Flash Point

by Colby Marshall

  Her head bolted back up. ‘When can I see him? Can he have visitors?’

  At this, Saleda turned to face them. ‘Jenna, I know your first instinct is to run to the hospital to be at his side, but trust me when I say that whatever setup he risked his life to warn us about is the same setup still in play at this very moment.’ She gestured to the letter she’d been reading on her tablet. ‘Whoever this mastermind Ishmael is, whether he’s an invalid or not, he’s clearly started something here, and he’s not done. Something about this whole thing isn’t right, and we have to figure out how to get to him and the others who got away before anything else happens, be it to Flint and his family or anyone else. At this point, I doubt there’s anything the people pulling the puppet strings behind Black Shadow aren’t capable of.’

  Jenna forced the fears bombarding her about Yancy away as hard as she could. Saleda was right. They’d done this to him. They had to be stopped. She looked to Dodd. ‘Dodd, can you find a quiet place for Grey to sit with the letter?’ She turned to her ex-patient. ‘See if you can find any hidden meanings in there, particularly to do with literature, huh, Grey?’

  Grey nodded and followed Dodd to a room off to the side with a small desk. He closed her in then rejoined them.

  ‘Keep an eye on her,’ Jenna said, then faced Saleda again. ‘So, which ones got away?’

  ‘Well, Ishmael would’ve never been there, of course. He always hangs back because of his disability. The one the sniper popped – the one who looked liked he was wearing a suicide vest and seemed to be fiddling with what could’ve been a detonator? We couldn’t question him for, um, obvious reasons … but after running his prints, turns out that not only was Fai Xiong active on the original Black Shadow forum, but he also used to be an intern in the computer lab of the community college where Irv traced that e-mail McKenzie McClendon received.’

  The light khaki of something not quite right flashed in, that a computer intern would send something like that from his own lab, but she ignored it when she remembered his name. ‘Fai Xiong?’ Jenna repeated. ‘Chinese?’

  ‘Yep. We’re guessing he must’ve been Richelieu. Then Marius – I mean JP Haynie … I mean James Asner … or whoever the heck he was, is dead,’ Saleda said. ‘So, we’re missing two. One is Ashlee Haynie. The other we’re trying to figure out by process of elimination.’

  At the mention of Richelieu, the light khaki flashed in again, but Jenna pushed it away.

  ‘You have them isolated, questioning them separately?’ Jenna asked, already knowing that would be the case.

  ‘Until General Grumpy Griz crashed our party and tried to horn in on our jurisdiction anyway,’ Dodd said.

  ‘So far, we’ve pegged the obvious ones we have in custody: Scout, Slender— I mean Hester, Watson and Holmes,’ Dodd said.

  ‘Mr Darcy is the creepy thin dude with the daggers, and Atticus is clearly the line leader with the machete,’ Saleda added.

  ‘So only two males we can’t confirm?’

  ‘We’re assuming the one missing the hand is Tremain, but even so, both have lawyered up and aren’t talking.’

  ‘What about the others? Ready to talk?’ Jenna asked.

  ‘Attitudes are across the board. No lawyers so far. Some defiant, some stoic. Some, like Mr Darcy, remind me a little too much of Isaac Keaton if he happened to be playing Jack the Ripper on Halloween,’ Dodd said.

  ‘That sounds like my worst nightmare,’ Jenna said, actually unsure what she was imagining, but knowing she didn’t want to be anywhere near it.

  ‘Different as the reactions may be, the story’s always the same about why they were at the mall today. Every single one says because their leader told them to be there. Then they say they don’t know anything else, that they aren’t the boss and only do what they’re told. Then, as soon as you ask about any of the others, especially Atticus, they clam up,’ Saleda said.

  The door to the little side office creaked open and Grey poked her head out. ‘Um, are you guys busy?’

  ‘Yeah, we’re in the middle of something, Grey. Keep working on the letter, OK?’ Jenna said.

  Grey lingered in the doorway, her eyes shooting from one person to the next, like a shelter animal trying to determine which human would be most likely to spring her from the joint if she looked up at them with sweet, innocent eyes. She stopped on Jenna. ‘Right. I can do that. I just think there’s … the letter writer might be a person who is also involved in the group, and …’

  ‘The letter writer is most definitely involved in the group,’ Saleda said. ‘Spot on. Good work, Grey. See if you can find us any clues on where Ishmael might be.’

  Grey nodded. ‘I can keep looking. I was wanting to kind of verify that you knew that the letter writer is writing for the group member who is not in the group but is taken away from the group—’

  ‘Yes,’ Jenna said. ‘Ishmael is writing about taking Flint. Flint used to be Black Shadow, and now they’ve kidnapped him and his family. We need anything in the letter that might help us find them or Ishmael. Keep looking, OK?’

  Grey nodded, then shut the door. Through the glass, Jenna watched her sit down and begin to pour over the letter again. Maybe she’d get lucky. They could only hope. Until then, Jenna’s best shot was one of the other killers. But which?

  Her mind jumped to the images of Scout on the video, her dry heaving in the bank. But no, she was street smart. That was her profile. Street smarts made her less likely to rat anyone out. Who else …

  The clumsy Slender UNSUB from the video came to mind, the one who needed to be rescued by the bigger male with the WASP knife. ‘What about Hester? How has she acted?’

  Saleda smirked. ‘Devastated. Ashamed. Afraid.’

  Jenna nodded. ‘Perfect.’

  Forty

  After skimming the folder Irv had been able to put together on what they knew about Slender UNSUB, aka Hester, aka Elise Kapra, Jenna turned the knob to the room where the thirty-three-year-old woman was being held for questioning. The others said she’d cried a little, seemed one of the most upset. But still, Jenna wouldn’t know best how to tackle the interview until she had a better feel for the woman. Was she upset because she got caught or had real remorse? Her fighting style made her seem weak and clumsy, and yet, she was obviously strong – and ruthless – enough to join a band of terrorists slaughtering innocent people in droves. Until Jenna talked to Hester herself, the woman’s folder couldn’t tell her much at all.

  Jenna stepped through the door and laid eyes on Hester, her long, thin face pale and gaunt, eyes wet with recent tears. Her bony fingers trembled, folded neatly in her lap.

  ‘I’m Dr Jenna Ramey, Special Agent with the FBI, Ms Kapra. Or do you prefer Elise? Or Hester, maybe?’

  The woman’s trembling hand opened, her palms face up on the table side by side, cuffed together. ‘Whichever you wish,’ she said softly. Then, even quieter, ‘Hester is fine.’

  Jenna set the folder on the table, her cup of tap water. ‘Can I get you any water or coffee, Hester?’

  The woman only shook her head.

  Jenna opened the folder, pretending to be looking something over, but in reality, she wanted to give Hester a chance to realize this would be an informal talk, not the third degree. If she did, maybe she’d open up. Be willing to confide in her.

  ‘I’ll cut to the chase. It’ll save us time and trouble. I’m sure you’re aware that most of your friends at the mall were captured and detained, also, right, Hester? All but two.’

  Hester gave another nod. ‘Yes. I did know that.’

  ‘The two still out there have plans to hurt more people, Hester. Even more than all of you already have.’

  Hester’s bottom lip trembled.

  ‘We need to find them before that happens, Hester. Before this gets any worse for them … for you.’ Jenna leaned forward, clasped her hands on the table. ‘I don’t know you, Hester. Maybe you want dozens or even hundreds more people to die. But I don’t think you do.�
�

  Hester sniffled, let out an audible sob. ‘Why not? I’m a monster, aren’t I? That’s why I’m here!’ Sharp pain touched the edges of Hester’s voice, a person who’d crossed lines she’d thought she could handle.

  Ash gray flashed in, Hester’s guilty conscience calling it forward.

  ‘Because you didn’t join Black Shadow to hurt people.’ Jenna had skimmed the notes about Hester’s education, her employment history. The only court record that came up in conjunction with her name happened to be a lawsuit. The file didn’t tell the whole story, but Jenna could fill in the gaps. ‘You see, I’ve been reading up on you this afternoon, Hester, and I just can’t see that being why you did what you did.’

  Jenna took a long pause, sipped her water. She opened the folder, sifted through the pages, and read. ‘After you got your Master’s in education, you took a job teaching seventh grade at a private school in Boston. You lived in the suburbs with your then-husband Joel, correct?’

  Hester nodded again. Sniffled.

  ‘It looks like your life was somewhat vanilla until I get to these pages showing where you were abruptly terminated from your teaching position and the subsequent wrongful termination suit you filed. Your husband also filed for divorce right around that time.’

  ‘Yes,’ she whispered.

  ‘Now, I know this is a painful memory, Hester, but am I correct in understanding from this paperwork that you were terminated from your post because you had an abortion?’

  Tears welled in Hester’s eyes, dripped down her waxy cheeks and chin. ‘Yes.’

  Don’t prod. Wait.

  When Hester spoke again, her voice was riddled with hurt. ‘When Joel and I found out we were expecting, we couldn’t have been happier. It was a dream come true for us. But …’

  Hester sniffed, her body racked with a dry sob. Jenna waited quietly.

  ‘A few weeks later at an ultrasound, the doctors discovered my sweet baby girl …’ Hester nearly choked on the words. She took a gasping, rattling breath. ‘She had so many things against her. A chromosomal defect, a few other things. But the worst … the absolute worst,’ Hester said, stopped. She blew out a slow breath, regaining composure. ‘Only one chamber of her heart was formed. The doctors … they said there was no chance of survival.’

  Jenna bowed her head, Ayana’s bright eyes blazing in her mind. Her gentle giggle almost echoing in her ears. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  Hester bit back another sob. ‘Joel left that night. He said the decision was impossible. That he couldn’t face it,’ Hester said. She half-laughed, shook her head. ‘Funny how one person’s impossible can be another person’s sentence, huh?’

  Compassionate Catalina blue flashed in. It was all starting to make sense. Facing that terrifying, gut-wrenching nine-month march to saying goodbye to her baby only moments after birth – and alone – Hester had opted to terminate the pregnancy. The private school got wind of it and fired her on grounds that having the procedure displayed morals not in line with the school’s religious principles.

  ‘And then, despite your exemplary record, the school let you go,’ Jenna said.

  Now, Hester was sobbing, and she looked Jenna right in the eye. ‘Did they think I enjoyed it? Did they think I didn’t feel anything? I didn’t make the decision for me! I made it for her!’ Tears ran down Hester’s face and neck, her nose running. ‘If by some miracle she had survived minutes or hours or days, none of them would have been pleasant. She’d have had absolutely no quality of life to speak of! I did it for her!’

  ‘And that’s why I don’t think you want anyone else to die, Hester. I don’t think you killed anyone because you wanted anyone to die. I think you did it because you felt like it was the only way you could get anyone to listen. Am I right?’

  Hester propped her elbows on the table, collapsed her head in her hands. ‘I made the most intelligent, compassionate choice I could make for my little girl, and yet they threw me to the curb. But everywhere I look, schools keep teachers with IQs so low they’d barely pass high school, just so long as they don’t have any skeletons in their closets. Conform to societal norms, and as long as you can pass basic tests, feel free to mold the future minds of America.’

  ‘I get it, Hester. I really do. The people allowed to make decisions in so many facets of life probably aren’t nearly qualified,’ Jenna said, playing to Hester’s ego. Her narcissistic streak wasn’t the same broad, thick band woven into some of the others’ psyches, but everyone in Black Shadow was an intellectual elitist. ‘But let’s talk about others for a minute who are supposed to be qualified. Say, to lead Black Shadow.’

  Hester’s face darkened. She said nothing.

  ‘All anyone seems to want to tell us today is that they did what they were told. Came where they were told to come. Is that right?’

  Hester nodded.

  Jenna joined her nod. ‘Yep. That the boss tells them what to do. And yet, the boss isn’t exactly foolproof, either, apparently. Here you all are, arrested. Caught. Your crusade to jumpstart some kind of revolution might have taken a step—’

  ‘Because law enforcement is as predictable as Ishmael always said they would be,’ Hester said.

  ‘—but it’ll take the rest of the steps without you. You’ll be in prison, likely for the rest of your lives. Maybe be executed for what you’ve done. How it goes down for each of you, though, can be different, if you cooperate.’ Jenna stood up, looked around the room. ‘Because even if Ishmael was right, he isn’t here. You’re here. Your friends are here—’

  ‘Those people aren’t my friends,’ Hester whispered.

  Jenna raised her eyebrows. ‘Oh? None of them?’

  Hester cheeks blushed a touch.

  ‘Yeah, most of these people might be cohorts, but at least one other guy being questioned in this building isn’t just some acquaintance. Who is he to you, Hester? The guy with the WASP knife? A friend? Lover?’

  Hester shook her head. ‘It’s complicated.’

  ‘As complicated as mass-murdering, dirty-dozen relationships can be, I’m sure. All I know is he sure seemed to have your back. Saved your ass more than once, if the surveillance videos have anything to say about it,’ Jenna said.

  Hester stared at the table. ‘Just leave him out of it, OK?’

  Protective bluish gray flashed in – the same shade that had flashed in when Jenna had watched WASP UNSUB come to protect Hester on the bank video. Maybe if you won’t talk to help yourself, you’ll talk to help him.

  ‘Leave him out of it? He’s already in it, Hester. Up to his eyeballs, just like you. He might have just as good a reason as yours to be hurt or angry enough to join the cause, but he’s going to hang for it anyway. Probably worse than you will. Men’s prisons are rougher. He’s older. Not to mention juries are harder on men in death penalty cases—’

  ‘Stop! Please!’

  Pay dirt.

  ‘I can’t stop until we find those two Black Shadow members who are still on the loose. Tell me what you know about them, where they might be or what Atticus has planned. What he’s done. He’d give you two and anything he knew about you up in a heartbeat, but if you cooperate and tell us what you know about your fearless leader’s plans for either the two who got away or other attacks, I can get you a deal. I can get one for you and your friend. Or whatever he is.’

  Hester clenched her fists in her lap, staring at them as though deep in thought. Finally, she looked up, met Jenna’s gaze. ‘I don’t know where Ishmael is or what he has planned. I don’t know where these two people you keep talking about are or what they might be doing. But I can tell you one thing that might be useful.’

  ‘Spill it.’

  ‘I want a deal,’ Hester said.

  Jenna sat back down, leaned forward, elbows on the table. ‘I will note that you cooperated fully and do my very best to ensure that it helps your case. But right now, time is of the essence, and what I can or can’t do for you depends not just on what your information happens t
o be. It also matters that it’s given to me soon enough to be able to use it to stop another disaster. So I’m afraid you’ll have to take a chance on me here, Hester. You have no reason to trust me, but I can promise you this is the best and only chance for you and your friend. So, if you have something to say, say it now.’

  Hester’s eyes bored into Jenna’s. ‘Like I said, I don’t know anything about Ishmael or the two who got away.’

  ‘Right,’ Jenna said.

  ‘But you’re making a big mistake in thinking Atticus is calling the shots. Atticus isn’t Black Shadow’s leader. Not at all. He’ll tell you. Ask him yourself.’

  Forty-one

  Jenna stood against the door leading to the interrogation cell they’d at one time thought contained the leader of Black Shadow. Now, she didn’t know what to think. Or what to expect.

  She pressed her back against the wooden door, clutching a file folder of information to her chest – a hastily put-together packet that told her everything they’d been able to gather about Adam Garner – aka Atticus – since he’d been apprehended. Before she’d read through the sheets of paper inside it, she’d been ready to barge through that door, mentally spar with a psychopath so cold-blooded he had led almost a dozen other people to violently slaughter innocents by the handful and would chop off any heads his minions might have the heart to spare. She’d been internally prepping her interview of him based on her previous profile, ways she could play his own ego and arrogance against him to outwit him, coax a slip.

  But now that she’d read the file, her game plan had gone out the window. God, Yancy. I wish I could talk this one through with you. Atticus isn’t at all who I thought he was.

  She stood up and took a breath. Here goes absolutely nothing.

  Jenna opened the door, and the muscular man with the close-cropped brown hair lifted his head from where it had been resting in his hands. His features were as sharp as she’d expected, but his eyes were sunken. Tired. His eyes met hers, his gaze intent. Searching for something.