The Queen pbf-5

by Steven James

  “You’re leaving?” His eyes shifted toward me. “To what? To be with Pat?”

  “No,” I said.

  Lien-hua stepped forward, valiantly, one last time. “If we could all-”

  Sean lunged at me, two hands against my chest, thudding me into the wall. With my injured ankle it was a struggle to keep from toppling to the floor. “We broke things off,” I said, “before they went too-”

  “Kissing her wasn’t going too far?”

  “No, you’re right, it-”

  “Maybe you wouldn’t mind if Lien-hua and I took a little time to-”

  I positioned myself in front of him. “That’s enough.”

  “Stop it!” Amber implored. “Both of you!”

  Sean clenched his hands into fists, and I braced myself. This was something he needed to do, and, honestly, I felt like I deserved it. I could have ducked, could have blocked the punch or stepped aside, but I didn’t. I just said, “I’m sorry that things-”

  Then it came, fierce and hard, a haymaker to the jaw. The force of impact whipped me around, and I slammed into the wall. A sailboat painting a couple feet away crashed to the floor corner-first and sent a shower of glass shards spraying across the carpet.

  A moment later I heard Tessa’s footsteps on the stairs.

  “I never meant to hurt you,” I said to Sean and I meant it. Facing him, I wiped some of the blood from my lip. He was a powerful man and he hadn’t held anything back. I felt dizzy from the blow. “I’m very sorry.”

  “You kept this from me all this time.” Now the anger in his voice had turned into something harsher, deeper-a sense of betrayal.

  It’s your fault, Pat. This is all your fault!

  Amber’s eyes were wide with tears, and she had her hand over her mouth. She took a step toward us but paused as Tessa appeared at the doorway.

  “What’s going on? I heard-” She saw my bloody, already-swollen lip. “What happened to you?” Her eyes tipped toward the shattered picture. “Oh…”

  Sean cut into me with his eyes. “What you did wasn’t right.” Just those five final words, and that was all. It was as if he’d forgotten that Amber was even in the room with us.

  “I wish it’d never happened. Believe me. I knew it wasn’t right.”

  “This is…” Tessa said, putting two and two together. “Oh man.”

  Sean brushed past me and headed for the stairs that led to the garage.

  “Where are you going?” Amber’s voice was slight and uneven.

  He didn’t reply, just snatched his truck keys from the peg board at the bottom of the steps, and then he was out the door. He could have slammed it, but instead he let the door drift closed slowly, and that seemed to accentuate his anger even more forcefully than if he’d banged it shut.

  Amber retreated to her bedroom, and even from this end of the hallway I could hear her sobbing. Lien-hua left to console her.

  You did this, Pat.

  Five years ago you set this all into motion!

  My cell phone sat on the end table beside me. I picked it up to redial Burlman.

  “Are you okay?” Tessa said.

  “Oh, I’m on the brink of perfection.”

  I tapped at the screen to get to the missed calls.

  “I mean your face.” She sounded quite concerned.

  Frankly, I felt like I’d been blindsided with a two-by-four. I touched my split lip gently. “I’m fine.”

  Sean’s truck roared to life in the driveway.

  “Well, go after him.”

  “This isn’t the time, Tessa.”

  “Are you kidding?” She pushed my arm, lowering my hand holding the phone. “This is so the time. Go make things right.”

  “Tessa, there’s nothing I could say right now that would make things right.”

  “Tell him you’ll do whatever it takes. Because you love him. Because he’s your brother. Quick, do it. Before he drives off.”

  Our conversation earlier about forgiveness and denial and guilt seemed to be fueling her admonition for me to make amends.

  She was staring at me beseechingly, waiting for my reply. “Well?”

  If there’s any way to fix this, Pat, you should at least try.

  I processed everything for a second. “Okay.”

  I retrieved the keys to the cruiser and redialed the last incoming number, then grabbed my jacket and jogged as quickly as I could manage on my taped ankle down the steps.

  A man answered the phone, but it was not Hank Burlman; it was Alexei Chekov. “Agent Bowers, I’m going to tell you where Kayla Tatum is.”

  “I’m listening.” I threw open the door. “Talk to me.”

  77

  “Kayla is at the Schoenberg Inn.”

  “No.” I stepped into the frigid night. “We already looked there.”

  “There are rooms that would not have been searched.”

  “Where?”

  “The basement.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  I fought my way through the seething snow toward the police cruiser. Why is he using Burlman’s phone and not the phone from the station?

  “The Eco-Tech team paid the manager for exclusive use of certain rooms,” he told me. “I offered him substantially more than they did. When you get there, ask about the rooms in the south end of the basement.”

  Wouldn’t the officers who searched the hotel have known about them?

  Maybe, maybe not.

  Cranking open the car door to the cruiser, I climbed inside. “Is she all right?”

  “I anticipate that she should be fine.”

  Key in the ignition. “How did you get Burlman’s phone?”

  “The laces in my boots have metal-tipped ends.”

  I froze.

  He picked the cuffs, the cell’s lock. Tait didn’t listen to me. He let Burlman stand guard!

  “What did you do to him?”

  “I spent a few minutes with him. I didn’t need five.”

  My teeth clenched. “You killed him?”

  “No. But I’m not sure he’ll walk again. Both of his tibias are quite severely fractured.”

  The bone gun. He got into the evidence locker!

  I knew that Tait had left the station earlier, but the man working in the dispatch room would’ve still been there. “What about the dispatcher?”

  “He’ll be all right. The dispatch system, though, I’m afraid that will be down for a bit.”

  The taillights from Sean’s pickup were a quarter mile down the road already. Once again I thought that even if I did catch up with him, I was the last person on earth he would want to see right now.

  Unsure what to do, I let the engine idle.

  “Why are you telling me all this?”

  “I want you to find Kayla. I never wanted to harm her. I’m sorry we won’t have the chance to work together.”

  I could tell he was about to wrap up the call. “Alexei, what room is she-”

  “Good-bye, Agent Bowers.”

  The line went dead.

  I redialed the number.

  Nothing.

  Tried 911.

  No signal.

  I smacked the steering wheel, then punched in Tait’s cell number. “Where are you?” I said.

  “Just south of Woodborough.”

  “Alexei called me.”

  “What!”

  “We need an ambulance at the station ASAP. He’s free and there are two men down-Burlman and the dispatcher. It’s serious, but I don’t think their injuries are critical. Alexei also took out the EMS dispatch channel. And we’ll need to get some officers to the Schoenberg. Kayla’s there.”

  “We looked-”

  “No. The basement. Alexei said she’s in a room on the south end.”

  “All my men left the Schoenberg when we came up dry an hour ago. What did he do to the guys at the station?”

  “Burlman’s legs are broken, I’m not sure what he did to the dispatcher. How long till you can get someone b
ack out to the Schoenberg?”

  “Twenty minutes. Maybe fifteen.”

  No!

  I calculated the distance to the hotel from where I was.

  It’d be a long shot, even if I hurried, but if it took the officers twenty minutes, I might be able to beat them there.

  As long as the roads haven’t drifted shut.

  Get there, Pat.

  Now. Go.

  “I’m heading over there,” I told him. “If your officers arrive first, tell them to have the manager take ’em to those rooms in the basement. And they need to keep an eye on him; Alexei said he bribed him, but the manager might be more involved than that.”

  Bring Lien-hua. She’s better at interviewing victims and suspects than you are. Kayla might open up to her; give us an idea of where to look for Alexei.

  Hanging up with Tait, I left the car and hastened toward the house.

  Get the GPS ankle bracelet and the biometric ID card. This doesn’t end with finding Kayla.

  I burst through the door. “Lien-hua,” I called, “grab your coat.” Then I was on my way up the stairs. “We need to go.”

  78

  7:43 p.m.

  1 hour 17 minutes until the transmission

  “Why didn’t you go after him?” Tessa asked as I stepped into the living room.

  I could still hear Amber crying at the end of the hall. Even though I felt like I needed Lien-hua with me, considering how rough the week had been on both Amber and Tessa, I wasn’t excited about leaving the two of them here alone. However, at the moment it didn’t seem like I had a choice.

  “Patrick?” Tessa must have sensed my urgency. “What’s going on?”

  Time was of the essence, so I cut straight to the point. “Listen, there’s a woman who was taken, kidnapped. We might finally know where she is. Are you all right staying here with Amber?”

  She looked at me anxiously. “Who is it?”

  “Her name is Kayla. Will you and Amber be okay?”

  “Yeah, no, totally. We’re fine. We’ll be fine.” A line of worry scribbled across her face. “I didn’t know someone was kidnapped.”

  “Call me if you need to.”

  She was staring uneasily at me.

  “What?”

  “He hit you really hard.”

  I translated that to mean that my face was really a mess.

  Turning to the side, I drew my sleeve across my chin, leaving a long smear of dark blood on my jacket. I managed to keep from wincing from the pressure against my lip. “Lien-hua!”

  “I’m coming.”

  Back in my room I grabbed my computer, as well as Donnie’s biometric ID card, additional magazines for the Glock, my folding knife-a Randall King black automatic TSAVO-Wraith-the extra plastic handcuffs, and the GPS ankle bracelet. After encouraging Amber to call Lien-hua’s cell if there was anything we could do or if she needed to talk, I said an awkward and rushed good-bye. On my way through the living room I discreetly asked Tessa to text me as soon as Sean came back, then I left to meet Lien-hua by the cruiser.

  Sliding into the driver’s seat, I handed her my computer.

  “I can drive if you like,” she offered.

  “Sometimes I process things better when I’m behind the wheel.”

  I took us down the driveway, sliding momentarily on the ice. Wind-driven snow sliced at our headlights.

  “So the Schoenberg Inn,” Lien-hua said. “Alexei left Kayla right under everyone’s nose?”

  “If he’s telling the truth, yes. And if Kayla is there, I want you to talk with her first.”

  “Sure. Of course.”

  On the road I hit another patch of ice and we fishtailed precariously close to a snowbank, then straightened out again.

  “You sure you don’t want me to drive?”

  “I’m all right. See if you can trace the GPS location for Hank Burlman’s cell.”

  It only took Lien-hua a few seconds to put the trace through, but Alexei knew how to operate off the grid and not surprisingly she came up empty.

  A dozen puzzle pieces were cycling through my head. Too many things to keep straight. “Okay,” I said. “Check my email. There should be a file from Angela or Margaret containing the schematics for the ELF base.”

  Lien-hua clicked to my email. “No. Nothing.”

  “What’s taking them so long?” I muttered. “Send them both a message that we need that ELF info now.”

  Lien-hua did as I asked, then said, “Next.”

  “Two things. First, see if the Navy has had any communication problems tonight with the ELF base. Any alerts, anything at all.”

  “Who should I contact?”

  “Admiral Winchester is the one who put this case in Margaret’s lap. Try him. I’m not sure how to get in touch with him.”

  “I’ll figure it out. What’s the second thing?”

  “Check the statute of limitations for vehicular reckless homicide in Wisconsin. I need to know what they were twenty years ago.”

  A moment of silence. “What’s that about?”

  “When I was in high school there was an accident. Sean lost control of our car, there was a collision, a woman was killed.”

  “Oh, Pat.”

  “No charges were brought against him, but when we were in the garage just now he told me he’d had too much to drink that night before getting behind the wheel.” I didn’t want to add this last part, but I wasn’t sure if Lien-hua knew that my brother was only two years older than me. “Sean was underage at the time.”

  She quietly tapped at the keyboard. “I’ll see what I can find out.”

  79

  Tessa knocked on Amber’s bedroom door. “Hey, can I come in?”

  “Sure.” She could tell that Amber was trying to stifle her crying.

  Tessa opened the door somewhat haltingly and found Amber seated on the bed, a box of tissues on one side of her, a pile of crumpled tissues on the other. She was blowing her nose, doing her best to make it sound soft and insignificant.

  Whatever confidence Tessa had displayed a few minutes ago when she was reassuring Patrick that everything would be fine had now evaporated.

  “It’s gonna be okay,” she told Amber inaptly.

  Amber patted the bed. “Come here.”

  Tessa crossed the room and took a seat beside her.

  She’s taking depression meds, this must be totally weirding her out.

  “I’m sorry,” Amber said.

  “No, you don’t need to be sorry.”

  But Tessa wasn’t sure if that was true or not.

  Overall, Sean seemed like a nice enough guy, so on the one hand she was upset at Amber for wanting to leave him, but Sean had punched Patrick-which, actually, Patrick probably had coming-and Amber had told her earlier that Patrick wasn’t the reason she was leaving her husband, and apparently Sean did drink a lot, so it was hard to know what to think.

  Tessa wanted to remind Amber of the stuff they’d talked about at the motel about canceling debts and sacrificing for the benefit of the relationship and all that, but she wasn’t really sure if Amber needed to forgive Sean or divorce him. Obviously, Amber had issues too; however, as far as forgiving yourself, Amber had told her that she thought that sort of talk seemed arrogant, so in the end Tessa ended up saying nothing rather than chance saying the wrong thing.

  Instead, she just reached out and took Amber’s hand.

  And Amber let her hold on.

  “Okay,” Lien-hua said, “sat comm with the ELF station broke off a couple hours ago, but the Navy received a web-based encrypted audio message that everything is okay.” She paused then added, “Yeah, unlikely. I know.”

  I’d heard Lien-hua’s side of the conversation with the admiral’s aide but hadn’t been able to decipher all the specifics. “Who was the message from?”

  “A chief warrant officer named Dickinson. He said the storm took out the satellite communication and landlines and that he’d come to the surface to check in. Because of your su
spicions, though, the Department of Defense did a voiceprint analysis on the audio, and it was him. It’s confirmed.”

  Could he be working with someone? With Eco-Tech?

  “That’s not enough to convince me.”

  “Me either. But it seemed to reassure them for the time being.” Her voice stiffened. “They’re closely monitoring the situation.”

  “Closely monitoring it.”

  “Their words, not mine.”

  That phrase “closely monitoring a situation” really means “not taking any immediate action,” and that was the last thing I wanted to hear right now. I wished Torres and the SWAT team were here. I could sure use their help, especially if there was something going down at the base.

  “Pat, I’ll look up those statutes in a sec, but I never told you what I was working on at Sean and Amber’s house earlier-doing research, trying to pull together a preliminary profile on Valkyrie.”

  “What’d you find out?”

  “Unfortunately, not a whole lot. Valkyries are found in Norse mythology and were originally goddesses who flew over battlefields and determined who would be slaughtered and who would survive. Basically, angels of death. Eventually, the myths turned them into beautiful, alluring spirits who waited on slain heroes in Valhalla.”

  “Quite a transformation.”

  “Well, beauty and death are central themes of nearly all mythic systems. Very Jungian-if you buy into that. Anyway, psychologically, the code name draws from images of death, eternity, beauty, marriage. Maybe even judgment or eternal rewards.” She paused slightly. “Code names by high-level operatives are rarely chosen indiscriminately.”

  I thought of the Bible reference to the bride of the Lamb and the seven last plagues: images of death, eternity, beauty, marriage.

  It seemed like more than a fluke to me. “Anything else?”

  “Our guy will be experienced in law enforcement or involved in the intelligence community. Midforties. Computer science training. High intelligence. A history of international travel. Multilingual. Male. Nationality at this point is still too hard to call.”

  “But a Valkyrie is a goddess. Why are you thinking we’re looking for a male?”

  “Female criminal masterminds might make good villains on the big screen, but they’re almost unheard of in real life. For the most part, spying is a man’s game. We should also look for possible religious idealism or mission-oriented terrorist affiliations. Possible motives: revenge, monetary gain, ideology.”