by Fiona Quinn
A man in a grey suit staggered toward the front door. The colonel glanced back toward Gage and scowled. “Son…” His head swung back to the drunk staggering up the stairs. “God damn it.”
Gage got the message. “Would you mind if I helped myself to a glass of water in your kitchen?”
Colonel Guthrie reached out and thumped Gage’s shoulder. Gage moved toward the back of the house where he expected the kitchen would be. His ears pinged when he heard the colonel say, “Senator, you’re going to get arrested for DUI, and you don’t need that kind of publicity.”
“She’s dead,” the senator sobbed.
“Who, Barbara? Shit, Chuck, come on. Let’s sit down before you fall down.”
“Not Barbara. I told you… Oh my God, I loved her. I really loved her.”
“You mean—? Oh, holy hell.”
“I stopped by a pub for a beer and a steak. I’m looking up at the news, and there’s her picture. They said she’s dead.” A long pause was punctuated with a groan. “I have hearings in the morning. She was my main researcher. Somehow, I have to sit there and face the day without letting anyone know how much she meant to me. I won’t be allowed to grieve. We went over all of those notes together. How can I look at my notes without remembering her beautiful black eyes? How silky her hair felt as she let it paint over my stomach?”
“All right, stop. Facts. You were having an affair with your researcher, she died tonight—”
“Her picture was on the news,” the senator slurred out. “They’re saying it’s under investigation. They’ll find out that she worked for Montrim Industries, and that she was a whistleblower. They’ll dig deeper, and they’ll figure out we were lovers. My wife is going to know. My career in politics is over. Over. Just as I was primed to stop Montrim.”
Gage was prowling the kitchen. The senator had said three things that made him think that this was about Zoe—the woman had black eyes, she worked for Montrim, she did research. There was also that conversation between the FBI and DCPD where a misunderstanding was supposed to be seeded about Zoe’s possible death. Had the reporters run with that idea? Had they reported it as a suspicious death? Or was Gage overreaching because everything for him revolved around Zoe right then?
“Chuck, listen to me, you have to lay low, let this storm pass—give the Montrim fight to someone else.”
Gage moved on silent feet into the hall and was now plastered against the wall leading to the living room so he could hear better.
“I have to go after them!” the senator roared. “They’re playing with apocalyptic weapons of war. Look at the experiments they’re doing with weaponized sound waves.”
“Ah, but it’s better than nuclear, isn’t it?” the colonel asked calmly, reasonably. “You need to let this crusade against Montrim go. Think what they’re doing for us. If we had that sound technology, we could wipe out the enemy and leave their infrastructure unscathed. And there would be no lasting residual effects on the environment. Think of the soldiers’ lives that would be saved.” Colonel Guthrie was talking logically; which Gage thought was a waste of breath. “Sure, the area would have to be repopulated from the bugs, to the animals, to the humans. But it is so much better for the world than nuclear. In this day and age? You can’t not have a deterrent.” Guthrie stopped and laughed, a thin, forced laugh. “Listen to me trying to reason with a drunk. Chuck, let’s talk about this when you’ve got your wits about you.”
“We tried it already with the nukes and where did that get us?” the senator asked dolefully.
“The sound deterrent is formidable and one of the best weapons possible to create a post-nuclear world. There would be no nuclear showdown. We’d simply deploy the sound waves before they pushed their buttons.”
What in the hell are they talking about? Could Zoe be working on apocalyptic weaponry? As gentle as her soul always seemed to him, that…that was a mind blower.
“See? Saying it that way, you’ve convinced yourself, and you can convince others, that it’s benign. Simply wipe everyone out of a certain area, and we can move in. But you’re talking about every living thing. Women, children, infants in arms. Genocide. And it’s so much easier to make the decision to use sound weaponry over nukes because we wouldn’t have the ongoing radioactive consequences. Thereby making it more likely that it will be used.”
The colonel’s voice came from over in the corner where he had poured his drink earlier. Gage could hear a glass stopper being pulled from the neck of a decanter. “Okay, devil’s advocate here. If we don’t get there first with the research, someone else will, and we’ll have no defense against this thing. Are you willing to let China get their hands on this technology first?” There was a pause in which Gage imagined the colonel belting back his drink. “Senator, why are you screwing up my lawn in the middle of the fucking night?”
“I need you. I need you to come and testify at those hearings.”
“Senator, honestly, I’ve told you. I will not testify against Montrim. I’m not ready to retire yet. And me going up against the defense contractors? I’m not suicidal. Look, it’s almost two in the morning, you’re sloshed. Why are you here?”
“Please, Stan, I’m drunk. I’m sick with grief. I can’t face my wife tonight. Can I stay?”
The colonel released an exasperated sigh. “The guest room is up the stairs, second right.”
Gage moved back into the kitchen, yanking his earbuds out of his pocket and sticking them into his ears. By the time the senator was climbing the stairs and Colonel Guthrie had made his way to the back of the house, Gage stood at the kitchen door, looking out on the manicured garden with his head gently bobbing as if to a good tune.
“Sorry for the interruption. What were we saying?”
Gage pulled the buds from his ears. “Did your friend leave?”
“He’s upstairs, sleeping it off.”
Gage nodded as he stepped forward, his hand extended to shake with the colonel’s. “Okay, I’m on my way to the hospital. You have company, so I’ll call you if anything concerning comes up.”
“Thanks, Marine, I’d appreciate that.” Colonel Guthrie shook Gage’s hand, then he moved to a shelf and picked out a card from a small stack. “This one has my private number on the back.” He handed it over then tapped it when Gage had it in his fingers. “It will get me on the phone instead of an answering service. Use that if you need me.”
Gage moved through the front door, down the steps, and over to the senator’s car. As the senator had made his way to the house, he’d left the car door standing open. A wallet lay on the ground. Gage picked it up and gave it a quick onceover. He reached into the slit meant for business cards and pulled them out, turning them over and fanning through the stack until he found three where “private cell” was handwritten on the back along with a number. If he ever needed to ask the senator a question, Gage didn’t want to be last in queue on some aide’s list of people to ignore that day. Gage pocketed one of them, slipped the rest in place, then put the wallet on the floorboard. He pulled the keys from the ignition, set them next to the wallet, and quietly closed the senator’s door.
Gage climbed back into his SUV, feeling like he was waiting for a grenade to explode.
Chapter Five
GAGE
There were no cars on the highway as Gage drove to Inova Alexandria Hospital and parked in the garage. The closer he got to Zoe, the louder his danger signals pinged. He met with the security guard at the front desk and was relieved that the guy did a thorough job with the identification process.
“Has anyone else been in to see her?” Gage asked.
“Not so far, sir.” The guard passed him back his military ID and driver’s license.
Gage gathered his things and made his way to Zoe’s room, nodding at the desk nurse as he passed by. Standing by Zoe’s bed, the room dark except for a dim utility light, Gage’s gaze followed the tubing from the IV bag down to her elbow. She had curved into a ball around her pillow, her l
ong hair fanned across the white sheet, her face peaceful and still. He put a hand on her back to feel the reassuring rise and fall of her breathing.
Gage swallowed down the bitter taste that sat on his tongue. He didn’t know what to think. He scanned the room, then moved to a chair in the far corner. Pulling out his phone, then sliding down to rest his head on the back of the seat, he splayed his long legs out in front of him. He’d learned how to relax and rest his body whenever possible to recharge for the next battle. And Gage knew in his gut that there were more battles to come.
He checked to see if anything had come through from Titus. There was nada. Next on his list was finding out who the senator was talking about when he said his lover had died. He started with local News Nine and on their website’s front page was a picture of Lily Winters, Zoe’s college friend who had stayed with Zoe while she left a bad marriage and found a place of her own. Lily had moved out of Zoe’s apartment…what? Maybe three weeks before?
The news reported that Lily Winters had fallen onto the Metro platform without enough time for anyone to jump to her aid. Gage hit the arrow to watch the video that came with a “Sensitive Subject Matter” warning label. The sound of a reggae band loudly playing the steelpans came to an abrupt halt when a scream went up. Someone had recorded Lily lying on the tracks, looking like she was unable to move. Adrenaline? Drugs? Alcohol? Gage registered fear in her wide-open eyes and raised brow, so he put an x over the second two options. The crowd was yelling for her to get up, to hurry, as they looked down to where she lay beneath them.
As the light of the subway powered forward, their cries became a horrified mantra, like a choir they sang in unison, “Stop! Stop!” They leaned together out into the open space, waving their arms frantically to signal the engineer to apply the emergency brakes. It must have worked, because the subway seemed to slam to a halt. The video panned back to Lily, who had managed to get herself up on her feet. She stretched her hands toward the men who would pull her to safety. She took a single step forward. The video bounced up, missing the last moment as the subway hit Lily and came to a stop a mere two or three feet further down the track. Screaming could be heard from the platform, anguished cries of disbelief.
Lily was dead. Shit. Gage wiped his hand over his face. He didn’t really know her but from brushing by her in Zoe’s hallway or grabbing a quick breakfast before he took off for Quantico. She seemed like a nice person. Intelligent. Sarcastic with a bawdy laugh. He seemed to remember that she worked as an accountant. Had she said she worked for Montrim? He didn’t think so. Gage glanced over to where Zoe’s unmoving body lay under the hospital sheet and cotton blanket. He was going to have to tell Zoe about her friend before she heard about it online. Zoe was still in recovery from her own shocking experience and now here was another one for her to assimilate.
Gage did another search and decided that Lily’s death was the only one that was being reported locally that night. Lily must be the Senator’s mistress and the whistleblower. Maybe. Gage realized he was jumping to conclusions.
If Lily was the mistress, then she must have been trying to help the senator take down her employer. If the employer was Montrim Industries, well, that was a major player in the vast military complex that Eisenhower had warned the country about over fifty years ago.
Zoe worked for Montrim. Or at least, she had an access badge. He wasn’t clear who exactly Zoe worked for. He looked at the time stamp on the subway video, twenty-three twenty hours. Only an hour and a half after he’d opened Zoe’s door and neutralized the tangos. Was it possible the intruders weren’t after Zoe at all? Maybe they had been tasked with taking Lily captive. She had been living in that apartment up until recently. Someone could be working from old intel.
Gage wanted some answers. How did Lily land on that subway rail? Why couldn’t she move to get up? Was she really the woman who was sleeping with Senator Chuck Billings? Or was Gage pushing to put two and two together when that wasn’t the equation at all? He’d know whether Lily was Billing’s lover if he could get a look at her phone. Gage pulled the business cards he’d been collecting tonight from his pocket, wondering which one might be his ticket to some answers. He picked out the one for Special Agent Damion Prescott, moved into the hall so as not to disturb Zoe, and tapped in the number.
“Prescott here.”
“Special Agent? This is Gage Harrison. Have you got a minute?”
“Where are you?”
“Up at the hospital. Zoe’s been admitted for shock and exhaustion. She’s asleep right now.”
“I appreciate the update.”
“Sir, I’m wondering if we couldn’t give each other a helping hand.” Gage scrubbed his fingers over his eyes.
There was a pause. “How’s that?”
“I came by some information that might be helpful. A correlation that you might not turn up on your own. But there’s something I need in return.”
“Withholding information on an ongoing case is a serious problem, Major.” Prescott’s voice was shaded a bright color of “don’t fuck with me.”
“There’s a woman in the Alexandria, Virginia morgue who may have a connection to the case. I’ll be happy to explain that connection if you can help me get a look at her phone. I want to see who she’s been calling.”
“When was she taken in?”
“Around midnight.”
“Tonight? Is this Lily Winters and the Metro rail accident?”
“Yeah, I’m not convinced it was an accident as much as an on purpose.”
“Huh. And you think this is connected to the Zoe Kealoha attack?”
“I’d have to let you draw your own conclusions, sir. But yes, that’s what I think. Is it possible to meet me down at the medical examiner’s office? I need to be back to the hospital by zero five hundred hours.”
“Because?”
“That’s when the guard at the front desk loses his ability to keep Zoe’s room free from bad guys.”
“Got you. Lily Winters was hit by a subway. Her body’s going to be crushed. Exactly what information do you think you’re going to get from seeing her?”
“My understanding, sir, is that any personal effects that belong to the deceased are gathered up and taken with the body to the morgue. Isn’t that the case?”
“Yes, if they find something.”
Gage leaned into the wall as a janitor pushed a bucket on by. “My theory can be proven, if I can see her phone.”
“If her phone was with her, it’s bound to be destroyed. What do you think’s on it?”
“Corroboration of a connection that I’m trying to make for you.” Gage was growing impatient with this back and forth.
“The Medical Examiner’s Office doesn’t open until eight. Chances are good that we won’t get anywhere until then. But I get that your window is tight. We can take a run at it. Worst case, they turn us away. Or the phone isn’t functional.” Prescott paused. “But whatever the outcome, you’re going to make the connection for me.”
“Agreed.”
It was a long shot. But at least he’d squeezed the trigger. Now Gage needed to wait and see if he got a bull’s eye.
Chapter Six
GAGE
Gage’s footsteps echoed off the cement ramp as he jogged toward his car. He didn’t have time to play around. Zero five hundred hours was moving up fast. His tires squealed as he took the corners to the exit at speeds not intended for a hospital parking garage. Without having to dodge traffic, and by playing fast and loose with the red lights, he was parked and climbing the stairs just behind Prescott.
Prescott flashed his badge and the security guard pushed the door wide.
“We don’t open ‘til eight, sir.”
“I’m working with Homicide Detective Kirk Browning on a case of national importance. It’s time sensitive. I just need a quick answer from the medical examiner, and then I’ll be out of your hair.”
The guard gestured toward the sign-in book and gave Gage the sti
nk eye while Prescott scrawled illegibly over the line. Without asking for directions, the special agent stalked toward the elevator, obviously familiar with the building. “We’ll go in together, and you’re going to keep your mouth shut. I’ll do all the talking. Got it?”
“Yes, sir.”
The elevator pinged; there was a heavy thud, then the doors hesitated for an overlong pause before they squealed open. Prescott put his hand out, letting Gage walk in first. “The phone holds the key?” Prescott asked after the doors shut again. “How are you going to access it?”
“Lily Winters and Zoe Kealoha were friends—”
Prescott let out a low whistle. “No kidding? Huh.”
“I’ve seen Lily unlock her phone before. If she didn’t change her code, I should be able to get us access.”
“There’s more to that story than Zoe and Lily are besties.”
“Not besties. Friends. But yes, I’ll tell you more after I see the phone and can confirm what I think I know.”
The doors slid open and Prescott gestured to the right. They walked down the empty hall to a double door where Prescott punched a button that buzzed an alarm. He took out his FBI badge and held it close to his face as he looked into the camera above the doors. They were beeped through.
“Dr. Tooker, good to see you again. Looks like I woke you up. I’m sorry.” Prescott grinned and held out his arms to give the woman a hug.
It was the sour faced woman with tightly permed hair who had collected the bodies at Zoe’s condo. Gage had seen her from where he’d sat on the guest room bed, out of the way. She squinted her eyes at them and grunted.
Prescott let his arms fall as Dr. Tooker made her way to the light switches and flipped them all on. “We open at eight. How’d you get past the security guard?”
“Charm.” Prescott dipped his head sheepishly. “I know this is unconventional, Mandy, but I’m on a case that’s time sensitive. Someone’s life could well rely on my getting answers fast. I’m depending on your goodwill to help me out.”
