Holdin' On for a Hero (59 page)

“Two hairs,” Ron said. “Caucasian, long, very dark brown, almost black. Natural color, no dye, no bleach.”

“Where?”

“The bedspread.”

Ryan frowned. He knew for a fact that all of the sheets and the bedspread had been vacuumed thoroughly and the contents sent to the lab. Nothing had turned up and he had a hard time believing that the technicians had simply overlooked evidence.

“Is that all,” he asked.

Ron shook his head and picked up a large envelope. “It’s already been checked for prints,” he said as he handed it to Ryan.

As Ryan took the envelope from Ron, he noticed that it had been cut open. “Was it like this when you received it?”

“Nope. Sealed tight.”

“Where did this come from?”

“The hotel manager found it in the safe. Apparently Dr. Weston asked someone who worked there to lock it up for safe keeping.”

“Did the manager say who the employee was Weston talked to?”

“Hey, he didn’t tell me anything,” Ron answered. “I’m strictly a lab rat, remember? I think…wait a minute, I’ve got the form right here. Yeah, Detective Baldwin signed for it.”

Ryan dumped the contents of the envelope onto the table. Inside was a small clothbound book about five inches by seven. He opened it and his eyes widened. There was page after page of strange symbols surrounded by complicated mathematical equations. He couldn’t begin to understand the math and looked at Ron. “Any idea what this is?”

“Beats the hell outta me.”

Ryan put the book down and looked at the rest of the contents of the envelope. There was a plain white business card with the name Carl Strickland on the front. Someone had scribbled a phone number on the back.

“Take this down.” He handed Paige the card and picked up the last item. It appeared to be a fax that was several weeks old that read,
Have reviewed all available data, and concluded that completion of final phase is impossible at this time without Laserian data. Delivery must be made as planned, but timetable has been changed. Make contact ASAP. Must have Laserian data. Use whatever means necessary.

There was no signature, no fax number, nothing that would indicate where the fax had originated. Ryan felt like a bowling ball had just lodged in his stomach. He could no longer deny it. Senna was involved. The fax proved it.

“What’s the Laserian data?” Paige asked as he gave her the fax to read.

“Who knows?” Ryan asked then tapped the book. “But I’d venture a guess that it has something to do with this.” He looked to Ron. “Have you told anyone else about this?”

“We copied it for Southgate. He said he was going to fax it to the FBI lab.”

“Heard anything back?”

“No,” Ron said. “And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t broadcast the fact that I called you. Southgate made it plain that our involvement was just barely being tolerated. He seems to think it’d be best if we stepped aside altogether and let the Bureau handle it.”

“Then why haven’t they?” Ryan asked.

Ron shrugged. “Not my department, my friend.”

Ryan picked up the book. “Can I get a copy of this?”

“Already taken care of,” Ron handed him a stack of paper. “But you didn’t get it from me.”

Ryan smiled his appreciation. “How could I? I haven’t seen you.”

Ron nodded and gathered up the evidence. Ryan turned to Paige who was uncharacteristically quiet. She arched one eyebrow at him. “I won’t say I told you so,” she smirked and turned toward the door. “But I did.”

Ryan suppressed a sharp retort. She was right. “We’d better take this to the captain,” he said as they left the lab.

“And tell him what? That we’ve got information we’re not supposed to have about a case we’re not supposed to be on anymore?”

Ryan grimaced and didn’t reply. They got on the elevator and he punched the button for the lobby, but when the doors opened he didn’t follow Paige out. Instead he reached for the control panel.

“What?” Paige asked, stepping back into the elevator.

“Don’t you find it strange that the lab was sent back to the Weston scene and we weren’t notified? Not to mention the fact that if the FBI has taken over the case, then it should be their lab that’s handling forensics.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “And where’s this Southgate been? Have you seen him? I haven’t.”

“I think it’s time we talked to the captain.”

Downtown Charlotte

Senna felt the sting of the needle in her arm but was too lethargic to even flinch. She realized she was in a state of deep hypnosis that is often referred to as somnambulism. It felt like a deep peaceful sleep, but one in which part of her mind was aware of what was taking place around her.

A curious burning sensation seemed to rush through her body as the injection was administered. Even under hypnosis, she struggled against the feeling. It was like fire in her veins. She started to cry out but the sensation faded before she could make a sound. In the place of the burning was an odd heaviness, as if she was suddenly composed of a far denser matter than mere flesh and bone.

By the time the thought registered in her mind, it disappeared. A voice spoke into her right ear. “Senna, I want you to listen very carefully. We’re going to go back. You’re fifteen years old and you’re preparing to leave Iraq with your mother. I want you to tell me what happens when you and your mother leave the house you were staying in.”

As if seeing a film being projected in her mind, the sights of Iraq appeared before her. They grew in size, taking on dimension and sound and smell, until they became real. For the next five hours, she relived the day her parents died, over and over. Each time she would reach the point when she was being pulled away from her mother, who was lying on the floor in the airport, she would experience a total void. There would be nothing but blackness, like empty space.

At last the doctors admitted defeat and brought her out of the hypnotic state. When she first opened her eyes she felt a bit disoriented and dizzy. It was almost as if reality was the memory and the memory was what was real. It was a most peculiar and disconcerting sensation and she said so.

“It’s an aftereffect of the drug,” Ian told her, even though Dr. Kinski cut him a nasty look.

“What exactly did you give me?”

“That is not important.” Kinski didn’t give Ian a chance to respond. She made no comment and Kinski turned away to address Slater. “The blood levels will have fallen to an acceptable level within thirty-two hours. There are seven other possibilities left to us. We will make our next attempt in thirty-four hours.

“Hold on!” Senna pushed herself up. “What do you mean seven possibilities?”

“He means there are seven other drugs that may facilitate unblocking your memory,” Slater answered. “We have to try them one by one, then in combination until we come up with the right formula.”

“I don’t think so.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“You don’t think so what?” Slated pinned her with a cold stare.

“I’m not going to be some guinea pig shot full of drugs! That wasn’t part of the deal.”

“Young woman, at this point you don’t have a choice,” Slater informed her. “You see, I mean to have what, if any, information you have locked up in that pretty little head of yours and I will have it regardless of what means I have to resort to in order to retrieve it. Now, you can make this hard on yourself and everyone else or you can make it easy. The choice is yours, but either way, I assure you, you will do what I say. Is that clear?”

Senna was not only intimidated by his tone of voice and his commanding manner, she was scared of the way he advanced on her with eyes as cold and hard as ice. She had no doubt that he would do exactly as he said. It was then she realized that she was trapped. There was no way she could fight the CIA and win.

“I think we’ve all had enough for one night,” Konnor intervened. “Why don’t I take Dr. Laserian home? You know where to find us.”

Slater nodded. “Make sure of that. In thirty-four hours we try again.”

Konnor nodded and took Senna’s arm. Neither of them spoke until they got on the elevator then she looked up at him. “Do you realize what’s going on here? Do you really understand what they’re planning on doing, or doesn’t it matter? Am I just part of the job to you, Konnor?”

“What else would you be?” he asked without looking at her.

That was enough to make tears spring into her eyes. Jerking her arm away from him, she put as much distance between them as the narrow confines of the elevator would allow. When the doors open she didn’t budge. He stepped outside and kept his hand on the door to prevent it from closing but she refused to look at him or move. After what seemed a long time, he stepped back inside the elevator to take her arm.

She tried to pull away but his grip was like a vise. “Let’s go.” His voice was harsh and hard.

They walked to the car and he opened the door for her. Without a word she got in. He closed the door and rounded the car to get in behind the wheel. They drove several blocks then he suddenly made a sharp right turn and accelerated. Senna had no idea what was going on and the hard set of his jaw deterred her intention to demand an explanation.

For the next ten minutes they literally raced around the city. She could see no pattern or reason to the route they took. It seemed as if they doubled back as much as they went in a new direction. At last the car slowed and Konnor looked over at her. She opened her mouth to speak and he put his index finger to his lips in a silencing gesture.

A few minutes later he drove behind an old warehouse on the north side of town and stopped the car. She sat perfectly still, looking around the mean area suspiciously as he got out of the car and raised the hood. She saw him go into the trunk then get down on the ground. Finally he got back in the car, looking under the seats and the dashboard.

When he rose he had something in his hand. She looked at it with a question on her face. He smiled and tossed it out of the window. “Bug,” he said as he started the car.

“Bug? You mean…but why? You work for them!”

“First rule of the game,” he said. “Trust no one.”

Senna was perplexed. He seemed so different now than how he had been when they left Ian’s office. She didn’t know what to think. As if sensing her confusion, he turned to look at her. “It would be my guess that the building is wired. I couldn’t take any chances.”

“You mean what happened in the elevator…” She didn’t finish the sentence.

“As far as Slater is concerned, you’re nothing more than another assignment,” he said.

“And what about where you’re concerned?”

“You shouldn’t have to ask.”

“Maybe I’m not as smart as you think,” she replied, feeling ill at ease and embarrassed.

“Don’t play that game with me. If you want to know something, ask me straight out.”

She was stung by the irritation in his voice and fell silent. Neither of them spoke again until they reached her house. Senna opened the door to the gatehouse and turned on the lights as she walked in.

The place looked like a cyclone had blown through it. The furniture was overturned, cushions and pads torn apart, bookcases emptied and turned over, and pictures ripped from the walls.

“Oh, my god.” She looked around in dismay.

Konnor’s face was set in a hard mask. “Call and make sure your aunt is okay then gather up your things.”

Senna didn’t argue but went straight to the phone. “Hi, it’s Senna. Is Min there?… Okay, thanks.”

She covered the mouthpiece to speak to Konnor. “What should I tell her—about this, I mean?”

“Nothing. Just say that you’re going to be away for a few days and will be in touch.”

“Hi,” she spoke into the phone. “I just wanted to let you know that I’m going to be away for a few days… No, actually, I just need to get away for a bit… No, I’ll be with a friend… I don’t know. When I find out I’ll call and let you know where to reach me… Yes, I’m fine. Don’t worry. I’ll talk to you soon. I love you”

She hung up the phone and turned to Konnor. “I don’t think she believed me.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said brusquely. “Get your things.”

She started to argue. It did matter, at least to her. Minora was the only family she had and she didn’t like lying to her. If Minora discovered the gatehouse in the condition it was in now, she would be worried sick. “Konnor, I don’t think—”

“Senna. Listen to me!” He grabbed her by both arms. “This isn’t a game. We’re up against people who would think nothing about blowing you, your aunt, or half this city into oblivion if it got them closer to what they want. So from now on, you’re either going to have to trust me to know what’s best or…”

“Or what?” she asked when he looked away.

“Or you won’t make it,” he said in a flat tone.

“You mean I’ll die?” Her voice broke with the question.

“Yes.”

She stared up at him with tear-filled eyes. “I’m scared. Konnor, I’m terrified and I don’t know what to do. You tell me I have to trust you, but you work for them and I’m as afraid of them as I am of the unknown whoevers you all keep telling me are out there after me.”