As they began strolling along the street, Alex fumbled with the wrapping on one of the phones. “How’s your memory for phone numbers?” he asked her, looking a little sheepish.
Lindy rolled her eyes. “Let’s just say it’s better than yours.” She recited Hadley’s number, and Alex placed the call. If she leaned in just a little, Lindy had no problem hearing both sides of the conversation.
“Hello?” Hadley sounded groggy, and Lindy remembered that she’d been up most of the night helping guard shades at the state prison.
“It’s me,” Alex said. “I’m calling to officially inform you that the Chicago BPI pod is suspended pending inquiry.”
There was a long pause, and for a moment Lindy thought she’d fallen back to sleep. “Jill?” Alex asked, probably wondering the same.
“I’m here. Hold on.”
A male voice mumbled something in the background, and there were some rustling sounds, probably Hadley getting out of bed and going to another room. Lindy and Alex exchanged a glance. “Faraday?” she mouthed to Alex. He shrugged, but gave a little smile.
Hadley came back on the line. “Boss, what’s going on?” she asked.
“I can’t get into it on the phone,” Alex said. “You should know that I’ve been instructed to report to Washington immediately.”
Hadley could read between the lines. “Okay . . .”
“But if you’re interested, rendezvous point three in two hours,” he said. “No electronics.”
There was another pause, and then Hadley said simply, “I understand.” She hung up the phone.
Lindy waited while Alex had more or less the exact same conversation with Gabriel Ruiz—minus the male voice in the background. Then Alex handed her the cell phone he’d just used, and Lindy obligingly snapped it in half and tossed it into the nearest trash can, asking, “What did that mean, ‘rendezvous three’?”
“That night that Hector kidnapped you, the pod set up several potential rendezvous points, in case we were separated or attacked and couldn’t call for help,” he explained. “The first two are down near Heavenly, but number three is in Orland Park.”
“Do you think they’ll come?” she asked. “It’s not gonna take Harding long to figure out you’re not on your way to DC. She might call them.”
“Well, that depends on how good Chase’s story is,” Alex replied. “And I don’t know if they’ll come. I wouldn’t really blame them if they decided not to.” He sounded calm, but Lindy could tell he was worried. “But it’s the best I can do.”
Chapter 5
Chicago FBI office
Saturday morning
SPECIAL AGENT GIL PALMER still wasn’t sure why he had been chosen as the Bureau’s liaison to the Chicago BPI pod.
In fact, he sometimes lay awake at night reviewing his actions from the months before it happened, trying to figure out where he might have drawn his superiors’ attention, in either a positive or a negative way. There was certainly nothing in his background or case history that said: “I want to help fight vampires.” He was good at his job because he appreciated the value of grinding away at a problem until it was worn down to nothing. Unlike many of his fellow agents, Palmer didn’t even mind doing paperwork at a desk for part of his time. Overall, Palmer thought he was a perfectly average agent who had elevated himself with hard work.
But the world had shifted, and then so had the ground beneath Gil’s feet. If he’d been just a little more self-aware, Palmer might have realized that his dependability and steadiness were exactly why he’d been picked for the liaison position, but he was too busy scrambling for his bearings to consider it.
Besides, it wasn’t like he’d really gotten a chance to settle into the new responsibilities: Hector had started kidnapping teens only a few months after the Chicago BPI pod was formed. Gil found himself immediately besieged by questions and odd scenarios: How could you kill shades in a hostage situation? How would you contain or transport them? What if you had to fight them at night, when they were at their strongest? And, just this morning: how did one put together a strike team to capture a shade alive?
It didn’t help, of course, that he sort of knew the shade in question. Gil Palmer was one of two people in Chicago, outside the BPI pod itself, who knew that the new consultant was a shade. He’d been extremely uneasy when Alex McKenna brought Rosalind Frederick onto the team, and even more uncomfortable when Frederick had gone around and mesmerized all of Gil’s agents to forget that they’d seen her fight.
But he remembered. God, he remembered. When Lindy had fought against that other female shade, Giselle, it had been one of the most terrifying and awesome things he’d ever seen. Not “awesome” as in “that’s so cool.” Awesome as in “wrath of God, fuel of nightmares” kind of stuff. The battle—and it was a battle—had been a maelstrom of flashing blades and flying blood, punctuated by both women taking the occasional gunshot as though it were nothing.
And now he was supposed to go arrest the winner of that fight?
But orders were orders. Gil still held out hope that Lindy would go quietly. She scared the shit out of him, but in his gut, he just couldn’t see her murdering FBI agents.
On the other hand . . . couldn’t she have mesmerized him to think that?
At the Bureau headquarters on Roosevelt Road, Palmer told his strike team about their mission to capture Lindy, which was a difficult conversation in itself. His guys felt betrayed, and he couldn’t really blame them. At the same time, most of them had secretly been dying to apprehend a shade, and they were convinced they were ready. In less than an hour, Palmer’s team had scoped out Lindy’s address and parked their SUVs a block away.
They all took a minute to put on face shields and gloves, and then Palmer sent a large group of agents around to the back of the building, and a few more toward the fire escapes. When everyone was in position, Palmer took a deep breath and approached the front door, with five more agents at his back.
To his shock the door actually swung open as he walked up, framing a different BPI agent. Chase Eddy gave him a broad, slightly confused smile and opened the door wide. “Hey, man,” Eddy said, taking in the strike team behind him. “What’s going on?”
Palmer was thrown. Again. In his radio, he ordered the back door team to stand by, then said, “What are you doing here, Agent Eddy?”
Eddy’s smile faded. “You heard about the prison break in DC?”
Palmer nodded. “And the carjacking with the prisoners. We’re here to pick up Rosalind Frederick.”
Chase’s brow furrowed. “So am I. I mean, Alex called us both into the office, and Lindy left her car there last night. I’m the closest, so he asked if I would stop and pick her up. But she doesn’t seem to be home. The door was unlocked when I got here.” His eyes widened. “You think she was involved?”
Palmer studied him. He didn’t know Eddy well, but the other agent seemed twitchy and upset. Was he nervous because he lied, or just agitated about the shade attacks on the BPI?
“I was ordered to bring her in,” Palmer said simply.
“Well, she’s not here.”
Palmer took out his miniature flashlight and stepped up to Eddy. He knew from his conversations with Tymer that there were no quick tests to find out if someone had been mesmerized with shade saliva, but the pupils were usually a giveaway. Eddy understood this, because he held still as Palmer shone the lights in his eyes.
Pupil reaction was normal. Palmer relaxed just a tiny bit, and Chase stepped so he was sideways in the doorway. “Come on in and take a look around,” he said, still looking unconcerned. “There’s a cat around here somewhere, probably shouldn’t let it outside. If Lindy’s innocent she’ll be pissed.”
* * *
He may not have been the most out-of-the-box thinker in the Bureau, but Gil wasn’t stupid. Fifteen minutes later he found the hatch to the roof and called for Chase Eddy.
“Did you know about this?” he asked, gesturing to the door, which one of
his guys had flipped open.
Eddy looked genuinely surprised. “Nope.”
“She was prepared to run.” Palmer gestured around the room. “But there’s nothing in here to even boost yourself up. No ladder, not even a table.”
Eddy shrugged. “There’s construction up there; maybe she hadn’t gotten around to adding furniture yet. Or maybe she was planning to jump straight up?”
“I don’t know if shades can even do that during daylight.” Palmer squinted up at the opening, thinking it over. “Me, I would keep a ladder in this room and pull it up after me as I ran. Slow down whoever might be following.”
“Did you check the roof for a ladder?”
“My guys are doing that now.” Palmer glanced past Eddy. Now that they’d cleared the brownstone, the other agents had split up to search for information on Lindy’s whereabouts. It was just him and Eddy in this room. “If there’s anything you want to tell me, Agent Eddy, now would be the time.”
“Like what?”
“Like you heard about the raid and decided to come warn Miss Frederick beforehand?”
Eddy didn’t look particularly offended, more . . . curious. “How would I know to do that?”
“I’m not sure.” Palmer gave him a hard look. “But I’ll be requesting your phone records to check.”
“Go ahead. I haven’t been on the cell this morning, and if you check the GPS, you’ll see that I arrived just a couple of minutes before you did.”
“Except for Alex McKenna’s call,” Palmer broke in.
Eddy’s expression flickered. “What?”
“You said Alex McKenna contacted you to pick up Miss Frederick.”
“Oh. Right.”
Palmer was about to ask Eddy to hand over his phone, but just then one of his strike team members, O’Reilly, appeared in the doorway. “We’ve got something, boss,” she said, holding up two large ziplock bags. Each one contained a cell phone.
“Two of them? Are they both Frederick’s?”
O’Reilly shrugged. “They’re password protected. We’ll get the techs looking at them.”
Palmer pulled out his own phone. He’d programmed in the phone numbers for the BPI pod the day he’d taken the liaison position. He hit Frederick’s number, and one of the two phones lit up, vibrating in the bag. “That one’s Frederick,” he said. He called Chase Eddy’s number, just in case, but the other agent’s pocket began to buzz. Eddy reached into his pocket and hit a button to turn it off. Palmer ended the call and tried Alex McKenna’s line.
The cell phone in the other bag lit up. “Interesting,” he said.
“How would Lindy get Alex’s phone?” Eddy asked.
“I don’t know,” Palmer said, eyeing him. “But I intend to find out.”
Chapter 6
Orland Park, Illinois
Saturday morning
ORLAND PARK TURNED OUT to be one of many small commuter villages that surrounded Chicago on all sides. It wasn’t nearly as rich and swanky as the northern coastal suburbs, but it was a pretty average representation. Actually, Lindy thought as they climbed out of the cab, it looked pretty average on all counts: size, facilities, population, and so on. It was inconspicuous, which was what you wanted in a rendezvous point—or a clandestine meeting.
The weather was still overcast, and a cold wind had picked up, which left the park nicely uninhabited for a Sunday. They walked to a small, deserted pavilion with two benches right across from each other and sat down on one, both of them eyeing the surroundings on the off chance they’d been followed. Lindy was wearing her denim jacket, but she wished she’d worn pants, or at least a longer dress. Being a shade didn’t make you immune to the cold—at least not during daylight hours.
Ruiz, who lived in Brookfield, arrived first, wearing beat-up jeans and a Leinenkugel’s beer T-shirt. He grunted a greeting and plopped down on the bench opposite Alex and Lindy. He gave the bundle of brown paper between them a curious look, but seemed comfortable waiting for Hadley.
She appeared a few minutes later, also from the direction of the parking lot. Hadley was wearing the same black slacks and green blouse she’d had on the day before, although now the blouse was untucked. She had pulled up the front sides of her long red hair, leaving the rest of it hanging down to her waist, which helped soften the look. She looked a little flushed and embarrassed as she walked over, but her jaw was set stubbornly, practically daring them to comment. None of them did. She sat down on the edge of Ruiz’s bench. “Hi,” she said. “What the hell’s going on?”
Alex told them everything: the hijacked van, the attack on BPI headquarters in Washington, Chase’s missing time, the arrest warrant for Lindy. It seemed only fair, given the risks they would be taking just by associating with him and Lindy. The only thing he left out was his sleepover at Lindy’s house, but his agents were no dummies. “How did you manage to get to Lindy before Gil’s team?” was Hadley’s first question.
“I was already with her,” Alex said levelly.
“Oh.” A beat, and then Hadley repeated, “Oh.”
Lindy saw Alex cock an eyebrow at her, as if to say, “You really want to go there?” The younger agent pretended to be very interested in watching a passing cyclist. Ruiz glanced quickly back and forth between Alex and Lindy for a moment, then shrugged to himself. He didn’t look comfortable, but he also didn’t comment.
Instead, he asked, “So what’s the plan?”
“The same as it’s always been,” Alex replied. “Catch Hector.” He touched the bundle of papers. “Lindy’s already gotten us a head start.”
It was nice of him to not mention that Lindy had been holding out on all of them.
“But, boss,” Hadley broke in, “you can’t pretend that nothing’s changed. Lindy’s a federal fugitive, we’re suspended, and you’re AWOL, or you will be soon. And God knows what’s gonna happen to Agent Eddy.”
“All of which is exactly what Hector wants,” Lindy reminded her.
“You really think it goes that deep?” Ruiz asked.
Lindy paused, considering the question. “I think Hector’s been moving us around like game pieces, yeah. This team thwarted his plans, and I killed his pet psycho killer. He doesn’t take that lightly. He wanted to break Ambrose out of jail and get Reagan on his side, and he wanted to embarrass and divide us. He used Chase to do all of it in two moves.” She didn’t bother to keep the bitterness out of her voice.
“So what’s he expecting us to do now?” Hadley asked her.
Lindy nodded approvingly. It was the right question. “He’s counting on breaking us up. Alex goes to Washington, I go into hiding, you two . . . I don’t know, get transferred or go on leave. Either way, you’re off the board. And he’s arranged it so the only real alternative for any of us is to go to jail.”
“The only legal alternative,” Ruiz said, his expression very innocent.
Alex gave him and Hadley a hard look. “Let me make this clear. Lindy and I are going after Hector. If you help us, you could lose your jobs, or possibly even go to prison. Or, you know, Hector might kill us all. If, on the other hand, you want to report in, report us”—he pointed to Lindy and himself—“I really will understand. You don’t owe me your whole career.”
Hadley and Ruiz glanced at each other momentarily and then turned back to face Alex. “We’re with you, boss,” Hadley said quietly.
The gruff veteran agent nodded with intense determination. Ruiz had been with the Chicago BPI pod before any of them. He was the last surviving member of the original team, the one Hector killed entirely. “Let’s get this fucker.”
Alex’s shoulders seemed to loosen a little in relief. Hadley asked, “But how do we start?”
Lindy smiled. “By being unpredictable. Hector doesn’t think we’re going to keep hunting him, and if we do, I can promise you he expects us to chase him to DC, divided and without the backing of the BPI.”
“So we stay right here, in Chicago,” Alex added.
Lindy no
dded. “And we try to find out where he might be hiding.”
“What do you need?” Ruiz asked.
“First of all, a place to work,” Alex said. “By now the deputy director’s office has realized I’m not on my way to Washington. They’ll be watching my apartment and Lindy’s brownstone, and I expect they’ll be keeping an eye on your places as well.”
They all fell silent for a minute, thinking it over. “A hotel room?” Lindy asked.
Alex shook his head. “Too many witnesses and video cameras. If the BPI puts us on the news, which seems likely, we’ll be identified quick.”
Lindy felt a rush of panic. Until now the whole day had seemed like kind of a lark, but now it was getting real.
“My cousin Sadie owns rental cabins not too far from here,” Hadley offered. “They’re nothing fancy—each one’s just a big room with a couple of beds and a kitchenette—but they’re pretty private.”
“Would she let you use one?” Alex asked.
Hadley nodded. “I could just tell her my department has been suspended and I need to blow off some steam with a few friends.”
“That’s barely even a lie,” Alex said, nodding. “Okay, you guys head there. Lindy and I need to make a stop first.”
Chapter 7
FBI labs
Saturday afternoon
“YOU CALLED ME IN on a Saturday to get you methamphetamines?”
Alex thought Noelle Liang, the Chicago FBI’s star engineer, looked more perplexed than outraged. They were in her office/lab space, a tennis court–sized room with a massive metal desk tucked into a back corner and rows of tables full of equipment Alex didn’t recognize. Noelle was in charge of the Chicago Bureau’s technology: recording, listening, and tracking devices, and now even smart weapons. If it had multiple working parts or needed to be plugged in, Noelle had either created it or maintained it, or both.
She could be making a fortune in the private sector, but Noelle obviously liked her work, and her brilliance allowed her to keep a fairly Monday–Friday schedule . . . and get away with her own personal dress code. Today she was wearing big clunky motorcycle boots with torn jeans and a black tank top with a picture of a kitten wearing glasses. It was the weekend, but Alex had seen her wear more or less the same outfit on a Wednesday.
Outbreak: A Nightshades Novel Page 3
