Point of Control

by L. J. Sellers

  Crazy! But would it trigger any red flags? It might, if the FBI knew about Dana’s prescription. So he would ask for OxyContin, Versed, and some other type of anti-seizure medicine. That way, the robbery—if the FBI even got wind of it—would look like it had been done by a drug addict desperate for a high. Shawn googled the phrase anti-seizure medicine that produces euphoria and came up with Lyrica. The drug had originally been developed for epilepsy, then had proved effective in treating nerve pain. But it also acted like a benzo, so some people took it for a tranquilizing effect. Good enough.

  Could he pull this off? Shawn laughed out loud. After everything else he’d done lately, he could do anything. And the thought of the robbery actually excited him. Waiting for it to get dark would be the hardest part. He might as well drive up to the mine and see how things were progressing. He climbed into the truck he kept at the property, a silver Tacoma that looked like half the vehicles in the area, and headed north.

  At the mine, he walked to the edge of the massive pit. Seeing the deep layers and busy earth-moving equipment calmed his nerves—and made him feel smart. He’d had the foresight to invest in producing his own rare earth metals. That bold move had caught the attention of venture capitalists, who’d pushed him to think even more boldly. The production facility, with its silos and feeders, was still a mystery to him, but that’s what he paid a manager for. The mine’s real secret, though, lay beneath the bunkhouse. He’d discovered the huge bomb shelter after he bought the property. When Max mentioned funding a research lab, the underground space had seemed ideal. Especially once he’d realized he might have to resort to kidnapping to get the personnel he needed.

  The secret rooms were the perfect bonus to his investment. No one but him and his trusted crew knew they were down there. Maybe a few old-timers in the area might remember the bomb shelter being built before Palisades became a ghost town, but who would ever ask them? Shawn was tempted to visit Dana Thorpe and check on her progress, but he couldn’t access the underground lab and then disappear for a while during the day without attracting suspicion from the manager. Besides, he needed to keep his contact with her to a minimum and mask his face every time if he hoped to let her go eventually. He still clung to the possibility of that outcome, but didn’t spend much time thinking about it.

  But he did need to check in about production. Shawn stopped in the office and found Tom Boxer, his manager, arguing with Milton Thurgood, the extraction specialist whose presence here was supposed to be a secret. They both turned to him.

  “We need a bigger crusher,” Tom said. His otherwise thin body sported a fat belly, making him look pregnant. Shawn had hired him for his résumé, knowing he wouldn’t have to see him much.

  “No, we don’t,” Thurgood argued. “We just need more highly skilled workers than these local half-wits.” Thurgood’s wild gray hair made him look a bit like Einstein. Shawn had researched him extensively and spoken with him on the phone several times before making the job offer. He’d learned that Thurgood wanted out—of his marriage and his university contract. A perfect fit for his plans.

  “We’ll do both.” Shawn moved toward the computer on the desk. “I’ll order the new crusher now.” His investors seemed to have unlimited funding for equipment and believed in spending money to make it. Shawn patted Thurgood’s shoulder on the way. “And you’re right. We’ll increase the wage so we can recruit people from out of state with recent mining experience.”

  “Good.” Thurgood shook off his hand. “I’ve about done everything I can do here.”

  Shawn decided to order the crusher later. He turned and walked with Thurgood toward the back door. “Milton, I need you to stay out of sight as much as possible.”

  “I know the rules, but I’m leaving soon anyway.”

  That surprised Shawn. They had set benchmarks to meet first. “We’ll have to review our agreement.”

  Thurgood scoffed. “Don’t bother. I’ve almost met your terms, and I’ll be out of here in a few days.”

  Shawn didn’t have any leverage to stop him. Except to tell Thurgood’s wife where he was headed. But he had bigger things to focus on. “I’d like you to evaluate the other scientist’s work before you go.”

  “That would take more time and energy than I’m willing to give. G’day.” Thurgood stepped out the back door and headed for the bunkhouse.

  For a brief moment, Shawn imagined himself following him out and shooting him in the back of the head. That would guarantee Thurgood’s silence forever. He shook off the thought. There would be the body to do away with and Tom Boxer to mollify. Besides, Thurgood wasn’t quite finished, and the Australian planned to head for the Cayman Islands when he left, so Shawn wasn’t really worried about anyone ever questioning him.

  He turned around in the narrow hall and stepped into one of the cluttered storage rooms. From a canister, he grabbed the ski mask he kept handy for his visits with Dana Thorpe and stuffed it into his pocket. He’d already chosen the pharmacy, looked at photos of the area on Google Earth, and taken a booster dose of dextro. He was ready.

  CHAPTER 25

  Back in the truck, Shawn checked the glove box. The Colt was there, as usual. He kept it there for safety against bears and rattlesnakes, but now decided he should start keeping it on his body at all times. On the way out of town, he called Jia. “I’m headed to Ellensburg for supplies, so I’ll be home late. Do you need anything?”

  “Yeah, I need to get the hell out of here. Why didn’t you come by and pick me up?”

  “Sorry, I didn’t think you’d want to make the drive after your long trip getting here.”

  She didn’t have a good comeback. After a moment, she said, “Fresh fruit, please. Mangos and cherries, if you can find them.”

  He would pick up a few things at the market in Wanapum on his way, just to cover his tracks. “I’ll look, but don’t count on it. See you later.” He hung up before she could add to her list.

  Even with the stop at the store, the trip to Ellensburg took less time than he’d thought, so he drove around the small city for a while killing time. It had been raining off and on all day, and the streets were sloshy and nearly deserted. Finally, he stopped behind a tire store and took off his license plates. At seven forty-five, he drove past Decker’s Pharmacy on Pine Street, parked a half block away, and pulled on the ski mask. In that moment, the risk became real and his pulse thumped in his neck. So far, he hadn’t seen a single police car, and he hoped that in this Podunk town, the two cops on duty were taking turns napping at the station.

  Shawn charged toward the little drugstore tucked in between an antique shop and a bakery, both of which were closed. A bell jangled when he jerked open the door, surprising him. But no cameras that he could see. He trotted down the narrow aisle to the counter in back. The clerk, an older woman with short gray hair, let out a little scream when she saw him.

  He pulled out the gun, leaving the safety on. “Be quiet, don’t be stupid, and you won’t get hurt.”

  “We don’t keep much cash here.”

  “Just get me some OxyContin and Lyrica. A big stash of both.” He’d forgotten the third drug, but it didn’t matter.

  “The pharmacist left already, and I don’t know where anything is back there.” Her voice trembled with fear.

  “Find it fast!” A rush of intense pleasure flooded his brain. He hadn’t known how much he would enjoy making someone fear him.

  She moved toward a narrow door behind the counter and fumbled with the lock.

  “I said fast!” Despite the thrill, he worried about getting caught.

  The clerk finally got the door open and went straight for the back wall. Shawn stood in the doorway, watching her, then glanced back at the front door. The shop was about to close and he didn’t expect anyone, but still, he had to stay alert.

  Plastic containers covered the back shelf, and the clerk picked up a few befo
re she said, “Got it. This is oxy.” She turned to him with a large white bottle.

  “I need the Lyrica too. Now!”

  Panic rippled across her face. “I don’t know where it is. We don’t get much call for it.”

  “It’s a tranquilizer. Find it!” His pulse raced as if he were running for his life. Was it pure adrenaline or the amphetamine in the dextro?

  She turned to the partition beside her and started grabbing bottles off an upper shelf. “I don’t see it.”

  Shawn rushed into the cramped back room, put the gun into his waistband, and searched with her. A few minutes later, he found it next to the prednisone. He grabbed two bottles, stuffed them into his pockets, then snatched up the OxyContin she’d tried to hand him earlier.

  “Get on the floor and don’t move for twenty minutes!”

  He turned and bolted through the narrow door, past the counter, and down the aisle. No one had come into the drugstore. He sprinted for his truck, jumped in, and gassed the engine. If the old woman stayed down long enough for him to get out of sight, he could pull this off. When he took the freeway entrance a few minutes later, he let out a howl, then burst into laughter. What a rush! He almost wished he’d participated in the kidnappings. After a life spent carefully monitoring his behavior and doing everything expected of him, it was exhilarating to break the rules!

  On the drive home, Max called. Shawn answered, feeling upbeat. “Things are under control,” he reported. “We just grabbed the best cryptographer in the world, the mine has doubled its capacity, and Dana Thorpe is on the verge of finalizing the new compound.”

  “We have another problem.”

  The chill in Max’s voice made his gut tighten. “What is it now?”

  “Rocky’s been identified by the feds.”

  Oh fuck! “How did that happen?”

  “Obviously, he was careless during Dana Thorpe’s abduction. Deal with him.”

  “I’ll make him lie low for a while.”

  The pause unnerved him. Finally, Max said, “If he’s arrested, they’ll offer him a sweet deal, and Rocky will turn on you.”

  “We’re out at the mine now, we’re done picking up resources, and Rocky will be fine.”

  “You don’t understand.” The deadpan tone had shifted to menacing. “I don’t like it either, but Rocky has to be silenced. We’re the majority stakeholders, and we make the decisions. Just do it and don’t look back.”

  Shawn’s gut fluttered, and he closed his eyes for a moment. But he forced himself to focus on driving and thinking. The unspoken threat was that the venture capital company would pull their financing or take over his company. He had to tell his backers what they wanted to hear. “Don’t worry. I’ll handle it. I won’t let anything stop our plans.” He couldn’t ask Harlan to do this. He and Rocky had become friends. But Shawn didn’t know if he could pull it off. “How soon?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  A lump formed in his throat. “I’ll try.”

  “This isn’t something you try. Just get it done and hide the body well.”

  “Yes, sir.” Shawn hung up, deeply troubled. The man who’d fired him early in his career he hated with a passion and could easily kill without guilt. But Rocky, the pilot he’d gotten to know and come to depend on? There had to be another option.

  CHAPTER 26

  Sunday, March 22, 10:00 a.m., Washington, DC

  Bailey had the cab driver drop her off at the Presidential Plaza, where the North Korean had been abducted. She knew better than to stop at her home in Brentwood. She would want to swap out her travel clothes, cook a decent meal, and pick up the Nikola Tesla biography she’d been reading—and there was no time for any of that. The hotel was back to operating as if nothing had happened, and she didn’t spot any agents or patrol cops. She left her suitcase at the check-in desk, showed her badge, and asked where the cryptographer had been abducted.

  “I wasn’t here Friday, but it was at the end of the corridor that dead-ends at the banquet kitchen. By the restroom.” The clerk pointed to a hall leading off the massive lobby filled with paintings of presidents.

  “Thanks. I’ll check it out. While I’m doing that, alert your security department that I want to see the video of the abduction.”

  “You really have to ask them yourself. They’re on the second floor.”

  The bureau probably had a copy of the video, but she hadn’t seen it. Nor did she know if they would include her on the new kidnapping-incident team or share the intel. Especially if her boss suspected she was being noncompliant. Bailey had no intention of letting them think that. She would show up at her unit’s next meeting and see how it played out. Her boss would simply think she’d come back to DC as ordered. Tomorrow could still be a problem. Depending on what she found out about the North Korean’s kidnapping, Bailey expected to head back to the West Coast. She still hadn’t decided what to tell her boss about her absence. Illness? Death in the family? She could always use her father’s arrest as a valid family-crisis excuse.

  At the end of a wide hotel corridor, she entered the men’s restroom. An odd mixed smell of urine and baking cookies hung in the air. She startled an old guy at the sink. He opened his mouth to complain, but she flashed her badge. “FBI. This is an investigation.”

  He finished washing his hands and left. Bailey looked around for a vent or possible escape route and didn’t find any. The food smells unnerved her. It was just wrong for a toilet area. She started for the exit. If the kidnapper had waited in here, he’d come in through the door. The bureau’s forensic technicians had likely combed every inch of the area and picked up any trace evidence, so there was no point in searching. She just needed to see the scene and put herself in the mind of the abductors. The tech guy had probably not been alone. North Korea didn’t send important people out of the country without babysitters who made sure they came back. So where had his bodyguard been? Outside the door?

  Bailey stepped out of the restroom, looked around, and spotted the double doors at the end of the hall. The hotel desk clerk said it led to the banquet kitchen, which explained the cookie aroma. The kidnappers had probably gone out the back, a short, safe route. She hurried into the kitchen area, where a full crew bustled around, and walked straight back to the loading doors. She could question the staff, but the abduction had happened while a different crew was working, and she didn’t have time to waste.

  The kidnapping had not been a US federal job, regardless of what Kim Jong-un said. She’d never worked for the CIA or NSA and could only speculate, but if she were required to kidnap someone as part of her job, she would have chosen a more private venue, perhaps even gassed his hotel room, knocking out both him and the guard. Her government had time and resources. This operation had been done hastily and at great risk. Desperate men at work. But why Lee Nam? And what was the rush?

  The surveillance video was key, but it would save her time and the hassle to view it at the bureau, where she was headed anyway. She would crash the meeting, as if she belonged, silently daring them to exclude her. If that didn’t work, she would use Agent Lennard’s password to access all the files. Long ago, Bailey had snooped and found it when she needed more intel than she’d been given access to. She walked out to the loading dock, inhaling the exhaust fumes of the last truck that had parked there, and made a call. Havi, her analyst buddy, would be able to tell her what time the team was gathering. If they had the bodyguard in custody, she might even be able to meet with him.

  Havi took forever to answer and his voice sounded strained. “Hey, Bailey. Where are you?”

  “I’m here in DC. Briefly.” She didn’t understand his discomfort and didn’t have time to find out. “I need to know when the North Korean incident team is meeting.”

  “I’m not in that loop, but I’m sure it’s happening today.”

  “Lee Nam had a babysitter, correct? Is he in custody?”<
br />
  “Dukko Ki-ha, a military police officer, and no, he’s not in custody.” Havi clanked something in the background, then continued. “Dukko has been questioned, but he refused to come into the bureau. No one wanted to exacerbate the situation with Kim Jong-un by detaining one of his officers.”

  “Do you know where Dukko is?”

  “No. Why don’t you just ask Lennard?” A pause. “I heard you were pulled off the other kidnappings. What’s going on?”

  “I think all the kidnappings are connected, but I’m not sure the AD wants to hear that, so please don’t repeat it.” Impatient, she walked down the service alley, planning to grab her luggage and catch a cab. “Can you find out about the meeting? Or where the North Korean police officer might be?”

  “I’m not in the office, but I’ll see what I can do.”

  Now she understood his irritation. “I’m sorry to bother you at home. Thanks for your help.”

  “No worries.”

  They hung up. Bailey decided to go straight to the bureau. Everything she needed to know was in that building. Her only worry was that her boss would tell her she couldn’t investigate the new kidnapping, then give her some bullshit assignment. In which case, everything she did after that would be insubordination. That didn’t bother her, except for the potential consequence of losing her job. This career held too much power, prestige, and protection for her to ever let it go without a fight.

  As she exited a cab in front of the bureau’s headquarters, Havi called back. “The team is meeting in an hour in the small critical-incident room. Lennard is running it.”