Across the room, an officer approached Avery and clasped her elbow. “Please come with me,” he said politely.
She stared at him but said nothing. All of this, and she was being perp-walked out of the Chief’s chambers.
He escorted her toward the door, past where another pair of agents negotiated in muffled tones with the president. Avery stopped, paces away from the president, where Agent Lee had joined him.
“A second, please,” she asked quietly.
Agent Lee nodded and signaled for the agents to step back. When only Lee and Stokes could hear her, she asked, “Where’s Dr. Ramji? Dr. Papaleo?”
“I don’t know.” A bitter smile showcased the president’s perfect teeth, and he looked at Agent Lee, who remained within earshot. “A moment alone with Ms. Keene, if you will?”
Agent Lee gave Avery a warning look. At her nod, he shifted away. When they were by themselves, President Stokes said, “You hurt America today, young lady. Destroyed our chance to save lives.”
“You’re a murderer,” Avery said unflinchingly. “I know it, and so will everyone else.”
“I am a patriot. Other presidents have tried and failed because their vision got clouded by rules. They refused to leverage the power of command. I didn’t.” He gave her another grating smile. “But we both know I will not serve a day in prison. Despite your sleuthing and Wynn’s cheap trick with the pill bottle, what you’ve done here today is no more than judiciary theater. You have no proof.”
“Whose idea was it to target DNA?” Avery came closer until less than a step separated them. “Who thought about using biogenetics?”
“If there is any truth to your accusations, I deny any knowledge,” Stokes said. He linked his fingers behind himself, as he did when preparing a speech. Calculating. He hadn’t gone to law school, but Brandon Stokes understood the fine art of setting the stage. Before lawyers and judges got involved, before anyone left this room and headed for microphones or clandestine meetings, he would dictate the narrative for this next stage. Wynn wasn’t the only one who understood chess strategy. Stokes had been checkmated in the first game, but a new one had started. A traditionalist, he appreciated the classics.
Agent Lee appeared again by Avery’s side.
Stokes squared his shoulders but allowed his eyes to show a glimmer of fear. “As for Ms. Keene’s accusations, I had no knowledge of this Tigris Project until very recently. Major Vance created this gruesome endeavor on his own. Based on his years of military service and our close friendship, I thought it was proper to allow him to serve as my liaison, and I trusted him. To advise me on the ways we could defend our country against the constant threat of terrorism.”
“He did this without your knowledge?” Agent Lee asked disbelievingly. “I saw the transfers, sir. You had to have known.”
“Congress should have,” President Stokes countered, glaring at the vultures staring at him in doubt. “But Congress is afraid to ask about DHS funding. Billions of dollars allocated to acronyms they’ll never decipher. As long as we come begging and give them treats to share with their constituents. When I discovered his activity, I tried to force him out, but he used the lives of several innocent Americans as leverage—including Justice Wynn. Knowing that, knowing what he had done and what he was capable of, I didn’t dare expose him. I was in the process of executing a plan to stop him.”
“You were afraid of Vance?”
“No one is impervious to harm. He threatened to tie me to the conspiracy.”
Avery shook her head. “You’re lying. You knew exactly what he was doing. Both of you did this. Hundreds died because of you. And millions more remain at risk because of what the United States funded—a weapon of genocide against Muslims.”
The blood rose in Stokes’s face, and his hard-fought control showed signs of cracking. “I didn’t kill anyone,” he growled. “Vance did. And from what I was told, they were disposable. Terrorists. Prisoners.” He locked eyes with her. “Like drug addicts, Ms. Keene, no one would care if they lived or died.”
The sharp crack of her knuckles against his nose echoed throughout the chamber. Avery stood her ground, ready for reprisal. “I’ll see you in prison.”
* * *
—
Hours later, the FBI brought her back to the Court, her hand wrapped, her evidence in custody, and her statement recorded for posterity. Jared, Ling, and Noah had each taken their turns, separated from one another on Agent Lee’s orders.
Awaiting her fate, she turned on the television. Scott Curlee had become the lead anchor for PoliticsNOW, his unceasing coverage bolstered by tidbits of information no other reporter had managed to capture. Curlee was in the middle of breaking down the GenWorks story. According to his sources, Indira and Nigel would be guests of the federal government for the foreseeable future, and the Indian government was speculating about the nationalization of Advar. The closing bell on Wall Street apparently did not mind the potential, as the stock price of GenWorks soared on rumors of biotechnology that could cure a host of genetic maladies.
Speculation about the weaponization of gene therapy had added a lift, and defense contractors were salivating. Indira looked unfazed in the images of her exiting the Supreme Court, with a suitably somber yet eerily pleased Nigel Cooper gallantly clasping her elbow. Curlee had it on good information that nothing short of a court mandate would stop the merger of GenWorks and Advar now.
Unable to stomach his voice any longer, Avery channel-surfed and found the falsely moderate station, whose anchor reported on whispers that President Stokes’s personal attorney had already begun to negotiate with the attorney general for a deal. The colorful graphics on the screen competed for viewers’ attention: Downfall of President…Genocide in the White House…
Whether the claims stuck, the reporter explained, would be irrelevant. Impeachment hearings would begin in less than a week, and the live telecast would be carried, uninterrupted, on every media feed.
Avery listened as the floating heads on the conservative network debated whether she would lose her license to practice law and be disbarred. An international manhunt had been declared for Major Will Vance, who, sources reported, was the real architect of the debacle. One commentator brazenly offered a tentative defense of the Tigris Project, warning that until all the evidence was out, America should withhold judgment. A slightly appalled counterpart tried to change the subject, musing that it would be decades before Stokes or Vance came to justice.
Avery slumped over her desk in Justice Wynn’s chambers, her head cradled in her arms. When she’d asked about Major Vance, the agent on duty had told her that by the time he’d gotten word to the Secret Service to detain him, the ex-soldier had slipped out of the courtroom and vanished.
Ling had offered to check on Rita at the treatment center, while Jared and Noah trekked over to the Hoover Building to fill in more of the blanks for Agent Lee. In the Justices’ Conference Room, with its blue leather seats and paneled walls, the justices deliberated on her complaint and the fate of their comrade.
The dimly lit office matched Avery’s mood. She’d toppled a president, but her mentor still lay inert to the world.
“You shouldn’t be alone.”
Avery’s head shot up, her throat working toward a scream. One that died when she saw the gun in Major Vance’s grip. “Are you going to kill me?”
Vance contemplated the shadowed eyes, the tousled hair. He set a duffel bag on a small table just inside the office. “You set me up.”
“You murdered innocent people.”
He came inside and gently shut the door. “How long had you known about the bugs in your apartment?”
“Awhile.”
“And who told you about Hygeia?”
“Betty.” She inched her hand along the desk toward the phone. Willing her voice to stay level, she continued, “Before you killed he
r.” Her fingers slid farther along the desk.
“Touch the phone, and I will kill you immediately, Ms. Keene.” He waved the gun at her, rummaged through the bag, and threw a zip tie onto the desk. “Bind your right hand to the chair, please.” When she complied, he crossed to her and secured the other to the desk’s center compartment.
Terrified, tied, yet oddly calm, Avery waited until he moved back to the door. “Why are you here? Everyone thinks you escaped after oral arguments.”
“Unfinished business. And it’s easier to hide in plain sight. Basic rule of warfare and covert operations.” He leaned against a bookcase near the door. “I understand the president is laying the responsibility for this squarely on my shoulders.”
“He says you blackmailed him about Hygeia and ran the project without his knowledge.”
“What do you think?”
“That it was your idea, and he loved it.”
He was silent for a moment. “You and I both know that Stokes had nothing to do with Justice Wynn’s coma. How did you do that?”
“I did nothing. But the president should be careful who he shakes hands with. Especially in public.”
“The graduation?”
Avery shrugged, but Vance gave an appreciative nod. “Crafty bastard. He had something on his hand to transfer the prints to the bottle. Unexpected. And impressive. But Stokes will find a way to wriggle out of it.”
“By claiming Justice Wynn set him up?”
“He’ll try.”
“He’ll fail. Justice Wynn is a brilliant man—and you and President Stokes underestimated him.”
“Which is why I owe you an apology.”
“For kidnapping my mother?”
“For that too, then.” He inclined his head, his gaze thoughtful. “You protected Wynn.”
“Of course.”
“I initially assumed that he picked you because you were sleeping with him.”
“I wouldn’t do that.”
“I know. You’re loyal, Ms. Keene. A rare trait.” He listened for noises beyond the door. “Stokes likes to fashion himself a patriot.”
“He’s not.” Feeling brave, Avery added, “And neither are you. You’re monsters.”
“It was a noble joint operation.” The sigh was almost too low to reach her ears. “Human life is a casualty of war, Ms. Keene. And make no mistake, we are at war.”
“Not with prisoners from India or a nurse for an old man,” she argued before she could stop herself. “Don’t delude yourself, Major Vance. Killing Nurse Lewis and Dr. Papaleo and diverting taxpayer dollars to a proxy to prepare for genocide are not acts of war. They are acts of cowardice.”
“Tigris is a weapon, and we have enemies who will not hesitate to use it. They must be destroyed.”
“You can’t believe that. What happened to you?”
“Don’t be naïve,” he snapped. “I did what patriots do. I served my country. And when it was necessary, I protected her against all enemies, foreign and domestic.”
“None of those people you killed were your enemies. Besides, it doesn’t matter why you did it. It’s over now.”
He slipped his free hand into his pocket. “Surely you’re not that innocent, Avery. Technology like Tigris has more than one source. More than one progenitor. And we would not have trusted a sole source contractor.”
“I know there are others.” She thought about the portfolio of companies. “Who else? I already know about Qian Ku.”
“I assume Dr. Ramji told you about the others when he gave you his research.”
“No, he didn’t.” She thought of Ani’s confession and his refusal to turn himself in to the authorities. “Dr. Ramji tried to stop you.”
“Perhaps. You should know that Dr. Ramji consulted with colleagues who also received funding.” Vance moved toward the desk. “His virus is one approach. One of many if genes are your target. His innovation was the use of viral vectors. Pathogens are another track we were eager to explore.” He did not blink or shift his eyes from her, the message clear. “You have no idea what we’re facing as a nation. I do.”
“Are you saying there are other scientists doing similar work?”
“I am suggesting that scientific curiosity may get the better of humanity yet again. As it always has. Oppenheimer wasn’t a pioneer. He was just another scientist afraid to stop thinking.” He considered her for a long, silent moment. Took in the steady green eyes trying admirably to hide their terror. The wide, mobile mouth that trembled despite the effort to hold still. “However, as for your accusations in court, you are correct. I broke domestic laws. That’s unforgivable.”
“Will you turn yourself in?”
“Not yet.” He dropped a thumb drive onto the desk. “But I dislike being betrayed. I will help you hold Stokes accountable for at least one of his deeds. I recorded then–vice president Stokes injecting President Cadres with an air embolism….It was the moment he seized power.”
Aghast, Avery took a minute to speak. “He murdered President Cadres?”
Vance maintained eye contact, nodding.
“And you recorded him?”
“I worked for Homeland Security, Avery. We watch everything. Usually, though, no one watches us.” He moved suddenly and placed a hand on the back of her chair, caging her. But the muzzle of the gun never wavered. “Dr. Papaleo’s remains are in a construction site near the airport. You won’t find much of her. Her husband’s body is in the trunk of his car at an abandoned lot on Wisconsin.”
She simply stared at him.
Vance placed the gun on the far corner of the desk and reached into his bag. He uncapped a small bottle and poured several clear drops of liquid onto a gauze pad.
“What are you doing?” Avery asked, straining at the zip ties on her wrists.
“I’d prefer not to hit you again. But I can’t be careless.”
“I won’t scream.”
“You won’t be able to.” With blinding speed he moved behind Avery and cupped her head. The gauze came down forcefully over her nose and mouth.
“I’ll be sure someone looks for you by morning. Goodbye, Ms. Keene.”
FIFTY-THREE
“Avery, wake up.”
The insistent tone penetrated the fog of her brain. “Major Vance?”
“Avery, look at me.”
With effort, Avery blinked away the haze and found herself staring at the Chief. “Ma’am?”
“What happened to you?” The petite woman squatted next to her. “I came to your office looking for you, and your door was closed. I’d thought you’d gone, but the light was still on.”
“Major Vance,” Avery repeated groggily, and her hand automatically closed over the thumb drive. “He was here.”
“In this office?” The Chief popped up and reached for the phone. “How long ago?”
Rubbing at her pounding temples, she replied, “What time is it?”
“A little after six. Conference ran rather long. What did Vance do to you?”
Avery’s head began to clear. “He put something over my face, and I blacked out.”
“Are you feeling okay? Should I call for a paramedic?”
“I’m fine,” she said, shaking her head.
Frowning, the Chief hesitated, then relented. “Come with me—I’ll make you comfortable in my office. There are people waiting to see you.”
She hooked Avery’s elbow and guided the shaky younger woman to her feet. “Good news, by the way. We granted your motion to void the letter of resignation.”
“Really?”
“Yes.” She checked the corridor. “There’s another one, isn’t there?”
“A real one, yes.” Avery stopped. “How did you know?”
“I’ve read Howard’s opinions too. I assume he has a real, authentic one hidden s
omewhere?”
“I have it, and I’ll use it when the time is right.”
“When will that be?”
“If his coma truly is irreversible. Dr. Ramji and Dr. Srinivasan hinted that we may be able to wake him, but it’s too soon to know if the research is promising.”
“I’m so glad to hear there’s hope,” the Chief said.
Avery made her way mincingly through the corridors, with the Chief’s hand steadying her at her elbow. Gary Stewart waited inside, along with Jared, Noah, and Ling. Her mother sat on the sofa. Agent Lee stood in the corner he’d occupied at their first meeting.
“Momma? What are you doing here?” She shot a worried look at Ling. “She’s supposed to be in treatment.”
“Special dispensation. I’m taking her back in a little while,” Ling explained. Seeing the foggy look in Avery’s eyes, she quickly crossed over to her. “What happened to you?”
“Major Vance paid me a visit,” she grumbled. “Then he knocked me out. Again.”
Seeing Agent Lee, she took out the drive Vance had given her and dropped it into his hand. “He said to tell you there’s evidence of Stokes killing President Cadres on this. More than enough to defeat any plea bargain.”
Lee’s eyes went wide, and he secured the drive in his hand. He guided Avery to one of the upholstered wing chairs and eased her down to sit. “I’ll give it to the attorney general.”
“You told her about the stay?” Gary inquired from the leather sofa. “I’m doing a press release in the morning. By seven a.m. tomorrow, you’ll be one of the youngest attorneys to successfully argue before the Court. Oughta get yourself a good PR agent.”
“For what?” She looked at the lovely appointments in the Chief’s private chambers and realized her time at the Court had reached its end. “I don’t have a job.”
“I doubt that will be a problem,” Noah smirked from beside her mother. “Lawyers are shallow creatures. I’m sure my firm will hire you for celebrity alone. Add the fact that you actually know a little law, and you’ll have the firms beating down your door—”
While Justice Sleeps Page 39
