“My frustration is that Ahlmet’s experiment is costing my project the loss of my time and concentration. I’ve never missed a deadline. Never.” Her left eyebrow arched as she considered her next words. “If you all think this medical leave is essential, I want my crew to know that I’ll pay their productivity bonus. The work can’t continue without me and the money means a lot to them.” She shrugged, forced a small smile. “I’ve not taken one sick day in the last four years. I’m known as a hard ass.”
“Learned it at home, I’d suggest.” Milan looked my way. “If Phoebe doesn’t object, I would like to have the next part of this discussion in private.” He gave her a moment to speak. She shrugged and agreed.
“Let me give you a good night kiss.” I leaned over to touch my lips to the top of her head. She grabbed my hand, pulled me for a full hug.
“Thank you, Mom.” Her whisper tickled my ear, flooded my heart.
“I love you, Phoebs.”
Andrew ruffled one hand across Phoebe’s hair and extended the other out in an open gesture to Milan. “Listen well. This woman could help save the world if her water study continues. And you could be instrumental in part of making that happen. As part of Hartford, Ltd.”
The two men exchanged a look, one that suggested Andrew’s comment capstoned longer discussions between them. I closed the door to Phoebe’s room behind me, followed Andrew through the residence, without a clue what to say that could comfort either of us.
“Take me to Ahlmet.” Andrew spoke calmly.
“Can’t do that, Andrew. Milan and I agreed to keep his location private.”
“He could inflict more pain on Phoebe at any time, bend her thinking when she needs to be absolutely clear with Milan.” The hand that grabbed my arm was strong yet gentle. “I have to convince him that this experiment must stop.”
“That confirms what I just heard about Ahlmet from my Chicago friend.” Noah joined us. “He’s AWOL in the labs. So where is he, Mom?”
Our daughter had her posse of brothers, lover, guardian, family, and friends ready to offer protection. I took comfort that she wouldn’t be alone like her brilliant mother had been. But none of us could block the effects of one nana chip embedded within her body. Or the power of the Bureau labs and their multi-corps clients.
“In here.” I led the two into the cook’s office, the closest place with a door. “Ahlmet’s presence is a matter of national security. Thank God, Lao is back with us because I believe he can manage this escalating situation. You two, Milan, Phoebe and myself are the only people beyond a few of Lao’s staff who know Ahlmet is here.”
They were adults, aware that forces of good and evil were not always neatly identified. They would also take risks to rescue Phoebe from her situation. I wasn’t sure which son was wired tighter at the moment.
“So we should volunteer our services to Lao?” Andrew’s response was not what I anticipated.
“I don’t think he needs help. What you should do is go about normal activities. Don’t tell anyone what you know. Anyone.”
Noah, the most peaceful but least predictable of our children, withheld commitment. He exchanged a long look with Andrew, the sibling with whom he shared almost nothing except for love of Phoebe and loyalty to our family.
“I’m serious,” I said in response to their silence. “We could have droves of regional police and Bureau security taking over Ashwood tonight if we don’t contain this situation.”
“We understand, Mom. Let’s take a walk, Noah.” Andrew put his hand on the door handle. “I’ll be back in about thirty minutes to make sure Phoebe gets to the briefing.”
“What briefing?” Noah, coming straight from hours studying in the lower level of the DOE building, didn’t know about the evening’s visitors or direction.
“I’ll share an outline of what’s happened since dinner.” Andrew opened the door. “If that’s okay?” He looked to me.
Unsure of Noah’s willingness to withhold information from his Bureau lab friend, I hesitated. “Remember, nothing happening here is to be discussed with anyone outside the three of us and Milan. Andrew agreed to that and you’re bound by the same confidentiality, Noah.”
He nodded his agreement as they left.
Chapter 19
Milan and Phoebe talked for more than an hour while the doctors assembled their report and Raima prepared a brief. Lao asked me to be available, but told me nothing about what was happening with Ahlmet. Additional security agents posing as members of the overnight crew or visitors filed into Ashwood in darkened transports. People familiar with the estate’s daily routine would know something was happening.
I checked on Paul and found David just leaving his father’s rooms.
“He’s asleep. His vitals are stable.” David looked tired, worried, every day of his age. I hooked my hand through his arm. “We’ll probably not do a lot of sleeping tonight,” he said. “Of course the DOE needs me on a 4:00 a.m., and I told Max I’d be at Giant Pines by eight.” His sigh fell heavy in the empty hall. “I feel old and kind of useless—Dad’s dying and I’m not getting any closer to a contact who can help Phoebe.”
We walked about six steps, as I thought of what to say and wanted to tell him about Ahlmet and the extra security gathering on our grounds. My communicator came to life with the long, high-pitched screech that indicated a serious condition somewhere on the estate.
If the alarm sounded a second time, people in the house would have less than two minutes to gather in the central hall before heavy screens cordoned off windows and other residence exposures and my communication device turned to monitoring of identification codes. Standing still, the residence in the deepening quiet of farmers’ bedtime, we waited.
“Anne,” Lao’s voice came over my communicator, “we have a Bureau situation. No need for lock down in the residence, although Ashwood is officially closed.” I wondered how individuals hired by Sadig were responding to Lao’s tight command.
“David and I are in the central hall.”
“Have all members of your family and guests remain in the residence or executive office building until you hear from me. We’ll meet in your office as planned.”
“Andrew and Noah are out walking the estate, Lao. Are they in danger?”
“They are in the kitchen.” Background noise filled our transmission. “And the doctors will be coming in the same entrance in about three minutes.”
“Is someone on the grounds?” Of course I was asking if Ahlmet was on the loose.
“Yes. Don’t worry.”
“Lao, this is David.” My husband’s tired face had transformed into alert. “I’m sure you’ll let Annie tell me what the hell is going on.”
“She should do that.” Lao’s words finished as my communicator fell quiet.
Chapter 20
Phoebe had an attack as she and Milan walked to the offices. He told me that they were talking about a kitten that kept the house free of mice, but also liked to drop on people from the top of shelves. She must have been using the conversation as a diversion from thinking about Ahlmet. When the disruption hit, Phoebe leaned against a wall, clenched her teeth and turned pale. Milan found dealing with the reality of the attacks very different from reading the doctors’ clinical assessment.
The whole event lasted more than a minute. While Milan was shaken and Phoebe tired, she pushed them forward, attempting to treat the brutal events as little more than a stubbed toe.
Without knowing how Ahlmet initiated the attack, Lao doubled security on our home and office building. Troubled by claustrophobia, Phoebe balked at being ordered to enter Ashwood’s safe room with Milan for the remainder of the night. We agreed to meet in my office with a dozen guards.
I don’t remember the clinical details or legal maneuvers discussed in the two hours we built plans for Phoebe’s fut
ure. She struggled through at least two attacks, and was forced to put her head down on the table during one. Frances and Twedt were by her side. We all silenced during those dreadful seconds.
For a socially awkward woman, our daughter presented facts like an experienced pro about what she required to function as a world-class researcher outside the Chicago lab. I’d hire someone with such polished speaking skills in a minute. The investments required were substantial even with Phoebe’s contribution. I made a note about protocol for bringing in my chief financial person to run numbers.
When we adjourned it was to spend the first hour of the new day drawing together loose ends for the leave of absence filing. In parallel action, Raima and Phoebe began preparation to file a report with the Chicago lab for physical and emotional harm and send notice to the labs of intention to not renew her contract. Ahlmet interrupted the session twice with attempted attacks.
Phoebe could set wheels in motion to free herself from her current work, but no one had found the way to free her from what immediately mattered. When we adjourned for a few hours of sleep, all of us knew Phoebe’s life was controlled by a brilliant and sadistic scientist.
David fell asleep while I washed my face, brushed my teeth and ran the mandatory monthly biostatistics from a saliva smear. A slight increase in blood sugars was noted. But at one thirty in the morning, with David’s alarm set for four, bio stats were meaningless.
He dressed without a light for the DOE call. I kept my eyes closed and prioritized the first three hours of my day. Financial modeling needed to be completed for a restructured Hartford, Ltd., with, and without, Phoebe. Key players must be updated about our corporate strategy expansion. Advisors from the intellectual security agency, our investment bank and Raima’s firm needed some time to respond to the plan.
David left and I sent careful instructions to Hartford’s senior managers and Clarissa. I had overspent the time I could be distracted from running the company. Habit more than hunger directed me to the kitchen. Terrell sat on a high stool, reading daily updates and drinking coffee. I said good morning and set about selecting fruit for breakfast. Neither of us spoke. The man who always had something to say stared out the window without one comment.
“Have a good day, Terrell.” Instead of filling a carafe with his exceptional coffee, I opted for a cup of tea.
“We’ve got something to talk about, Annie.”
I assumed Dr. Twedt had said something to Frances about the CIA comment. “I’ve only had two and a half hours of sleep, Terrell, and a long day ahead. Some other time would work better.”
“Not for me. I’d rather you didn’t carry around bad feelings.” Terrell pushed out the empty stool next to him. I heard the kitchen doors lock. “Please, sit. I got a cup of coffee ready for you right here.”
Phoebe’s claustrophobia wasn’t entirely genetic. The clicks of our lockdown mechanisms raised my blood pressure. “I appreciate your . . .” The word “honesty” stuck in my throat. He had brought the CIA into my home and business.
The Bureau of Human Capital felt authorized to collect data on me because I was a former employee and held significant current contracts. The Department of Energy had justification to information in my office as a business vendor and in our home as the spouse of one their emeritus intellectuals. At one time the Pentagon apparently had files on Anne Hartford because her husband was ambushed by one of their branches. But Terrell bringing the CIA to Ashwood was far more invasive.
I cleared my throat, started over. “Unlock the doors. We can talk after Raima, Milan and Twedt are gone.”
“It’s true, Annie. I was with the CIA when I came to Ashwood twenty-five years ago.”
“I remember having a discussion when you confessed you were assigned to Ashwood by the Bureau of Human Capital Management, but employed by the Department of Energy to keep an eye on Tia Regan.” I didn’t sit, stayed on my feet. “So how did all of that work with the CIA? You played double-agent plus estate cook?” Behind his handsome dark head, the sun was coming up. “What was of interest to the CIA in a little Minnesota estate in 2030?”
“You.”
“I was a widowed school teacher turned into estate matron of an underperforming farm. Hardly a person who could threaten the security of the United States.”
“Someone had big plans for you, Annie.” He let the words float across empty kitchen counters. “Assigned to the estate housing one of the country’s brightest scientist and her infant children. No common grunt is given that kind of challenge. CIA got interested in you when you were chosen to be the biological mother of an intellectual director’s child. You were no ordinary surrogate.” His musical voice wove a story from facts. “You never put the pieces together?”
“I’ve never taken the time to connect imaginary dots.” The pull of Hartford, Ltd., tugged, the place where I could make things happen, where history didn’t count as much as what happened today. Minutes were sliding away.
“You’re the one Milan always lets get away. I know he tried to lure you into Bureau jobs, landed those trips to Washington, D.C., hoping to bring back the life you could have had.”
“But why didn’t you tell me the truth, Terrell?”
“All I did was file reports. Daily on Tia, weekly on you.” Regret trolled under his words. “They already had access to Bureau info on you, but wanted more behavioral kind of stuff. I filled in boxes and wrote a few words. Good words.” His hands curled around the mug. “Everybody worked for everybody in those days. Mostly worked to make a few dollars and keep our families alive. I got one thousand dollars a month from the snoops and sent that to my sister for food. She didn’t believe you and me were scraping just as hard to feed the kids.”
Looking over his head at the bounty of Ashwood, I felt the cold hunger of those first months and the panic that children would starve on a nearly bankrupt estate. Terrell never faltered, always found a way to make frozen fish, powdered milk, and bread into meals those little people would eat. He made oatmeal creamy, baked it in squares with nuts like some fancy breakfast muffin, fried it up to serve with jam. He’d lifted an unspeakable fear of failing from my shoulders.
“You always been the straight arrow, Annie. Made it possible for lots of people to go on to better ways.” He stood and brought his hands up to his chest. “I didn’t expect to ever find a decent person in this place. After a few years I talked to Milan and he made it possible for me to quit the reporting job. By that time it was pretty obvious you’d never leave this place.”
“So you left the CIA?”
“Not exactly, but I became a reviewer. Watched communications from other regions for irregularities. Did that at night. Nothing to do with Ashwood. Eventually they made me leave here for an assignment before I could break my contract.” Walking across the kitchen, he held out his hand. Like the first morning in this kitchen when he said, “It seems like if you’re going to trust me to have my hands in the food you eat, you can trust me enough to shake hands.” That day I did. “That was the hardest move I ever made after the Second Great Depression. Moving from this place.” His hand didn’t shake nor did his voice. “It felt right coming back, especially without government dogs watching over my shoulder.”
I held out my hand then and accepted his strong arms around my shoulders. Pushed myself away, smiled, wanted to be on my way. “Sometime I want to hear more. Not now.”
“Let me make you a real breakfast and have it brought to your office.” Classic Terrell to offer nurturing. I hoped I could forgive and forget.
“Can you make it for two so David eats before heading to Giant Pines?”
Terrell nodded. “Breakfast for two is no problem. But no one leaves Ashwood until some mystery issue is resolved. You’ll have to talk to Lao.”
“Raima and Milan need to be gone by seven.”
“I think Raima’s gonna be
sending Milan an invoice for lost billings.”
Chapter 21
I could squeeze a day of work into sixty minutes if left alone. Before Milan and Lao appeared, communications with my senior management team and outside advisors were complete.
“Not yet six in the morning and the two of you together suggests trouble on Ashwood.” I pushed my chair back from my desk.
“Stay there, Anne. This won’t take long.” Lao walked back through the doorway and waved across the office for David to join us. This unnatural behavior from Lao brought me to my feet.
Milan tried to smile, but yawned. “I suspect Phoebe slept even worse than me. I’m told I snore and your safe room doesn’t have the latest in acoustics.” Another yawn started, but he clenched. “When I was awake, she appeared to be sleeping. No attacks during the night.”
Closing the door after David entered, Lao delivered three short sentences. “Ahlmet is on the loose within Ashwood. A guard found Hana in the clean conference room. I assume she released him.”
“Shit.” Muscles tightened around David’s mouth. “Where’s my daughter?”
“In the safe room.” Lao checked his communicator. “And will be until we have Ahlmet under guard.” His voice gentled, alerted me to something more sinister.
“How did Hana gain entrance to a room that isn’t on estate maps?” Milan watched David as I spoke. That one action tipped me off that another member of our family was in danger. “You haven’t told us everything.”
“Ahlmet has Noah.” David stared at Lao as if trying to decipher the meaning of his words.
We lived in violence-free peace on the estate. Occasionally metro turf wars came to Ashwood with new workers, but our screening processes were so complete that street weapons didn’t make it beyond the front gates. Now one of the most intelligent men in the nation held our son as a living shield.
Leaving Ashwood Page 13
