by Cat Connor
Didn’t really get us anywhere.
“Lee, where are the women now?” I asked.
“At the field office, waiting for us.”
“The author chick?”
“Not here, she’s back at the hotel. We still have a protection/surveillance team watching her.”
“Kris and Jerry?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, good.”
“And the Sonya the Czech, Slovak, Croatian?”
Sam laughed.
“We have her, ICE handed her over. They didn’t want anything to do with relocating a possible terrorist.”
“Is she a bomb?”
“Not now.”
Jeez. I was right. “Did she know?”
“No, or at least we don’t think she knew.”
“How?”
“Tampons. She was wearing one and had another two with her.”
“Exploding tampons and she didn’t know,” I said.
“They looked normal and like they’d come straight from a box, still in the wrappers. The only thing difference was the Semtex core and detonator.”
Jeez. I’d heard about the idea. It was developed as a way round the body scanners and sniffer dogs at airports. The mythical bomb had a kill radius of sixteen feet and detonated by pulling the string.
“Who is she really?”
“We still don’t know. Getting there, Ellie, getting there. There is an awful lot going on.”
I nodded and regretted it. “You need to find out where those tampons came from. I don’t want to hear they’re on shelves anywhere.” I paused. “As far as I know Al-Qaeda are the only group to have developed exploding tampons. They called them Sempax. It’s relatively new. I didn’t think they actually existed – we didn’t have any proof.”
“We’ve got Delta B on tracking the manufacturer and running the list of visitors to our young lady.”
“Good. Make sure they’re aware that this technology was claimed by Al-Qaeda.”
“I will.”
“Okay, this is what we’re doing. I’m getting out of here.” I sounded a lot more convincing than I felt. “I’m going to talk to our foreign friend and then we’re going to go talk to those women … tell me they are being held separately and that someone said the word terrorism, so I don’t have to deal with their State Department interference and have these women screaming for lawyers?”
“You’re not. We will talk to them all. They are being held separately and yes, terrorism was mentioned,” Kurt said from the doorway. I saw the syringes sticking out of the kidney dish in his hand.
I smiled. “We’ll see …”
As he walked toward me, I saw the uniforms outside the door. They were supposed to keep anyone from getting to me not me from getting out.
“Behave, Conway,” Kurt cautioned as he went through the procedure of injecting pain relief into the port in my hand.
The machine next to me, which had monitored my vital signs since I’d arrived, was silent. And pushed back against the wall. It was off. The sensors were gone. The only one left was a glowing red sensor on my finger. I followed the wire to something that looked like large digital watch on my wrist.
“What’s with the sensor and the watch thing?”
“Keeping an eye on your blood oxygen level and pulse rate for another few hours,” Kurt replied. Dropping the last syringe into the dish. “It’s a portable pulse oximeter and it sends data to my phone.”
Great. Portable is good.
“Why so interested in my oxygen levels?” A few things really annoy me and the biggest is being fussed over.
“If your lung collapses I want to know fast.”
“Excuse me what?”
“You heard.”
“Yeah, but no one’s mentioned a collapsed lung as a thing that could happen—”
“Chest trauma, abdominal trauma, being on a ventilator, surgery, it’s a possibility exacerbated by your build … tall and thin. You have risk factors. This is precautionary.”
I choose to ignore the notion of collapsed lungs. It sounded like something I didn’t want to know about.
“What else have you got?” I asked Sam.
“A get well card from Faye,” Sam replied handing a red envelope to me.
Trepidation pulsed as I held it in my hands. It felt bulky. A musical card? What were the odds?
“From Faye?” I knew my voice conveyed some of the trepidation.
“Yes. Problem?”
“Probably not.” I couldn’t bring myself to open the envelope. Staring at it didn’t magically give up its secrets. “Did Faye give it to you herself?”
Sam’s brow furrowed and his head shook.
“Give me the card,” he said, holding out his hand.
I placed the envelope in his hand. He turned and walked away. Lee followed him.
I watched them leave knowing what came next. My thoughts turned to prayer, well my version of prayer: Now’s a good time to prove you exist. You listening God? Don’t let my men go bang. I don’t mind if I never get another birthday, Christmas, anything card, in my life.
Twenty-Eight
Breathe
Sam and Lee were with the bomb squad regarding my not so cheerful get-well card. Kurt paced outside the door. He had his phone in his hand. By the grim look on his face I guessed he was talking to Caine.
“Do I have clothes?” I asked Mitch, then thought I should clarify. “Wearable ones?”
“Yes.”
“Will you help me?”
“Do I have a choice?” he asked.
“Not really. I need to shower.”
“Then I’m your man.” His smile widened.
“Pleased about that.” I adjusted my position, sitting up a little more. “Something’s are much more fun with you around.”
“You’re pretty flirty for someone who can hardly move,” he commented.
“Problem?”
“Not at all. Just want to make sure you’re okay.”
“You think this contraption on my wrist is waterproof?” I asked, inspecting the glow on my finger. Yep, I felt like ET. I pointed at Mitch. “Phone home.”
“Very funny. Let me have a look at the thing.”
He took a closer look at the device on my wrist and declared it waterproof.
“Great.”
“You sure you’re all right?”
“I’m fine. Let’s go try out the shower.”
I figured if I could walk to the shower under my own steam then I could go back to work. It may not have been the best plan but it was the only one I had. As awesome as Kurt, Sam and Lee were, they weren’t the ones who should be talking to a woman who had an explosive tampon inside her body. Just no.
“Whenever you’re ready, El.”
I hadn’t moved. Funny because I thought I had.
With care, I shifted to the edge of the bed. My hand connected with the remote. I lowered the bed about six-inches, intent on making standing as easy as possible.
“Okay. How far do you think the bathroom is?”
I was looking for something to focus on. Counting steps would do.
“Twelve feet.”
Easy. Yeah, easy.
Twenty-Nine
Symptom Of The Universe
I sat uncomfortably at my temporary desk in the Washington Field office and listened to Caine brief me on the current state of play. None of it was good. Lee and Sam questioned Trudi and Susan. As I suspected, they had no knowledge of any of the Indonesian connection. I wasn’t surprised to find Hollows say she’d never been to Switzerland and didn’t have a Swiss bank account. I wondered about Interpol and if they’d confirm that.
Danni was missing. For the life of me, I couldn’t understand how that happened. Except that things were confused, communication was a struggle at times and as far as we all knew there was still a bomber loose in the city. Because Danni wasn’t implicated in any of the scenarios, my surveillance team were re-prioritized. We had to rely on the electronic surv
eillance I’d had installed on her phone. The situation irked me. My gut said she was involved in something but that wasn’t enough to take Kris and Jerry off their SWAT duties to follow her. My gut also said the electronic surveillance was hinky as all hell.
“I can monitor her myself,” I said.
“And you need to delegate more,” Caine countered.
“I have been. You know I have.”
“I know that you shouldn’t be here,” Caine replied.
“You need me.”
He nodded. “Didn’t say we didn’t, but you shouldn’t be here.”
“But I am here, so use me.”
His lip twitched. “What do you see?”
“I see a mess. I see this being about three different things that overlap.”
“And they are?”
“An attempt on the President, bringing terrorism to D.C. to cripple the seat of power, and an all-out attempt on Delta A.”
“No one’s getting near Renegade after that movie came out. You know the one, Olympus has Fallen. You saw that right?”
“I did.” Gerard Butler was in it.
“The Secret Service doesn’t even want him in the bunker. He’s being moved around. The Secretary of State too and the Vice President.”
“Together?”
“No. The VP is at Camp David. The Secretary is out of the country.”
“Okay, so the President is safe. That leaves terror and the crippling of the seat of power and justice. So far quite successful, wouldn’t you say?”
Caine nodded. “We found another bomb, this time in the Capitol building mailroom. Another card, addressed to Senator Robinson.”
“Why?”
“We don’t know.”
“I got two, lucky me. Praskovya one and Senator Robinson one?”
Robinson. Rob. Was Arnie trying to tell me Robinson?
“That is what I was told,” Caine confirmed.
“The senator ever come to our attention for anything before?” Trying to make that sound like a casual inquiry.
“Not that I am aware of. Nothing flagged when his name came up.”
“So I need to find the link between me, Praskovya, and Robinson.” I didn’t remember ever meeting Senator Robinson. Every time I thought Robinson, I heard Arnie saying Rob. That was something I needed to look into. Praskovya’s connection to me I knew. He was our FSB colleague and a member of Delta A when necessary. That connection was easy. He was one of us. “Did anyone else receive cards?”
“Not as far as I am aware.”
“So that begs the question, why was I singled out from Delta A to receive cards?”
“Good question, Ellie. Although Sam and Lee did travel with your second card. It could well have been meant to take them out but failed.”
“Kurt?”
“Him too. You are all together often … there’s a good chance one card would either kill or maim all of you at once.”
Nice thought.
“Was the detonator faulty?”
“The chip was fried. The signal never got through.”
Not killing us was an accident. So, the woman could’ve been the backup, or the card.
Okay.
Breathe.
“Where’s Mitch?” It occurred to me I hadn’t seen him for half an hour. It felt odd not having him in the room.
“I sent him home—”
“And he went?”
“He had no choice. Kurt is with him.”
“Hang on, Mitch had no choice. My Mitch?”
His lip twitched twice. “Your Mitch is stubborn. I see why you two get on so well. He’s gone home to get some rest. Kurt will stay with him. No one associated with Delta A is to be alone.”
I smiled. Stubborn. Hell, yes. Although I preferred to think of Mitch as driven not stubborn. Semantics.
“Home?”
“Your place.”
Fantastic. A few hours rest would be good for them. I slowed my breathing and heard Mitch’s voice in my head telling me to be careful. That I could do.
“Right. I’m going to talk girl-talk with the woman we rescued. She’s here?”
“Yes, interview room down the hall. She’s not giving any information.”
“That could be because men keep asking her. She recently found out she had a bomb inside her. How would you feel? And she’s got her period. I mean, really? That meant whoever held her captive had her long enough to track her cycle.”
I willed myself to stand without wincing. Not easy but I did it.
“Good points.”
I thought so. I also wasn’t keen on using tampons any time soon. Okay, ever again.
Standing was good. Easier than sitting.
“I’ll check in later,” I said moving with care toward the door.
“Go easy, Ellie.”
I smiled and let myself out.
I knocked on the interview room door. A female agent opened the door from the inside.
“Ellie, you’re back,” she said with a smile.
“Maryann, how are the kids?”
“Growing too fast,” she replied. “I’ll introduce you, then leave you to it.”
“Thank you.”
She turned to the young woman at the table, who had been reading a magazine but now looked at me.
“Alexandra, this is SSA Ellie Conway. She’s going to spend some time with you. I’ll be right outside. You can call me if you need to.”
The woman nodded but said nothing. Maryann left and closed the door behind her.
“Do you mind?” I asked as I pulled out a chair opposite Alexandra. She shook her head. “Thank you.”
Sitting hurt. I regretted my decision but standing was too intimidating.
“Alexandra, yes?”
She nodded.
“Do you speak English?”
Again she nodded.
“Will you talk to me?”
Nothing.
“You have a family?”
She nodded. A tear slid down her face.
I waited.
She looked like she was going to speak. The look faded.
I watched her eyes as I spoke. “Mother, father, brothers, sisters?”
She flinched.
“Where is your family?”
“We were taken.”
“Taken?”
“From our family home.”
“Who was taken?”
“My sister and I.”
“Do you know where she is?”
She shook her head. “They took her away a week ago. I am not to see her again unless I do what they say.”
“Why did they take her and leave you?”
“I do not know.”
“Why did they take you both from your parents?”
“I do not know.”
“What does your father do?”
She shrugged. “He is working for government. I do not know what he does.”
“Your mother?”
A small but fleeting smile crossed her lips. “She is teacher.”
A teacher and a government worker. My money was on the unknown government job as a reason for the abductions.
“What is your father’s name?”
“Eduard Dobrovolný.”
“Thank you. You are Czech?” I needed confirmation.
“Yes. From Prague.”
I emailed his name to Lee with a note that he should run a background check and confirmation that Alexandra was indeed Czech.
“Mother’s name?”
“Alena Dobrovolný.”
I smiled. I emailed that name to Lee as well. I felt her becoming more relaxed.
“Would you like some tea?”
She nodded. I stood, took a moment to breath then walked to the door and swung it open.
“Maryann, any chance someone could get Alexandra some tea, please? And something sweet to eat. Chocolate?” I glanced at Alexandra. She smiled.
“Of course. I’ll do it. Everything okay?”
“Yes. We’re m
aking progress.”
I closed the door and sat down at the table. Not as easy as it sounds. Used to take sitting and breathing for granted, now, not so much.
“Tell me about your sister?”
“Anastazia is born after me. She is younger.”
I rechecked her initial story. “She was taken with you?”
“Yes. We were together in the place you found me.”
“Then what happened?”
“They take her away. The men. The next day the woman shows me pictures of Stazia. She is wearing only underwear and a man is holding a knife to her throat.” Another tear ran down her cheek. “The woman tells me it will be bad for my sister if I don’t do what they tell me.”
“What sort of bad, did they give you details?”
She nodded. “They say they will sell her to highest bidder but first they have their fun with her.” She swallowed hard.
“Why did you say you were here for a better life? When we found you?”
“I was told … what to say.”
Which is what I’d thought.
“Where are your parents?”
“I do not know. Home. Worried. I do not know.”
“Did anyone make contact with them that you know of? Ransom demands, anything?”
“I do not know.”
“Have you ever heard the name Rob mentioned?”
She shook her head.
“How about Robinson? Did that name ever come up? Did you ever met anyone called Robinson?”
She shook her head, then stopped. She looked at me. “No. But I heard them talking about someone called R.”
My mind wanted to jump ahead and make two plus two equal five. After a few moments of internal battle, my mind conceded I needed more information. I needed proof that R was Robinson.
Our tea arrived. We drank tea and visited. Alexandra talked of her life and her sister. Normal family things. Normal family life. Nothing that stood out. I was no closer to discovering why they were taken or where the sister was by the time I’d finished my tea and said goodbye.
Thirty
Cowboys From Hell
“Are you sure it’s Seamus Kennedy you saw?” I asked Lee as he lowered himself into a chair by my desk.
“Yes. He was in the Mall, pretty sure he was with Tim Jones.”
“They’re back, the quasi-UN?” I said. The first time we met, I dubbed them the quasi-UN, also, the International Rescue Squad because that’s what they were. They were in D.C. to find someone and reunite that person with her parents and here they are again, right when we have two women taken from their parents. Coincidence? I don’t believe in coincidences. “We’ve got Kennedy and Jones, how about Holmes and Praskovya? Are they here?”
