The Dark Side of Angels

by Steve Hadden

  “If I had to guess, it’s that they’ve gone rogue. Maybe have a better offer.”

  “We need to activate the backup plan. We have the data from Covington’s lab at least?”

  “Yes. But this whole thing just got a whole lot riskier. You sure you still want to do this?”

  Neville pointed to his computer screen. “We have to now.” Neville fought back against his conscience. This was the only way to stop the destruction of the human germline and regain Charlotte’s trust. His backup plan might take more lives, but it would save millions of people. Maybe preserve the germline. He rejected and embraced that part of him at the same time, as if forcing two repelling magnets together. Neville was crossing another line that could cost him everything, but just as his mother had believed at the end of her life, he knew mankind had no business controlling its own evolution. The last time someone tried that, Hitler killed six million innocent people.

  “We still have time. The lab says they’ll have the modified treatment attached to a virus with a steep propagated epi curve in the next twenty-four hours. I’ve got a team waiting to get it to Seybold Island. I’ve set up a dead drop to insulate us from the team. Once I get the message to them, there is no turning back. It will take less than a week to infect most of the island’s population.”

  Neville stood and locked his eyes on Wagner. “I want to be clear. Only Seybold. And as soon as it’s done, we inform the government. They’ll quarantine the island and minimize any casualties and prevent the spread.” Neville’s guilt that was twisting in his gut receded a bit as he reveled in the thought that his warning would save lives. He heard footsteps in the hallway and immediately recognized them as Charlotte’s. She stopped in his doorway and eyed Neville like a hawk eyeing a mouse. While he wasn’t as good at reading expressions as Charlotte, her displeasure filled the office.

  “I was just leaving,” Wagner said. He smiled and nodded as he passed her. “Mrs. Lewis.”

  She stayed silent. With Wagner gone, she stepped into the office and reached into her back pocket. She held her phone and opened an app. Neville knew exactly which one it was. SZENSOR had been designed strictly for the intelligence community, and that segment of business had given them their first three billion in wealth. But the development and release of the other applications using the technology, including dating apps and robotics, had tripled their earnings. It was called the most disruptive force in intelligence since the development of artificial intelligence. After the US Government had paid a premium for the exclusive right to the lie detecting technology, Congress quickly passed a law outlawing any private citizen from owning or using the technology, probably since it would force politicians to be truthful and change the landscape of politics. While Charlotte and Neville had agreed to never use it on each other, Neville always knew that with Charlotte’s skills, it was a one-sided agreement anyway.

  Charlotte raised the phone and targeted Neville. Her stare narrowed and a blackness overwhelmed Neville’s heart when he thought about never seeing Penelope and Darrin again.

  “It’s time for the truth, Neville. Or I’m gone.”

  CHAPTER 50

  Neville returned to his desk chair and calmly sat down. He knew that with SZENSOR, hiding the truth was like trying to hold water in your hands. Charlotte targeted Neville’s face with her phone. This changed everything. His muscles tensed as a primitive rage built inside. He wanted to launch a retaliatory strike, but his love for Charlotte pushed back hard against his primal need to fight. It was if he were held underwater by an insurmountable force while violently clawing to get back to the surface. He couldn’t tell Charlotte the truth. That her philanthropist husband was a murderer. His children would be gone and she’d turn him in for sure. But SZENSOR would detect his lies milliseconds after the words left his mouth. And even though he didn’t have to tell her the truth, the damage would be done. He would be deceiving her and the trust that had been leaking out of his marriage would completely disappear.

  “Did you have anything to do with the attack on Covington’s lab?”

  With SZENSOR running, he could answer no, but that would be seen by the technology as a lie. He could remain silent, which in and of itself was an admission of guilt. Neville decided saying nothing was the least destructive option. His silence painted disappointment on Charlotte’s face.

  “How could you?” she said. Neville saw the tears building in her eyes. “You’ve risked everything. Did you kill all of those people?”

  Neville didn’t answer again.

  Charlotte’s eyes flashed. “You didn’t.”

  “I never wanted to hurt you or the kids.”

  Charlotte’s anger melted a bit. SZENSOR must have shown her that was the truth.

  “You’ve seen what they’ve been working on. It’s our worst nightmare—editing of the human genome. We agreed we’d to do everything to stop it.”

  “I didn’t agree to this. We were working together to help as many people as we could. We’ve saved hundreds of millions of lives with the foundation’s work. Now that’s all a lie.”

  “It’s not a lie.”

  “What if it only changes to somatic cells with no risk to pass it on to their progeny?”

  “You know they could change that in minutes by modifying the vectors and the treatment.”

  “Bullshit. I trusted you. And this is what you do to me and the kids?”

  Charlotte’s face was crimson. Neville worried about how long Charlotte could hold it together. One word to her parents or the authorities would spell the end of Neville’s wealth, his freedom and his time with his children. He tried to ignore the part of him that suggested eliminating the threat. He was surprised by how easily it came to him. Four days ago, he’d never killed anyone. Now he was entertaining killing his wife.

  “Are there others involved?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you have the treatment?”

  “Instructions, yes. Treatment, no.” Neville could see in her face that SZENSOR registered the truth again.

  “Are we in danger?”

  “I don’t think so.” Again, the truth.

  “You don’t think so?”

  Charlotte wagged her head in disgust. “You know, I never expected this after nine years of marriage. I thought we were different than all the others.”

  Neville’s stomach spasmed and his mind sorted through a torrent of replies to regain some control. He was losing his family. “Please. I’ll fix this.”

  Charlotte exploded. “You’re damn right you’ll fix it. And you’ll keep me and the kids out of this. I won’t let you destroy their lives.” She put away her phone and leaned across the desk and shoved her finger in Neville’s face. “I’m taking the kids to Mom and Dad’s in Vancouver. And you’ll give me the release to get them across to Canada.”

  Neville didn’t like the kids leaving, but agreeing might stabilize Charlotte. He also felt an opening to negotiate. “I’ll do that. But you have to give me time. Enough to fix this.”

  Charlotte stood straight, walked halfway to the door, and looked sidelong at him. “I’ll be back this evening once the kids are safe.”

  CHAPTER 51

  Special Agent Reed heard the flaps extend and the engines power up for landing. At that moment, a voltaic current of anticipation pulsed through his body. Covington’s status had shifted from a killer deserving his vengeance to an innocent outmatched victim needing his rescue. That seismic shift had knocked him off center. The sensation took him back to the Helmand River Valley in Afghanistan. He couldn’t bear to lose another person under his protection. And Kayla Covington was in the wind.

  He lifted the window shade and spotted Mount Rainier towering over the small jet. The massive volcano appeared dormant to the naked eye. In the late morning sun, its snow-covered silence conveyed a solid peacefulness, but beneath its rugged surface, an endless source of explosive power churned. He felt a kinship with the mountain.

  Reed slipped his sleeve up
and touched the Indian agate bracelet on his wrist. The naval psychologist had given him the gift of meditation, and that had saved his life. He closed his eyes and absorbed the peacefulness and strength of Rainier and took deep centering breaths. When the jet touched down, he was focused and confident.

  He immediately pulled out his phone and watched the messages roll in. One drew his attention. It was from the ops center with a new article by Sienna Fuller. Reed fumed as he read the article while the jet rolled toward the private jet terminal in Seattle. Fuller had crossed the line. She was clearly with Covington, and the pair had violated every aspect of the confidentiality agreement to keep Covington’s work secret. He didn’t care that Fuller wasn’t covered by the agreement. She’d aided Covington in doing so. In the process, she’d just made his job nearly impossible. The next message showed that the Seattle Field Office had responded quickly, and overnight they’d set up a Joint Terrorism Task Force focused on the case.

  He eyed Connelly, who sat across the aisle glued to his phone. “Fuller just made Dr. Covington the most hunted person in the world,” Reed said.

  Connelly, focused on his phone, wagged his head in disgust. “I knew we couldn’t trust her.”

  “Covington is in deeper shit than she knows. Every foreign operative here in the states along with a cast of anti-GMO radicals will be after her. Some will want her alive, but some will just want her dead.”

  “ERT confirmed Fuller, Covington and Clarke were all at Alta Vista. Caught them on a security camera mounted on a warming hut. Also caught another person. Male. Looks like he was wearing a vest. They’re running facial recognition, but nothing yet.”

  “We need to ID him and the woman, but we need to dig deeper. If these are mercenaries, someone hired them. The question is who? We get that answered, we may get the data and the treatment.”

  The jet stopped and the copilot opened the door. Reed grabbed his bag and coat and headed down the stairs and across the tarmac to the waiting SUV. Seeing sunshine in Seattle in January was as unusual as this case. An agent he didn’t recognize from the Seattle office got out of the passenger seat and opened the back door. Reed got in and Connelly joined him in the backseat.

  “I’m Special Agent Bob Dorman,” the driver said as they started for the gate. “This is Special Agent Brown. We’ll be at the office in fifteen minutes.”

  “Great guys. I’m Reed and this is Connelly.”

  Reed’s phone rang. The caller ID said it was Director Welch again. “Reed.”

  “Did you see the article?” Welch’s tone was pointed.

  “Yes. The reporter leaked everything. We’re almost at the office.”

  “The president is calling every hour. The media is going nuts. He’s getting pressure to hold a press conference to calm the country. The protests are getting violent. We’re going to secure the NIH locations and tell the scientists working at those locations to stay at home. He’s got the international community up in arms for advancing this technology in secret. We gotta get this under control.”

  “I hear you, Bill. We’ll apprehend Covington here soon. But that’s only half the problem. We need to ID the mercs so we can get to the people behind this thing and secure the technology. CIA knows who they are. They’re stonewalling us.”

  “Not anymore. The president ordered them to cooperate. You have a CIA liaison waiting at the Seattle office. SAC Owen has agreed to let you keep the lead on this and will give you whatever you need.”

  “Good. I’ll have a full briefing ready as soon as we get to talk to them. We’re close, Bill.”

  “Close won’t do it. Call me within the hour.”

  The call cut off.

  Reed looked up. They were exiting I-5 and entering downtown. “We almost there?”

  “Seven blocks,” the driver said.

  Reed noticed the other agent on the phone with a disappointed expression on his face. He ended his call and said, “That was the Joint Operations Center. Emily Covington is missing.”

  CHAPTER 52

  Reed launched himself out of the back door of the Suburban and nearly stepped into the path of a King County Metro bus. He hustled around the front of the SUV and joined Connelly and Agent Brown at the entrance to the FBI’s Seattle Field Office. The din of the city rumbled through the concrete canyons of downtown. A cold wind tugged at his coat and he noticed a winter blanket of cloud had snuffed out the sun. Time was not a luxury he had and he wanted to confront the CIA liaison as soon as he could. The point of no return for Kayla Covington would be reached in hours, and the longer the treatment was missing the greater the chance it could leave the country or be used for nefarious purposes.

  After clearing the lobby security, they entered an elevator and arrived at the floor housing the task force.

  As they stepped out of the elevator, Seattle Special Agent in Charge Dan Owen met them and shook Reed’s hand. “Welcome, Mason.”

  Reed knew Owen well. They’d both started in their roles leading their respective field offices in the same month. They’d worked together on several investigations, the last being a smuggling ring using both the Seattle and San Diego ports. Reed had Owen pegged as a no-nonsense leader who’d earned both a bachelor’s degree in criminal justice and an MBA from the University of Chicago. “Dan, this is Special Agent Connelly.”

  Owen shook Connelly’s hand. “I’ve heard a lot of good things about you.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “This way. We’re set up in here.” He spoke as he walked. “I talked to Director Welch and we’re at your disposal. We can get you up to speed quickly.”

  Owen led them into the Joint Operations Center that covered half the floor. The room was filled with rows of tables, each with a large monitor and keyboard. Makeshift signs called out each person’s affiliation and role. Large flat screens containing video, maps and data covered the walls. He noted officers, detectives and agents from Homeland Security, ATF, ICE, CBP, CDC, Washington State Patrol, the Seattle Police Department and the King County Sheriff’s Department, in addition to the analysts and agents from the Seattle Field Office. Reed estimated about fifty people in all, some floating like honeybees from desk to desk. But no CIA. Reed recognized the ASAC leading the operation as he emerged from the center of the room.

  Owen reached out and guided the ASAC into their group. “Mason, this is ASAC Joe Garrity.”

  “Joe. Nice to see you again. Been a long time.”

  “Quantico.”

  Mason smiled and shook Garrity’s hand. “Great times.” Reed looked at Owen. “Director Welch said the CIA sent a liaison. I need to speak with him right away.”

  “Her,” Owen said. “She’s literally a ghost. I never know exactly where she is.”

  Garrity hailed another agent and whispered something to him. He marched from the conference room.

  “We’ll track her down,” Garrity said. “In the meantime, what do you want to know first?”

  “Status on Emily Covington’s abduction.”

  “Happened on a mountain road leading up to her neighborhood outside of North Bend in the foothills. Very rural. Heavily wooded. No cameras, no witnesses. Ten this morning.”

  “What happened to the agents assigned to protect her? I assume they were tailing her.”

  Garrity glanced at Owen. “Their car was disabled. Hit by a high-powered electromagnetic system. Stopped them dead. A quarter mile up the hill Emily’s car was hit by the same thing.”

  “I’ve seen that system tested,” Connelly said. “It has a range of only about fifty yards. Did you recover it?”

  Garrity shook his head. “Gone before our agents knew what happened. ERT found nothing where it was set up in the thick woods and nothing in or around Emily’s car.”

  Reed added more zeros to the mercs’ bankroll. “Definitely well equipped. Those things are illegal, and with that kind of punch they’d have to have one hell of a power source. Anything on who these mercs are or who may have hired them?”


  “The liaison didn’t give us anything when she arrived a half an hour ago. Some bullshit about not exposing operatives that may have nothing to do with this. Says they can’t be current operatives and definitely not doing any CIA business. The Behavioral Analysis Unit says their pattern is consistent with the Paris incident. As far as who is behind this, we’ve analyzed Dr. Covington’s background in detail. Ex is clear. Alibied out. There is one lead and that’s the other person who died in Dr. Covington’s trial that killed her son ten years ago. Someone went to extremes to hide her true identity.”

  “Revenge?”

  Garrity shrugged. “It’s a lead. We’re pulling records now. We’ll have it sorted out within the next few hours.”

  “Any ideas on the whereabouts of Dr. Covington?” Reed asked.

  “No. But we’re working it hard. WSP is conducting stops and screening traffic as best they can. We’re tied into the traffic cams and using new software that gives us a probabilistic match based on occupancy, vehicle type and license plate. We’re getting hits but nothing solid yet. There are a limited number of entry points into the county, and both the sheriff and state patrol are watching those closely. We’ve also run down all of her connections here. Her father, ex and previous associates who might be sympathetic. We’re sitting on all of those locations.”

  “What about Emily’s lab?” Connelly said.

  “Shut down and secured. She sent all her people home for their safety. She had just gone there this morning to check on it.”

  “Did she have anything with her from the lab when she was taken?”

  “We don’t know for sure, but we don’t think so.”

  Over Garrity’s shoulder, Reed spotted the agent accompanied by a woman in a black pantsuit. Her brown hair was in a tight ponytail and her skin was unnaturally white. A tight-lipped scowl made her reluctance clear and, obviously seeking clues about rank, her eyes darted from person to person as she approached. She edged past the agent accompanying her and sidestepped ASAC Garrity. She stopped face-to-face with Reed. She didn’t offer her hand. “Ricky Smith. CIA.”