The Dark Side of Angels

by Steve Hadden

  CHAPTER 53

  Reed absorbed Smith’s dead-eyed stare. He’d dealt with the CIA officers before and most were straightforward, cooperative, and aligned with the interests of the Bureau. But Smith’s icy veneer made it clear that getting to the truth, at least the part of the truth he needed, would be difficult.

  “I’ll speak with Special Agent in Charge Reed,” she said, not taking her gaze from Reed.

  Reed looked at Garrity. “Thanks, Joe. I’ll catch you later.”

  Garrity took the hint, as did Connelly, and they left Special Agent in Charge Owen and Reed alone with Smith.

  Smith then turned and looked at Owen.

  “He can hear whatever you have for me,” Reed said.

  A ripple of disgust moved across her face and she scanned the room over her shoulder. Then she faced Reed again. “In private, please.”

  “Follow me,” Owen said. He led them to his corner office and shut the door behind them.

  “I’m sorry, Special Agent Owen. We contain all information of this nature on a need-to-know basis, and if you’d like me to speak more freely, I’ll need to speak to Special Agent Reed alone. He can share the critical information with you and your team when we’re finished.”

  Reed gave Owen a nod.

  “I’ll be just down the hall,” Owen said, and he left.

  “Thank you for coming so quickly,” Reed said. “I assume you’ve been briefed?”

  “I have. Special Agent in Charge Owen was kind enough to get me up to speed. I also received a briefing in advance of this visit. Looks like you have a remarkable treatment at risk here. It could transform human life.”

  “In the wrong hands and attached to the wrong virus, it could destroy it,” Reed said. “And it’s in the wrong hands now.”

  Smith walked and settled on the corner of Owen’s desk. “How can we help you?”

  Reed stepped closer. “We think we are dealing with one of your operatives based on the DNA evidence we uncovered. Interpol referenced a killing in Paris.”

  Smith looked out the window. “I want to be clear.” She turned back to Reed. “The CIA had nothing to do with this.”

  “Who is it?” Reed said.

  “The DNA matched the AFDIL record of a paramilitary operations officer involved with several covert actions for the agency. She was one of our best. She and the team she recruited did the Paris action. She was hailed as a hero. They took out a terrorist responsible for the murder of twenty-two people, including six Americans.”

  Reed could sense he was getting close to the answer he needed. He leaned in closer to Smith and his skin tingled as if covered with static electricity. “Where is this person now?”

  “Assumed dead. Her last mission in Syria near the Iraqi border resulted in her and her team being killed.”

  “But you said assumed dead?”

  “That’s correct. She and her team agreed to go in. Their approach to the target required them to split up. But things went sideways fast. Her team was captured and all but one killed. She fought her way out and made it back, but by then, orders came down to cease the action. Because it was in an area we weren’t supposed to be, it was off book, so to speak. She was ordered to stand down. But instead, she went back for the survivor. She never returned, and six days later a drone attack destroyed the ISIS group that had taken and killed them. Langley buried the incident.”

  “The ERT found her DNA. So she’s alive.”

  Smith deflated a bit with a long drawn-out exhale. “I know. And unfortunately, she was the best I’ve seen.”

  “Name?”

  “Beg your pardon?”

  Reed stepped within a foot of Smith so she could feel the heat from his boiling blood. “What’s her name?”

  “It won’t do you any good.”

  “Why is that?”

  “If she’s gone contract, she won’t use her real name.”

  “Try me. It will give us background and we can tear it apart.”

  “Rosario Cordena.”

  “What can you tell me about her?”

  “Raised in a Texas border town by an abusive father. Great athlete who got the attention of her congressman. Naval Academy graduate who blew out her knee two weeks from completing SEAL Qualification Training. We recruited her from the hospital. Evaluation was off the charts. Mentally and physically. Deadly. But she can be a loose cannon. Doesn’t respond well to authority. Her redacted file will be released immediately.”

  Reed was running out of time. He finally had a name, but the most important piece was still missing. “Who was her superior in the Syrian operation?”

  Smith shifted on the corner of the desk as if sitting on a bed of nails. She locked eyes with Reed. “I was.”

  Reed had hoped that answer might lead to who hired her. He was certain it wasn’t Smith. “Who else would have known her well enough to find her?”

  Smith’s attention appeared to drift as she thought. “Her Paris chief of station.”

  “Name?”

  “His name was Max Wagner. He retired after Paris.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “He’s here in Washington. Bellevue.”

  “Christ, you could have told us that outside. Who’s he working for?”

  “He works for Neville Lewis.”

  “The SZENSOR guy?”

  “Yes. Heads his security team.”

  Reed wanted to choke Smith. But he had to get going. “Anything else you’re not telling me?”

  “The man on the security camera.”

  “Yes?”

  “Remy Stone. The survivor.”

  Reed didn’t try to hide his disgust. “What’s his story?”

  “Decorated Army Ranger. Patriot.”

  “Not anymore. You left him to die.”

  “You’re getting his file, too.”

  Reed eyed Smith, thought better of unloading on her, then wagged his head and turned for the door.

  “One more thing, Agent Reed.”

  Reed stopped but didn’t turn around. “What’s that?”

  “We’ve picked up chatter that MSS is picking something up on the West Coast soon.”

  In that moment, the Chinese connection became a reality. The technology, the treatments and Kayla Covington would be lost—and maybe the greatest cure humankind would ever know would disappear.

  CHAPTER 54

  Reed glanced out a window as he moved quickly down the hallway. The Seattle Field Office was much older than the office in San Diego. It relied exclusively on the artificial fluorescents behind the rectangular translucent panels overhead for lighting. With the dreary clouds engulfing the city and the steady rain assaulting the pedestrians in the street below, the softness of the natural light in the San Diego office was missing. Reed felt strangely uneasy.

  He knew he had to be careful. The information Smith had provided was like nitroglycerin. Shake it up too much and it would explode in his face. Neville Lewis was one of the most well-loved and politically connected billionaires in the country. His philanthropy was legendary. He’d dedicated most of his fortune to help those most in need. Reed found it impossible to believe Lewis’s involvement. To associate him with a domestic terrorist attack without indisputable evidence was suicide.

  He spotted Owen in ASAC Garrity’s office and stepped inside.

  “Okay, gentlemen, here’s what I have. Four names. The name of the suspect tied to the Paris killing is Rosario Cordena.” He pulled out his phone and looked at his e-mail. “I just received her file from Smith. I’m forwarding it to both of you. Bottom line is the CIA thought she was dead. She’s ex-military and the best paramilitary officer they had, according to Smith.”

  Garrity pulled out his phone. “Got it.”

  Reed forwarded the next email to Owen and Garrity and said, “Here’s her accomplice. Remy Stone. I’d suggest we get a BOLO and an NCIC bulletin out immediately.”

  “We’ll get this to our Behavior Analysis Unit and start working it,” Owen s
aid, eyeing his smartphone.

  “Good.” Reed needed all the help they could get. The Behavior Analysis Unit might be able to provide more insight into Cordena’s profile that he could use to anticipate her next moves.

  “Smith say how they may be connected?” Owen asked.

  Reed summarized his discussion with Smith regarding the pair, then said, “These next two names we need to handle carefully.”

  Owen and Garrity gave each other a bewildered look and leaned in toward Reed.

  “Neville Lewis and Max Wagner,” Reed said.

  “Holy shit. Neville Lewis?” Garrity rubbed the top of his head.

  “How is he implicated?” Owen said.

  “Max Wagner was Cordena’s superior on the Paris operation. He now works as head of security for Lewis.”

  “That’s not enough,” Owen said.

  “I know, but one of Lewis’s efforts is the Human Preservation Project. They’ve been on the other side of the gene-editing argument for years. He’s been in the middle of this media frenzy against Covington’s work along with the director of the HPP.”

  “But you’re talking about the biggest philanthropist in the country,” Owen said.

  Owen was doing the same calculation Reed had done. One misstep here and they were both gone. “I think we need to get surveillance on Lewis, his home and office right away. Same with Wagner. Look for any sign of Emily Covington.”

  Garrity looked to Owen, who said, “Do it.” Then he turned back to Reed. “What else?”

  “A briefing on Lewis’s background. Business, family, his foundation and HPP.” Reed paused to gather force for the next requests. “I want to bring in Wagner and Lewis for questioning.”

  Owen’s face went slack and he opened his mouth, hesitating for a second before speaking. “You sure you’re ready for that?”

  “Lewis is against what Covington was doing. Publicly. His head of security is tied to the key suspect in the bombing in La Jolla. You know that’s enough.”

  Owen looked off into the distance. “Okay. I’ll go along with you. An interview. At his residence. Not an interrogation in here.”

  “I also want to have search warrants ready for Lewis’s office and residence. In case we get enough in the interview.”

  Owen shook his head. “You get enough to suspect him of kidnapping, murder or a terrorist act, you’ll get it. Anything else?”

  “Any word on Dr. Covington?”

  “Nothing,” Garrity said.

  Reed looked at his watch. “She’s getting to the point to where the NIH says they can’t re-create the treatment in time. We’ve gotta find her.”

  “What happens if she doesn’t get it?” Owen asked.

  Reed eyed Owen. “We lose.”

  CHAPTER 55

  Neville felt as if he were on the edge of the world, about to fall into an endless abyss. The steady rain and blanket of dark cloud mirrored his mood. Usually, he loved the rain and the lush green life it gave the forest. But as he entered from the garage and spotted Penelope’s Merrythought bear abandoned in the mudroom, a terrible empty sadness welled up inside him. He gently picked up the soft bear and headed down the hallway to his office in the back of the house. Without Darrin, Penelope and Charlotte, the house felt hollow and expansive. They were the precious things that filled his life. Now he might be throwing it all away.

  He set the bear on the edge of his desk, dropped into his chair and noted the time. It was just after 2 p.m. and Charlotte should be at her parents’ home in Vancouver by now. He pulled out his phone and selected her number. It went directly to her voice mail. He tried again with the same result. Her phone was turned off or she was on another call and ignoring his. Either way it was atypical behavior. She always answered his calls when the kids were with her. He reached across the desk, clutched the bear, and looked across the lake toward Mount Baker. Something wasn’t quite right. Breathing suddenly became a little more difficult, as if he didn’t have enough room inside his chest.

  While he still gazed at Baker, his phone rang. It was Ezekiel Cain. He’d asked the director of the HPP to give him twice-daily updates.

  “Go ahead,” he answered.

  “That article from the Union-Tribune reporter has really shifted sentiment. Our people are reporting that counter-protesters now outnumber protesters by three to one.”

  “The article had that much effect?”

  “Not just the article. The president just had a news conference with the head of the CDC and the NIH at her side. They explained the treatment’s objectives in detail and touted it as the greatest revolution in medicine that the world has ever seen. The head of the CDC said that even though it used viral vectors, there was no risk of community spread like some of the infectious viruses we’ve seen in the past. NIH fully supported her work. Said the testing to date showed no safety issues in its current form. The president had the director of the FBI there, too. He said he couldn’t share details but the manhunt and investigation were moving quickly.”

  The report couldn’t have been worse for the HPP. The wrongness of a stinging failure condemned Neville’s soul and convicted his entire being, as it used to when he’d let his mother down. He slammed his fist into the desk as he discharged the anger trying to consume him. “We need to regain control of this narrative.”

  “We’re reinforcing our message on every outlet we can get to. We’ve filled social media with our messaging, but we’re still slipping. The message that this is the answer to all the diseases of aging did it.”

  “Stay on it.” Neville ended the call.

  They couldn’t see it. It was the beginning of the end of the human race as they knew it. He eyed the teddy bear and worried about the world he’d leave his children. He prayed that the contingency plan would work. While the island was the least populated of the San Juans that had ferry service, many of the two hundred people who lived there would be infected in forty-eight hours. That fact alone would scare the country back to the HPP’s point of view and make the president a liar.

  Neville’s phone vibrated and he glanced at it. He buzzed Wagner in.

  As Wagner entered the office, Neville asked, “Did you get it done?”

  “Loaded the dead drop after I left earlier,” Wagner said, walking up to Neville’s desk. “It’s underway.”

  “How are you notifying the authorities?”

  “Same way. Dead drop and an anonymous tip.”

  “Push everything up. Anything on Covington or your mercenary?”

  “Don’t use that word. She’s my agent.”

  Neville viewed her as a mercenary, but he needed to have Wagner fully on board, so he played along with his CIA vernacular. “All right. Agent.”

  “I have a lead on her. It may cost another million to get to her. Then I think I can talk her into getting her number down. I’ll be able to get her back on board.”

  “I’m risking billions here. Do it. A million won’t matter. But your agent’s number is ridiculous. I can’t raise that kind of money without alerting Charlotte.”

  “All right. I’ll have something soon.”

  “Where is Covington?”

  “I have a few others searching. Word is she’s headed back up here.”

  Neville’s primal fight-or-flight response ticked up. “Up here? Why?” If Covington was heading in his direction, she was increasing his risk.

  Wagner shook his head. “I don’t know. But she’s traveling with the reporter and an ex-boyfriend named Harrison Clarke. He’s retired USMC and a PhD molecular biologist. You can bet if they’re headed up here, it’s for a very well-thought-out reason.”

  “Do you—” Neville’s phone buzzed again. This time it was the gate. He checked the security camera app. Three men were in a black sedan waiting. He could see the two men in the front seat through the windshield. Then he recognized one and pulled back from the phone. He tried to swallow, but couldn’t.

  “What? Who is it?” Wagner asked.

  “The he
ad of the Seattle office of the FBI is here.” Neville stopped and drew in a deep breath to stabilize his blood pressure. “Can we ignore them?”

  Wagner pulled up the security cameras on his phone. “No. If this is the FBI, they’re probably watching the house and know we’re here. Hiding adds to their suspicions.”

  “How should I handle this?”

  “Look. If they had something, they wouldn’t be patiently waiting for you to let them in. Let’s just see what they want and then get them on their way.” He shoved his phone into his jacket. “You ready?”

  Neville knew he could handle the FBI’s questions. In its development, Neville had been the chief guinea pig for SZENSOR. His team repeatedly interrogated him as he told lie after lie trying to fool the software. Once they refined the technology, Neville couldn’t defeat SZENSOR consistently, but he got very good at separating his reaction from the lies, controlling his outward signaling. But this would be the biggest test of his skills. His life depended on it.

  Neville swallowed hard. “I’m ready,” he said and headed toward the front door.

  CHAPTER 56

  The heavy rain blurred the windshield as Kayla felt the car hydroplane and she slowed down. While the storm provided cover, it stole precious minutes of what was left of her life. The handle on the vise rotated another turn. In less than sixty hours, she’d enter the time frame where the rhesus monkeys that didn’t get the second injection in the primate trials began to lose memory. Death quickly followed.

  Despite that, she felt great. Her reflexes were catlike and her mental acuity sharp. She decided she could handle the speed and turned the wipers on high and pressed the gas. They’d just passed Medford and were leaving the farmland of the Rogue River Valley, beginning their climb back into the Cascades. It was just after two, but the heavy clouds had extinguished the daylight.