Blind Eye (30 page)

Waterbury, Connecticut

K
im Brown had never expected that she'd feel like this. The sense of loss was crushing.

During the flight from Montana, she'd relived so many memories from Amelia's childhood. She'd gone over everything that she'd done wrong. She got herself ready to tell Amelia what she wanted to do for her now. How she wanted to make things right.

She was asking Amelia for a second chance…to be the mother she'd never been for her before.

But she'd arrived only to find out she might have lost Amelia again.

Kim wasn't told the danger her daughter was in until she arrived at Bradley Airport. There, she was met by police detectives and Attorney Viera, the lawyer she'd spoken to on the phone.

She wanted to be angry at them for keeping her in the dark, but she couldn't. Not when she realized everything they were doing to try to find Amelia. If only she'd insisted on a fraction of this effort the last time her daughter had gone missing…

They'd made a reservation for her at a Courtyard Hotel at Wallingford, but Kim didn't want to be dropped
off there to wait. She agreed to be taken to the hospital where Amelia was supposed to go…before the ambulance was stolen. She wanted to be someplace where she'd get news of her daughter. Kim was relieved when Attorney Viera stayed with her.

There was a lot that she seemed not to know about what was going on. Viera hinted that the testing and experiments that were done on Amelia might have been responsible for her coming out of her minimally conscious state. She met two neurologists who arrived at Gaylord with a van full of equipment. They knew her daughter, and they were partners of Dr. Sid Conway, the doctor who had been in the ambulance with Amelia.

Viera waited with Kim in a small conference room that was adjacent to a kitchen used by staff. The attorney's tone with her was cool but civil, and he shared with her the content of any calls he received from the police. The latest news was that Amelia and the neurologist were not found in the ambulance that had taken her from the care facility. The ambulance itself was on fire. The police believed Amelia and Dr. Conway had escaped the burning vehicle.

Kim didn't know what to do or what to say. She was even hesitant to ask questions. All she could think of was how heartless she must have sounded when the lawyer first called her. She wanted this man's trust. He'd been in charge of Amelia's life for six years. And he actually seemed to care. She could tell on the phone, and even more so in person, that this attorney was committed to taking care of the young woman who'd been put in his charge.

Kim wanted him to wipe away whatever negative opinion he had of her. She wanted him to believe that she cared for her daughter.

A member of the staff poked her head inside the room and told them that there was fresh coffee in the kitchen if they wanted it. Viera wearily got to his feet to go get a cup.

Kim decided to say what was on her mind.

“I know I didn't make a good impression on you the first time we spoke,” she said quickly. “I'm honest enough to admit I wasn't a model mother for my daughters, especially for Amelia, before she ran away. But things have changed. I am—”

“I don't need any explanations, Ms. Brown,” he interrupted. “I'm the court-appointed conservator. My responsibility is to see that Amelia's care is—”

“Please listen to what I have to say,” she pleaded. “I need to say this…not for you or me, but for Amelia.”

He looked at her for a long moment before sitting back down at the table across from her.

Kim nodded in gratitude. She tried to think through what she was going to say.

“I…you…”

She cleared her throat and closed her eyes for a second, trying to focus on what was important.

“You're right in not wanting to hear my life story. And it would be selfish of me to try to excuse my actions because of how disappointed I was with my life.” Kim looked across the table, holding his gaze. “What's important for you to know is that during this past week, I've received two blows regarding my daughters. I don't remember exactly what I said or how I acted in each case. One thing I do know is that I didn't come across right. I know I sounded indifferent and cold.”

It was easy to get emotional. Just saying these words made her want to cry. She tried to keep her voice steady.

“I've done a lot of thinking this past twenty-four
hours. I've been given a second chance at life with Amelia…possibly even with Marion. I'm not going to make the same mistakes. I'm not the person I was twenty years ago, ten years ago, or even a week ago. I am here to try to help Amelia and not make life more difficult for anyone, especially her. Please understand that I'll do whatever is necessary, whatever her doctors and you think is best to help her recovery. I'll do my best to be a help, not a burden.”

He was silent for a moment, then looked down at a legal pad and a pen sitting on the table. On it she could see the notes he'd taken whenever someone called.

Viera nodded and looked up. “I appreciate your honesty, Ms. Brown, and I'm relieved to know that we're on the same team. One thing you should know is that we have absolutely nothing that confirms your other daughter Marion is alive, other than Amelia's claim.”

“Then I believe it,” Kim said. “Those two girls are connected to each other in ways that are totally unexplainable. And that's been true for all their lives. If Amelia says her sister is alive, Mr. Viera, then you can believe Marion is alive.”

Connecticut

F
ive minutes after they started back toward the ambulance, Sid and Amelia ran smack into a search party.

State police, the local volunteer firefighters, plain citizens. When he first saw them through the woods, his first impulse was to run. Regardless of their badges and their obvious relief at finding them, Sid was not quite ready to trust anyone. But with so many of them out there looking for them, he had to give an inch.

“Where are we?” he asked one of the state police officers in the first group that reached them.

“White's Woods,” the man told him.

“Wait a minute.” Sid thought about it. “In Wickfield? We're up in the northwest part of the state?”

“That's right. Where did you think you were?”

Sid knew exactly where they were. There were dirt roads and trails that snaked all through these woods. Even a wooden boardwalk that ran across acres of marshland.

Two police cars and an ambulance were brought in close to where they were found. Amelia was carefully placed on a gurney and carried to the ambulance, where
her vitals were being checked. Sid didn't go more than two steps away from the open doors of the vehicle.

“What happened to the two men who were in the front of the ambulance?” he asked the same state trooper.

“One didn't make it. The other is in intensive care in Torrington.” The trooper shook his head, letting him know the second one didn't have much of a chance. “We need to get you on the road. There are reports that need to be filed, but we can complete those once your patient is transferred to Gaylord.”

“Will I be charged for what I did to them and to the ambulance?”

“I very much doubt it. We've already established that they were kidnapping you and your patient. You acted in self-defense against killers.”

“What do you mean?” Sid asked. “Do you know who the men were?”

“We haven't positively ID'd them yet. But Waterbury police
have
found the bodies of the real drivers who were dispatched to the care facility.”

“And what about that other ambulance that the police were following by mistake?”

“Whoever's behind all this had somehow arranged for that ambulance to go off to Gaylord at just the right time for what the drivers thought was a pick-up. They were pretty surprised when the cops pulled them over on the highway.”

Sid rubbed his neck.
What were they in the middle of?

“She's ready to go,” the person checking on Amelia announced, stepping down from back of the ambulance.

“Is anyone from Waterbury on their way here?” Sid asked, wanting to eradicate the last seed of doubt. After what they'd been through, he wasn't going to
take any chances, even when it came to trusting people in uniform.

“Two detectives from Waterbury should be here anytime now,” the officer told him. “We're going to meet them at the Conservation Center out on Route 202.”

It was completely dark outside now. The wind was picking up and it was considerably colder.

“I think she's trying to say something,” another officer standing nearby told them.

Sid looked inside and saw Amelia trying to lift her head off the bed. Immediately, he climbed in.

“We hang around here a couple of more hours, and you'll be well enough to drive the ambulance to the hospital yourself.”

The hint of a smile broke on her lips. She looked pale. The EMT personnel's recommendation was to connect her to an IV, but Sid hadn't allowed it. Not yet.

He had to be a hundred percent sure that nothing here was tainted. He knew that wouldn't happen until he saw a familiar face. Even at that, he didn't think his mind would rest until she was safely settled in at Gaylord.

He saw the movement under the blanket and drew her hand out. Her fingers were moving.

“We are getting good at this, aren't we?” Sid asked, placing his hand under hers.
M…A…

“Marion,” he said aloud. He remembered what he'd promised her about calling Mark.

Sid poked his head out of the ambulance and asked if he could use someone's cell phone. One of the officers handed him his.

“Damn it,” Sid said, sitting down. “I had Mark's number in my cell phone. Let me see if I can remember…”

He saw her hand move. She was giving him the number.

“You were still MCS when you gave us his phone number,” he said. “But you remember it.”

She nodded.

It might be days or months, but Sid couldn't wait until she regained the use of her vocal cords. He had hundreds of questions for her, perhaps thousands. She was truly a phenomenon.

If Sid was happy when Mark answered, the man at the other end was absolutely ecstatic to hear his voice. Mark had spoken to different people in Waterbury and he knew that the ambulance carrying Amelia and Sid had been hijacked. Sid assured him that they were both fine and got to the reason he'd called.

“Amelia has been insistent on wanting you to know that Marion is in danger. She's stressing the name of the same facility again and again.”

Mark sounded frustrated. He explained to Sid that they were waiting for search warrants and had yet to identify an area where Marion and her group could have been working.

Before ending the call, Mark had one last suggestion.

“Listen, this might sound stupid, but I don't know what else to do.”

“What?” Sid asked.

“If you could just ask Amelia to get her sister to send me a message…a text message on my cell…something. If she could give me a clue where she is…”

That
was
a long shot, Sid thought. But stranger things had happened. After hanging up, he told Amelia what Mark had requested, word for word.

She simply stared at him, giving no indication whether it could be done or not.

Nuclear Fusion Test Facility

“H
ow much time?”

Marion looked down at the watch. “Five hours and forty-two minutes.”

“Why haven't they called back?” the man asked, pacing back and forth in the hall.

Marion sat with her back against the wall. He'd pulled her up out of the elevator shaft, but sitting next to the open door was as far as she'd been permitted to go.

Nothing was settled. She wasn't any better off here than down in the hole. A dozen steps away lay the decomposing body of Andrew Bonn, a grim reminder that death was looking at her right in the face.

“Why aren't they coming down?” the man muttered aloud.

Marion decided to answer. “Because the danger is real. There's a very real possibility that there are airborne radioactive particles in this area now. Your friends don't want to expose themselves to the hazard.”

“Who told you to talk?” he snapped at her.

Marion shut her mouth and leaned her head against the wall. She wondered if getting killed could possibly
hurt more than all the pain she'd been enduring these past few days. Death didn't scare her. On the other hand, a generation of children born with serious birth defects caused by a nuclear disaster was a tragedy that tore at her insides. The clock was ticking.

“How much time?” he asked again.

“Five hours, twenty-nine minutes,” she said.

He continued to pace. Marion looked around the hall. Precious time was being lost. She didn't want to wait for someone else's decision on this. She feared what that decision might be, anyway.

She wished she had the crowbar now. When he'd dragged her up out of the elevator shaft, he'd kicked it back in and let the doors slide shut. There was no way to get it.

He paced fifteen steps one way. Fifteen steps back. There were times when his back was completely turned.

She looked down at her swollen ankle and wondered if she had enough strength to somehow get away from him. Marion looked up at his back. He was twice her size and easily three times as athletic.

“How much time?” he asked on his way back.

She held the watch up. “Why don't you just take it?”

His obsession with the ticking clock gave her a perverse satisfaction. She'd successfully planted the truth inside his head. He could kill her and walk away, but she didn't think he wanted to be responsible for a nuclear holocaust.

He waved her off and turned his back to her again. Marion looked around. A glass-front emergency fire cabinet like the one by the maintenance closet was bolted to the wall three steps away from her. She eyed the ax. Right above it, she could see the surveillance camera. The light was blinking.

She'd thought everything was being taped to reduce their record keeping. It was a lie. She suspected there
was a live feed on every camera to a security monitor upstairs. The camera was stationary, incapable of panning across the area. She tried to guess what portion of this hall the film captured. It seemed to be directed at Andrew Bonn's feet.

A phone rang down the hallway inside the control room. It was the line that she'd heard him using to talk to his partners at the surface. That line only went to the security office in the building at the top of the elevator shaft. During their first days in the facility, they would get a call whenever the elevator was being sent down. The day of the attack there'd been no calls, though, and no one had thought to question it.

“You don't move,” the man ordered, stepping over the scientist's dead body and striding down the hall.

Looking battered and weak, Marion was no threat in his eyes. As soon as the killer disappeared, she pushed herself to her feet and, ignoring the excruciating pain in her ankle, hobbled over to the cabinet containing the ax.

“What?” she heard the man snap in disbelief.

Marion tried to pry open the glass door, but it wouldn't budge.

“She's
not
crazy. You saw all the ‘radioactive' signs down here! It doesn't take a fucking genius…”

Marion hit the window with her elbow and the glass splintered inward. The man was now yelling into the phone. He obviously hadn't heard her. Carefully pulling the ax from its cradle, she moved over next to the hall leading to the control room.

“I can still take her out. But
first
I should let her shut this stuff down.”

Marion adjusted her grip on the handle of the ax. She looked up at the camera. There was no way she could be in view.

“How can the order be
no?
You went into that lab. Didn't you see all kinds of stuff set up?”

It was obvious that the orders were clear. Whoever was behind this didn't want anything shut down. Marion had always been of the belief that even hard-core criminals had some basic good in them, just waiting for the right moment to blossom up. Circumstances of desperation made people do wrong. Hearing that someone was willing to risk killing or maiming an entire generation of people blew her mind.

“I'm just saying I don't like it,” the man bellowed into the phone. “I know she's not lying.”

There was a pause. It took all her strength to lift the ax over one shoulder.

“Yes. I've got it.” Pause. “Right…whatever. Send the elevator down.” Pause. “I said I've
got
it. Send it down.”

Marion held her breath. She saw the tip of the machine gun come through the door before she saw the rest of the man. She aimed for his head and the ax came down hard. The blow was a glancing one, of metal off bone. Involuntarily, she shut her eyes as she swung.

She opened them just in time to see him go down. The gun clattered to the floor, and she heard him groan as he sprawled out on the tile.

She couldn't hit him again. He moved his arms and legs as if he was trying to crawl, and then lay still. She could hear his labored breathing. At least he wasn't dead.

Marion glanced up at the camera. She was certain the man's body hadn't landed within view of it, but she wasn't sure about the machine gun.

Dropping onto all fours she reached one hand out and quickly pulled the gun along the floor to her. The weapon was heavier than she expected it to be, and as she looked at it, she wondered if she could actually point it at someone and pull the trigger.

“I can't,” she murmured. “I know I can't.”

Picking up the ax in the other hand, she started down the hallway toward the lab, pausing only to throw the gun into a trash room.

She had just one thing now she needed to do…seal the sample containers.

In a minute she was standing at the door of the test lab. She punched in her code, and the lab doors opened. Going in and closing them behind her, she activated the locks and assessed the situation.

Inside the first room of the lab area, two cameras were mounted high on the walls. She managed to smash them both with the ax. Next, she moved to the computer and started bringing up the security parameters for the test lab.

The people who'd been sent down here had detailed knowledge of the facility. They had the codes to get in and out of every room. They knew the layout of the facility better than she did.

The first thing she had to do was change every password and access code.

While waiting for the files to upload, she checked her connection to the New Mexico Power R & D group. There was no live help online.

“Of course not.”

She opened a new e-mail message.

 

I am in the URL adjacent to Test Drift facility at WIPP. Killers on site. Please help. Marion.

 

She addressed it to her department head at the College of Engineering, UC Davis. She had to tell someone that she was still alive.

With her finger on the send button, Marion paused.
She didn't know where the idea came from. But all of the sudden, it made sense.

She opened her cell phone and turned it on. The battery was nearly dead. Pulling up Mark's cell phone number, she sent the e-mail to his number, as well. Wherever he was, he'd get it as a text message.

Marion didn't have time to try to remember anyone else's e-mail. The security screens had come up. She tried resetting the passwords. A dialogue box immediately popped up. She didn't have authorization to make the change.

“No,” she moaned aloud. She had forgotten that she was only a peon in this project.

Her next priority was to start the cementation steps. She turned on the equipment.

She then looked around her in growing panic. They might think she had a machine gun, but that wouldn't stop them forever. Clearly, they were experienced killers who'd faced weapons before.

The walls of the test labs were layered concrete, lead and steel. The doors were lead and steel, as well. But she had no way of locking them out, short of knocking out the power. And if she did that, she wouldn't be able to complete the cementation process.

As lame as it seemed, moving furniture in front of the door appeared to be the only possible way she could think of to slow them down.

Marion knew they were going to get to her eventually. But before that happened, she would secure these test samples…or die trying.