you’re good at what you do. I’d love to have you on my team permanently.”
Alex smiled. “I’ve enjoyed working with you too, sir. I’ll keep your offer in mind.”
***
Unknown Location
Unknown Time
~~~
The sound and vibrations of the SUV turning onto a gravel drive jolted Katherine awake. The bile of panic rose in the back of her throat. In her mind, she had convinced herself that as long as they had been moving she would be safe. As the car slowed and came to a stop, she started to shake.
The cloth blindfold obstructed her view, so she had no idea where they might be. While she had been out, they had tightened the bindings on her hands and feet, leaving her skin chafed and raw. A rush of panic-induced adrenaline shot through her, giving her the strength to fight against the tight cords.
“I guess it’s time for a little shot, lady,” the goon said. “Can’t have you trying to get away now, can we?”
She began to cry as she felt him wrap her arm with a rubber strap and shoot her full of drugs.
“Help me carry her out of here,” the goon shouted.
“Let’s put her there on the sofa.” Charles’s voice held a hint of hesitation, which did nothing to allay her growing fears. “All right, I’m heading out. Are you good?”
A ripple of fear ran through her and she shivered. Why is Charles leaving me with a man he doesn’t trust?
“Yeah, boss, don’t sweat it. I can handle her just fine.”
“Good, I’m leaving the SUV here and taking the truck,” Charles said.
“Sure, man.”
Katherine felt the pull of the drugs as the sounds around her began to blur and fade. She fought the fog of sleep, wanting to stay alert, but soon found herself back in the darkness.
Alex!
***
Jason’s Apartment
Danville, Virginia
June 5, 2008
11:00 AM
~~~
Jason awoke with a start on the floor of his bathroom. What time is it? How long have I been out?
His head buzzed and he had a sharp ringing in his ears. He needed coffee. Maybe that would make him feel a little more human.
He arose from the floor, trying to regain his bearings. “Fuck!” He pinched his eyes shut and clutched his still aching head.
It took a great amount of effort to make his way out to the living area of his tiny apartment. Much to his surprise, Sara was working on his laptop. “What are you doing?”
She startled and closed the laptop shut with a bang. “Hey, sleepy head, you’re awake. Want some coffee?”
She was obviously trying to redirect his attention, but he was too messed up to care. “Yes, please.”
She rose from her seat at his makeshift desk and said over her shoulder, “I just made another pot.”
“I think I’ll need the whole pot.” He was only half joking as he followed her into the kitchen.
The effort of making it this far had been more that his body had been prepared for, so he plopped down on one of his breakfast nook chairs. He couldn’t remember ever feeling this bad before.
She pursed her lips into a duck face. “Ooh, you poor thing!” She filled a tall coffee cup to the top, brought it over to Jason, and sat down on the seat across from him.
“What did I drink last night?” He rubbed his head. “I don’t remember ever feeling this hung-over before. I don’t even remember coming back here last night.”
“Yeah, you were pretty far gone. Don’t worry, I was the perfect lady and didn’t take advantage of you....” She winked seductively. “...much.”
He smiled briefly and sipped the hot coffee—a little caffeine to clear the cobwebs, his father used to say.
Sara stretched her arms up over ahead, causing her t-shirt to rise, exposing her taught abdomen and the underside of her full breast. “I think I’ll jump in the shower, if you don’t mind.”
Jason swallowed hard—mesmerized by her exposed body. “Yeah... sure... make yourself at home.”
She hopped up from the chair in a way that only a young woman could, kissed him on the cheek, and pranced off to the shower.
He watched with interest as she disappeared into his bedroom. Damn!
He took another sip of his coffee, and got up to check his email. His legs wobbled as he tried to walk, making him lose his balance. He caught himself at the last second, but in the process sloshed his coffee and knocked over Sara’s bag, upending all the contents onto the floor.
“Shit!”
He sat his mug down and squatted—his knees popping in protest—to mop up the coffee with a tissue and to put everything back into her bag. One by one, he replaced the contents, mentally cataloging each item—comb, lipstick, tissue packet, condoms, wallet, cell phone, jump drive, and a small zip-lock snack-sized bag of little pills.
Pills? He held the little baggie up to examine the contents. They were white, small and round. He gasped in realization of what they might be: Rohypnol.
He had done an article for a magazine, years back when the drug first hit the scene, and had done extensive research on it. Had Sara drugged him last night?
His head began to spin and the coffee started to bubble up in his throat. He bolted from his chair and grasped the sides of the sink basin as he vomited up the coffee he had just drunk. The acidic aftertaste of the bile made him grimace. When his stomach spasms finally stopped, he turned on the tap and swished out his mouth.
Oh, God, what is happening to me? He held on tightly to the counter to keep from falling.
His laptop.... What was she doing on my laptop? Did she save something onto her thumb drive?
There was one way to find out. He stumbled over to the desk and sat down. His hands trembled as he turned on the laptop and put her thumb drive into the USB port. His knee bobbed up and down. He wanted to believe that he would find nothing, but....
***
FBI Headquarters: Hoover Building
Washington, D.C.
June 5, 2008
11:30 AM
~~~
Alex looked up from his computer screen to see ASAC Richards marching towards him. Richards worked his way through the busy bullpen to Alex’s desk, clutching several folders in his hand.
> “Sir?”
Richards extended the papers to him. “You’re going to Detroit to assist the local office in creating a profile on a serial killer case they’re working.”
“Of course. Thank you, sir,” he said.
“It shouldn’t take long, so if you want to catch a Tigers’ baseball game while you’re there, you will definitely have plenty of time. I have a guy who can hook you up with some tickets, gratis,” Richards added for good measure.
“I might take you up on that. Thanks.” Alex stood up, closed and locked his desk drawer, and shut down his computer. Even though it was ridiculously hot out, he shrugged on his suit jacket to cover up the unsightly sweat stains on his rumpled Oxford shirt. “When’s my flight?”
His boss—looking pleased as punch—nodded at the paperwork. “It’s all in there. I included the 302 form that Director Barnes approved. You leave out of Dulles at 3:00 PM.”
“I’ll call you if I need anything.” Alex clutched the folders to his chest.
“Yes, please keep me updated.”
As Alex made his way through the building to the elevator, his phone buzzed in his pocket with a text message. He swiped the screen to pull up the text message from Brian.
Katherine’s location still unknown. The black SUV had Texas plates and was most likely a rental. The sketches show that one of the men was Charles MacAvoy. Sorry, Son.
Alex’s chest tightened. He still hadn’t heard anything from his CIA mission handler or from Supervisor Magellan.
Fucking CIA!
Chapter 8
Jason’s Apartment
Danville, Virginia
June 5, 2008
11:15 AM
~~~
Jason’s hands shook as his computer shut itself down for updates. He swore his computer did this just to irritate him, and let out a resounding sigh as it rebooted, the blue screen ticking off the updated percent of completion.
“Come on... come on.” He groaned in impatience, his knee bobbing up and down.
Just as the welcome screen announced itself, he heard a rustling behind him and Sara’s soft, sultry voice filled the air. He whirled out of the chair, using the desk as support as he stood up.
“I was thinking we should....” She paused, wearing just a towel wrapped around her still wet body as her gaze fell on Jason at the computer, and at her open bag and the pills on the desk. The towel she had been using to dry her hair fell to the floor with a resounding plop.
“What did you do?” The anger inside of him rose, giving him the strength he needed to confront her despite his discomfort.
He snatched up the bag of drugs and shoved them in her face. “Did you drug me?”
She trembled and took a small breath. “Y-yes.”
Pure rage coursed through him as he threw the bag of pills, sending them scattering across his living room floor.
She raised her hands in a defensive posture and backed up a few steps, putting some distance between them. “Jason, it’s not what you think!”
He suppressed the urge to strangle her, but could find no words.
She flinched and backed up another step. “I thought it would help you loosen up. I just wanted to help us have a little fun. It was just a little X.”
He had taken X in college—this was not ecstasy. The lies... he was tired of the lies. He grabbed her by the wrist and flung her down on the sofa. “You’re lying! And I can prove it!” He opened up the jump drive folder and gesticulated angrily at the screen. “And this? What’s this? You’re stealing files from my computer?”
Sara sat mute on the sofa, looking at the wood floor where the rest of the pills lay scattered.
He quickly deleted the files with one click and checked the history to make sure she hadn’t emailed it or saved it on a cloud somewhere. After he had sufficiently checked his computer he reached for his home phone. “I’m calling the police.”
She shrugged in a nonchalance that drove him insane. “Don’t bother. It will just be a waste of time.” She nodded to the phone. “I don’t exist, at least as far as law enforcement and the government is concerned.”
He clenched his fist and tried to decide whether or not she was lying. He should just call her bluff.
She continued in an even tone. “They will hold me long enough for my associates to come and collect me.”
Jason’s hand began to tremble as he clenched his fist hard enough to draw blood. The fog in his mind began to lift and he was starting to see the truth. “You’re a part of this, aren’t you?”
She stood and wrapped the towel tight around her chest. “You know I can’t tell you anything.” She modestly bent over and scooped up the rest of the pills and put them back into her bag. Gone was the seductress act that he had fallen for—hook, line, and sinker.
As she walked past him she whispered in his ear. “The place is bugged.”
He sank back down into his chair, absorbing all she had said. He didn’t know what to think, what to believe anymore.
Five minutes later, she came out of the room dressed in the clothes she had worn the night before and, without saying another word, took her bag and her now empty jump drive and walked out the door.
“Goodbye, Jason,” she said with a sigh. “You’re a good man. Take my advice and get as far away from this as you can.”
Jason felt depleted. The rage that moments before had caused his blood to boil was now only simmering. The encounter with Sara left him with a deep-seated desire to get out of town, get away from this giant mess. He threw on some clothes and grabbed his laptop, phone, and a bottle of water. He knew just the place to go.
***
Sara let out a panicked breath as the door closed behind her.
I’m a dead woman.
She hadn’t gotten the information that her associates at The Syndicate needed, and she had been caught by the eyes and ears of the CIA, who were no doubt dispensing field operatives to collect her that very minute.
Regret hung on her like ill-fitting clothes as her actions began to sink in. Jason hadn’t asked to be involved in any of this. He was a good man and she liked him. At least now he knew they were watching him. She’d had nothing to lose telling him. After all, now the CIA and The Syndicate were going to be after her.
She was doomed.
Ever the smart and resourceful woman, she had already begun to strategize her next best move: turn herself into the CIA, or take her chances with The Syndicate? Death, or life in prison?
Not much of a choice.
For the time being, she would hide. Like a rat, she knew how to disappear into the woodwork.
***
Dulles Airport Departures Entrance
Dulles, Virginia
June 5, 2008
12:45 PM
~~~
Alex stepped out of the cab onto the curb outside the entrance to the Southwest Airlines Departures curbside check in. While waiting his turn in line Supervisor Magellan called him on his cell.
“Bailey speaking.”
“Hey, Alex, sorry it’s taken me so long to get back to you with an update. We had an incident this afternoon that you should know about.” He spoke in a hurried way that belied his normally calm demeanor.
“Sir?” He sucked in a nervous breath, not sure he wanted to know.
“Bailey, as you surmised at our last meeting, we had suspected there was a mole here at Langley, as well. Today we confirmed the mole as Senior Special Agent Horton.”
Alex gasped. “What?”
“We are just as shocked as you are, I assure you. We now know for certain that she’s the one who leaked the information of Katherine’s safe house location to MacAvoy. We are dispatching agents now to apprehend her.”
“Um... okay, thanks for letting me know. Please keep me updated.” He ended the call feeling as though someone had knocked the wind out of him.
Sara! No, not Sara. He felt sick.
“Sir, are you all right?” the woman in front of him asked.
/> He shook his head no and leaned against a support post.
“Sir?” the woman asked again.
Alex held his hand out to keep her at bay. “I’m okay.” His voice shook. “Just give me a minute, please.” He reached into his pants pocket, pulled out a Xanax he’d pocketed for the flight, and chewed it in an effort to expedite its effect.
He took a long, slow, deep breath.
God, I need a cigarette.
Several no smoking signs made clear that would not happen.
He pushed off the post with his foot and walked up to the check-in, since it was his turn in line. He didn’t have time to fall apart. For his and Katherine’s sake, he had to keep going.
Katherine.... She has to be okay. She has to be.
If anything happened to her, he swore that he would take Sara’s life with his own bare hands.
***
Yellow Hat Cabin
Millburo, Virginia
June 5, 2008
12:45 PM
~~~
Despite the opiate haze, Katherine felt a hard tug at her shorts and underwear. They slid down her sweaty legs with little resistance. Her shirt and bra soon followed suit, leaving her bare. Warm soapy water and a scratchy old rag began to wash away the sticky sweat and grime that had accumulated over the last couple of days. Her feet, calves, legs, breasts, and face were made clean again.
Thick, meaty hands massaged soapy water into her scalp, and cups of warm water washed away all the soap, leaving her blissfully clean. She was lulled by the motions of the hands... until she felt a soft cloth tying her hands together above her head.
A sudden hot flush of panic rose up inside her.
The hands were back, but with a more sinister intent. They kneaded her breast, making her long to escape, to return to the opiate-induced darkness. The soapy hands traversed her helpless naked flesh, parting and painfully violating her.
She tried to fight the fog that entrapped her. She desperately wanted to stop these hands from breaking her—splitting her in two. She used every bit of remaining strength to raise her free leg at just the right moment, and brought her hard bony knee up hard. It connected as she hoped it would, filling the room with a painful howl.
