by Cat Connor
“On my way,” he replied. “Kurt is with me.”
“Good.” I hung up, this time I kept my phone in my hand and continued through the woods.
Mobil on Gallows was right across the road from Inova Fairfax, so I was right about being close to the hospital. Wherever I was held was further along the road and it took a while for me to walk through the woods and find the path that led to Exxon Mobil.
Thirty-Eight
Over The Wall
The quiet by the Exxon Mobil building was deafening: very few cars in the parking lot, but lights on in the building. I tried the door. Locked. I checked the time on my phone. Too early for more than a handful of dedicated souls to be at work. I waited near the main entrance wrapped in the blanket, clutching the gun. Cold bit into my bare feet and curled up my legs. It felt like I’d been standing on the cold concrete for hours but it was probably minutes. Sitting was not an attractive alternative but I considered I could curl up on the blanket and still have it around me. Might be warmer.
As soon as I sat down, I knew I wasn’t getting up again under my own steam. I was done. Exhausted. Hurting. Shaky. Cold and really thirsty. Hungry not so much.
A squirrel scampered across the road from the woods and ran up a cherry tree nearby. At least it wasn’t a duck.
I heard a car coming. My hand adjusted on the grip of the SIG. My index finger moving against the edge of the barrel felt comforting. A black Ford Explorer came into view; I didn’t breathe out until I saw the tag number. Kurt’s car. The car pulled up. Mitch dove out the driver’s door and slid around the hood.
“El?” He crouched in front of me.
I managed a smile. “Yep.”
“Want a hug?”
“Yes.”
His eyes gleamed in the new day as he smiled. “Standing or here?”
“Here.”
I can’t stand.
He wrapped his arms around me then leaned back, a questioning look in his eyes. “Tell me that’s a gun?”
“It’s a gun.”
I placed the SIG on the ground and slid my arms inside Mitch’s jacket. The warmth from his body helped. Kurt knelt next to us. I felt him touch my head and winced. Mitch’s arms tightened around me.
“You scared me,” he whispered in my ear.
Kurt inspected the wound in my head. I held onto Mitch. He talked. Soft words flowed. Lulling me into a sense of security. The rhythm of his heart matched mine.
I turned my head a little to see Kurt.
“Conway, where were you being held?” Kurt asked.
“A building near the hospital.”
“Were you on Gallows?”
I nodded.
“Is that where you were held?”
I nodded again.
Words in my head tumbled around as I tried to get them out in some semblance of order. “Need SWAT. Two bodies.” There was the tampon too. No blocking that out. “Kurt. Tampon by the bed.”
Mitch’s arms tightened around me. “They’re not words, baby,” he whispered in my ear.
What was he talking about? Of course they’re words. I just told them where I was held and what they’d find there.
Kurt took out his phone and made a call. Moments later he said, “You need to be in hospital.”
“No, I don’t. Get whatever you need to patch me up. We’re going to the hotel. No hospitals.”
At least they were the words in my head. Judging by the look on Kurt’s face, I didn’t say anything like that.
“That garble is worrying,” Kurt said.
I tried again.
“No.”
“No?” Kurt queried.
“No … hospital.”
“Conway, you need medical care.”
Medical care? I needed the bomb squad. I had a horrible feeling there were two tampons which is why I could remove one so easily: it wasn’t inserted correctly and there wasn’t enough room for the second one. The tampon I’d removed was longer than the normal non-explosive type.
A duck quacked and flapped its little wings as it half flew, sort of jumped to Kurt’s head.
“No.” My agitation rose.
“Shhh,” Mitch said holding me tighter. He spoke to Kurt, “Is the hospital absolutely necessary?”
“She has another head injury. I think so.”
“No!” I struggled against Mitch trying to break free and stand. Fuck this. I’m going to call the bomb squad myself. Keeping the whole tampon thing at a distance was working for me. The minute my mind tried to wander into the dangerous space labeled ‘who violated Ellie?’ I shut it down. Don’t go there.
“Shhh,” Mitch soothed. “I’ll help you stand.” He did. His hands wrapped the blanket around me and drew me close. Mitch’s voice slipped sideways.
“Bomb.” I saw the words grow feathers and fly away. As they flew, they pulled a thread in the sky, unraveling the gray-blue, leaving inky black.
I fell through the black, toppling head first into nothing.
Eventually the nothing became a steady beep, beep, beep.
The beep led to light.
At first, it was dim and soft-focused. After a while, it sharpened and the world was back. I was alive.
“Hey, you,” Mitch said from a chair by my bed. “How you doing?”
My mouth turned up at the corners. I’m okay.
“Okay.”
“You took a nap,” Mitch replied, pressing something near my hand but on the bed. I heard a buzz. My eyes closed again. I was warm. Mitch was with me. Sleep beckoned.
Thirty-Nine
Rainbow In The Dark
Mitch
“She’s gone again,” I said as Kurt hurried into the room.
“To be expected,” he replied checking the equipment. “Leon will be in soon. I need another opinion.”
“Did you find where she was held?”
“We think so. No evidence at all apart from the tampon. Whoever cleaned the cell missed that. No bodies. No one saw Conway.”
“Her clothes etcetera?”
“Clothes, boots, gun and holster, wallet and badge, all found in a neat stack outside the Washington Field Office.”
“Isn’t that a little weird?”
“Yes. Bit odd that the only prints on anything were yours and Conway’s.”
“My prints on her stuff isn’t odd.”
“Well, no, but what is odd is that there were no other prints, not even mine. And I had her gun in my possession a few times over the last week. My prints should have been on it as well as her holster and her belt.”
“Now that is odd.”
“I’m thinking someone cleaned everything and added back your prints and Conway’s. But how would someone get prints?”
“Same way someone took her from outside the field office? We’re being watched from the inside?”
Kurt nodded. “That’s what I’m thinking. CCTV operates in the hallways, stairwells, entrance and exits.”
“Someone didn’t necessarily need to be in the building then, they just needed to be able to access the feed?”
Kurt nodded. “That’s right.”
“Anyone watching that feed would’ve seen us go in different directions.”
“If that’s what happened, then yes, they would’ve seen their window of opportunity to grab Ellie.”
I let that roll around in my mind for a moment. “How did anyone manage that?”
“It would’ve taken more than one person and judging by the wound in her scalp she was hit with something, pistol-whipped maybe.”
She wouldn’t have left willingly and it had to be quick. That made sense to me. My attention returned to the fingerprint thing. “We both had drinks while in the building, we left coffee cups in the break room.”
“That is not comforting, Mitch.” Kurt replied, grim-faced. I was used to seeing him serious but with a bit of light in his eyes. No light now, just dark.
“Surveillance video from the private hospital?”
“Erased.�
�
“Surveillance from the field office cameras, there are cameras overlooking the street?”
“Erased. Sandra’s working on trying to recover any hidden temporary files. She’s good, so if there is anything at all, even a shadow of the erased timestamps, she’ll find it.”
I settled back into the chair. My eyes fixed on Ellie. She slept. Seemed good that she slept, as long as she woke up again. My mind wandered. Images from the night before crowded in, I scanned them for anything that might lead to a person: someone was responsible – and someone knew who.
Kurt pulled up a chair and sat on the other side of Ellie, near the monitors.
“The women?” I asked. Not entirely sure what my question was.
“The lawyers are trying to secure their release. I’ve turned it over to legal, they can deal with it.”
“Are they being held on any charges? Don’t you have a limit for how long you can hold someone without charging them?”
“Yes, we do and then the Patriot Act kicks in and all bets are off.”
“Are they being charged?”
“Not at this stage. Legal are talking conspiracy to commit terrorism. That should keep them in custody for a bit longer.”
“Are they involved?”
“No, I don’t believe so. They’re being used.”
“And you’re holding them why?”
“To make it hard for the puppeteer to carry on.”
“Puppeteer,” I repeated. Good description.
“We’re holding the two women for the same reason Conway took the battery out of her phone.”
I nodded. “Why is this happening?”
“I don’t know,” Kurt replied. “The only one who might have a shot at figuring it out is Conway. Her brain works differently from the rest of us. She sees things we don’t.”
“She’s not seeing much right now,” I said, holding her hand in mine.
“Don’t be so sure. I’ve known her to wake up with amazing insight. I don’t know where she goes but she comes back with things that boggle my brain.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“Trust me,” Kurt replied. He regarded me for a moment then spoke again. “You operate a little like she does.”
“A little. I see what she lets me see. I saw the room where she was held.”
“But not where she was, correct?”
“Correct. She didn’t know, so she couldn’t share it.”
“Try seeing what’s happening in her head now. I need to make some calls and make sure everything’s moving forward.”
“I’ll try.”
Kurt stood up and leaned over Ellie. “Wake up, Conway. Washington is burning and you’re the only one who can figure this out.” He waited for a few seconds. No response. “I’ll be back soon. If Leon comes in while I’m gone, give me a call.”
“Sure.” I had Ellie’s phone in my pocket. I patted my jean pockets just to make sure.
Kurt slid the glass door open then closed it behind him. He walked away, leaving us alone. The quiet punctuated only by the steady beep from the monitor on the other side of the bed. Her breathing so soundless, if it weren’t for the monitor I’d have to check every few minutes to make sure she was breathing.
I closed my eyes and leaned back in the chair, focusing on Ellie. Positive, healing, happy thoughts about what we’d do when she recovered. Vacation. Yes, a vacation. Just us. Somewhere warm and anonymous. Somewhere by the sea. Fishing. We would go fishing. Yes, fishing.
Sometime later Kurt entered the room again. “Everything all right?”
“I think so,” I replied. I had questions but every so often with questions, I’ve found I don’t really want to know the answers. Did I really want to know the answers this time? I couldn’t be sure.
Before I could stop myself, the first question was upon me and directed at Kurt. “Will she remember what happened?”
“I don’t know,” Kurt replied. “Depends on the head injury, depends if she lost consciousness at all while she was gone, and it sounds like she did. It also depends on whether she was drugged. I suspect she was given something to keep her unconscious, maybe even Ketamine.”
“And that is?”
“A pain killer, anesthetic, memory eraser ...”
“And you think she was given that drug?”
“Yes. I’m waiting on toxicology to confirm or otherwise the presence of drugs in her system.”
“Do you know what happened to her?”
“Not really. Not much more than what Conway told you on the phone.”
Not much more. So they did know more.
There was a question sitting there. Ominous. Unasked and unanswered. This could be one of those times that I don’t want to hear the answer. If El had no memory, did I need to know?
“Should I ask?” I whispered to Ellie, as she lay pale and silent. Uncharacteristically still.
“She can’t answer you, Mitch. And I can’t answer for her,” Kurt replied.
Another thought barreled into my consciousness. DNA. Swimmers to be precise. It wasn’t a great thought. Telling Kurt that our relationship was physical wasn’t my idea of a good time. Also, if I asked him about DNA, then I’d have half an answer regarding my unspoken question. I’d know he did a rape kit. I swallowed hard. Maybe not. He did say the ultrasound showed another tampon, which he removed. DNA could be on that. Another explosive-filled tampon. She obviously didn’t know there were two. Even if she had, there was no way she could have removed the second one without using the cord. Kurt used forceps.
“DNA?”
“Will it be yours?”
“Yes.” And hopefully no one else’s.
“Then I need a sample of your DNA. Unless it’s on file?”
“It’s not. My fingerprints are. Where did you find the DNA?” Feeling brave, asking the hard questions.
“On the tampons.”
I nodded.
“I’ll be right back,” Kurt said. I saw his mouth curve upward as he turned away and left the room. I was surprised and relieved that he didn’t have a comment to make.
Kurt returned with a long cylinder in his hand. From the cylinder, he took a cotton swab. It looked like a giant cotton bud and handed it to me.
“You can do this yourself. Rub the swab over the inside of your cheeks.”
I did as he instructed and then handed it back. Kurt sealed the swab into the cylinder and wrote on the outside.
“Be right back.” He had his phone in his hand and made a call as he left the room.
I settled back and watched El breathe, still holding her hand and not wanting to let it go in case she didn’t know I was there. I concentrated on sending as much positive energy to her as I could. I had a lot, plenty for her and me, until she woke up and bounced back. Her eyes flickered every now and then. Hope. That’s what the flickers were. Hope that she’d wake up and not remember anything bad that may have happened to her.
I didn’t want her to carry anything that ate away at her sense of security or sense of who she was. I knew that wasn’t up to me, but if it were, I’d carry it all and never let her know what transpired. A soft moan came from the bed.
“El?”
Forty
Guardian
“Mmmmitch?”
“Right here.” He held a straw to my lips. “Drink?”
That was exactly what I needed. Cool water felt good.
“Am I okay?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” I sighed without meaning to. “Hospital again?”
“Yes. Before you get cranky and want to leave, you had to be here.”
I considered his words as the events that led to me passing out in his arms outside Exxon Mobil came back in glorious Technicolor. Deep breath. No real pain. That was a plus.
Bits and pieces, images, feelings, random thoughts all jumbled together. There were two tampons. That was why the one I removed wasn’t inserted properly. No room in the inn.
“Did Kurt fin
d the other tampon?” I looked Mitch in the eye. “This is where you say ‘yes.’”
He smiled. “He did.”
“Did they find where I was held?”
“Yes. But apart from the tampon there was no evidence that you’d been there.”
“Good thing I hid it then.” My throat was dry. Mitch held the straw to my lips again. Nice.
“I’m glad you’re awake,” Mitch said putting down the glass. He leaned over and kissed me. Slow warm kisses that reminded me how good life could be.
“Me too.” I smiled. A real smile. An ‘everything will be okay’ smile. I had nothing to base my feeling on but I didn’t need anything. I knew deep down it would be okay. “Now I’m awake, let’s get back to work. Got a perverted piece of terrorist shite to find.”
“Not so fast, Grasshopper. Patience. You have another head injury. We’re waiting for your neurologist for the second time this week.”
“Really? I thought it was a flesh wound?”
“Yeah, you would. Let’s let the doctors decide, shall we?”
“You sure? Because I feel pretty good.”
I wasn’t lying. I did. All things considered. Helicopter being shot down. Getting into a fight with broken ribs. Having two head injuries and a recent brush with a partially deflated lung. I was, all things considered, feeling as okay as humanly possible. And happy for no fathomable reason other than Mitch was right there. Maybe that’s all I needed. Maybe he’s all I’ve ever needed. Timing. It’s all in the timing.
I fumbled for the bed controls. Sitting up seemed like a good place to start on my quest for release.
Forty-One
Elimination
Looking out the window while I waited in my hospital room for Mitch to do whatever he needed to do, I noticed a car I’d seen before. Danni. I wondered how she gave her surveillance team the slip.
Feeling the love. Everything in my world was where it should be. Odd thought to have. I pondered on it for a moment. It was almost as if Danni had become a stalker. The woman wrote books and her main character or protagonist, or whatever the term was, was me? But she was also Interpol? Did we ever get verification of that? I scoured my memory looking for something that identified her as Interpol and remembered the conversation I had with Iain Campbell. Yes, verification. She was Interpol and here on some special assignment.
