Vaccine Nation (22 page)

Dani left with Roland, escorted by two men he didn’t identify, but assumed were Secret Service agents. As they crossed the Capitol grounds toward the Capitol East Front steps, she saw a crowd milling around on the grounds and on the steps. There must’ve been at least 250 people there.
Thrilling!
Not because she’d just blown open the entire vaccine debate, but because she was going to be given an opportunity to get that message out to every parent and grandparent in America, via the national news media. As they got closer she saw a few dozen placards held aloft in people’s hands. She read a few. “Go, Dani!” “Vaccine Choice: Here to Stay.” “Give Us Our Children Back.” Her heart was thumping in her chest. She couldn’t wait.

Madsen felt as if someone had sucked the life from him. He had to muster the energy to walk to the door to close it. Not only did he have a daughter he’d never known, but he was doing his best to have her killed.
Unbelievable.
His hands were trembling when he dialed the contractor. The call went directly to voicemail. “Code word uncle. Call me. It’s urgent. I need you to abort. Leave the girl alone.” He put the phone back in his pocket.
What are the odds.
That was one of the only times he’d been unable to reach the man. He went back behind Tillman’s desk and sat down.
What’s happened to
me? He couldn’t believe how low he’d sunk. Now he thought about Stiles, too. He dialed Xavier. Voicemail again. He left a similar message about aborting. Then typed a message on his BlackBerry to Stiles. “Urgent. Call Xavier. 646-746-9890. Tell him code word submarine.”

A moment later he sat up with a start.
Dani.
She’d be getting in front of the microphones. She’d be exposed and the contractor would be there. He ran from the room, headed for the elevators and decided he didn’t have time to wait for one. He passed Cindy halfway to the stairs, ran down the stairwell and out the door. Passersby stared in surprise as he ran past them across the Capitol grounds. As he approached the East Front steps, he could see the reporters, camera crews and a crowd assembled, with a small group behind a woman standing at the microphones.
Dani!
His daughter.
Run!

As he got halfway up the steps, he slowed to a brisk walk, taking two steps at a time, so as not to attract so much attention. He looked for cops, looked for a scar-faced man with blue eyes. He circled around the group of reporters and headed for the top step. As he neared it, he realized a few reporters had recognized him.
Where the fuck is the security?
He couldn’t believe no one had stopped him. He raced across the portico, toward Dani, who
was surrounded only by a few handlers. He was now 20 feet from her, 15 feet. A face flashed in the crowd. He saw a snarling mouth and acne scars, sunglasses, and heard a sound like a softball hitting an aluminum bat, once, twice, three times. His guts exploded and his feet went out from underneath him. He stared at the sky, then faces peering down at him to the sound of screams.

Stark decided not to drop the Ruger; he might need it in the next few minutes. His mouth was dry, like it always was at the kill moment, and his pulse was racing. After dropping Madsen, he’d spun and pushed through the crowd, his eyes darting around for the cops who were responding to the screams. A woman was running down the steps, crying, “Oh my God, oh my God.” He followed her to the bottom of the steps and turned right, heading toward the trees near Constitution Avenue. He put his head down and kept walking as he saw a cop stopping traffic on First Street.
Crazy, but it worked.
The hell with the girl and the hell with the data. He’d give the code word to Xavier and get paid. Xavier wouldn’t hear any more from Madsen to damage Stark’s reputation. And Xavier would probably be as happy as Stark that Madsen, the asshole, was now out of his life forever.

He glanced back at the crowd, seeing two men in suits running after him, guns drawn.
Shit!
He pulled the Ruger out from under his windbreaker and ran. As he entered the trees he saw two more men with guns in front of him. He veered right just as he felt two slams in his back. He fell face down, knowing it was over.

Dani heard the three shots and knew what they were before she smelled cordite. One of the Secret Service agents grabbed her by the shoulders, sped her toward the Capitol building and sat her behind one of the columns. People were all around her screaming and crying. She heard her name being called. A man’s voice. She craned her neck and saw the man lying on the ground, a pool of blood around him, two people crouching over him. The Capitol steps had been cleared, and she could see a dozen policemen forming a perimeter around the area. It was the man lying on the ground who was calling her name. One of the Secret Service agents walked toward them. The agent next to her stood up.

“The area is secure,” the agent said. “I recognize the man who was shot. It’s Grover Madsen. He’s calling for Dani.”

Madsen! Calling for me?

The agent looked at Dani. “He wants to speak to you. It’s safe.” He looked almost apologetic. “I don’t think he has much time.”

Dani’s knees were weak, her legs wobbly when she stood up. One of the agents held her by the arm and brought her to Madsen. His face was contorted with pain. Her ears were ringing, she didn’t think from the shots, but the shock of seeing a man shot in front of her again. And she had seen the killer. That same man, that same acne-scarred face that had rushed up to Maguire in her office, standing in front of Madsen before Madsen went down.

She knelt down next to him. His eyes were glassy, then seemed to focus on her. He grabbed her forearm, squeezing it with a force that surprised her, even hurt her. He whispered something, then his grip loosened and his hand went limp.

C
INDY ARRIVED FORTY-FIVE MINUTES EARLY
for Mass in the main sanctuary at Holy Trinity. It had been two weeks since her last confession, a long time for her. Father Alain walked into the confessional booth. A parishioner got up from a pew three or four rows in front of her and joined him. Cindy was next. She always said her confession in French, one of the last means she had of staying connected to her father’s French-Canadian roots. She pondered what Father Alain’s penance might be; she didn’t lie very often, and this had been a big one. Egregious. To Grover, telling him Dani was his daughter. But more to Ray, by denying she was his. She fished into her handbag and pulled out the little black English-French dictionary she always kept there. She looked up the translation for “egregious.”
“Énorme,”
she rehearsed the word.

Stiles sat in his office, wondering about Madsen’s last email message. He’d made the call to Xavier, given him the code name “submarine” and never understood what was going on. When he’d asked Xavier for an explanation, the man simply hung up. When he’d called back a day later, the number had been disconnected.

It was the least of his concerns. His phone rang, followed by a buzz on the intercom.

“Frank Dwyer from KellerDorne,” his assistant said. Stiles’ friend, the CFO of the second biggest drug company.

“Hi, Frank.”

“Just called to see how you’re doing. When it hits the fan, it really splatters, doesn’t it?”

“Sounds like you’ve been reading my mail.”

“I heard they made you interim CEO.”

“Yeah. Not something I wanted.”

“How’s it going?”

“War on multiple fronts. I got the NYPD, the FBI, the US Attorney’s Office and McKean’s committee issuing subpoenas. Johnson in R&D and I will be getting deposed soon.”

“I’d like to tell you it’ll all blow over, but we’re dealing with the same thing over here.”

“Sounds like things in the industry are going to change,” Stiles said.

Dani sat with Mom on the deck at the Twin Lakes house facing the lake. Gabe and Jack paddled a canoe a hundred yards offshore. Dani could see that Gabe wasn’t wearing his life vest. They were both in for a lecture when they got back.
Well, maybe.
She felt so blessed to be back safely so she could watch Gabe out on the lake, Gabe doing anything at all. The flight from Washington had hit turbulence, and she’d prayed—Mom would have been pleased—to get home in one piece, that all she wanted was to return home to see her Gabe again. The sun felt great, so she
stripped off her windbreaker, noticing the bruises and scrapes on her left hand and arm from going over that wall, and the bruises on her right forearm where Madsen had gripped her in his deaththroes.
What a horror the whole thing was.

“Well, sweetie, you’ve created quite a sensation, as usual,” Mom said. “I watched the news this morning—you should’ve seen Gabe’s face when he saw the TV was ‘fixed’—and the story is still all over it.”

“I know. Yesterday I heard they’d gotten calls from 25,000 people who said they participated in the second five years of Project Epsilon. Another 50,000 texted
Face the Press
to say they’d participate in the unvaccinated control group if the government wants to do an epidemiological study of vaccine side effects. And McKean’s committee is already making noises that it’s ready to make a recommendation to Congress to remove the pharmaceutical industry’s immunity from lawsuits on vaccines, and force new safety studies of vaccine ingredients. Progress.” She smiled.

Mom squeezed Dani’s hand. “Sounds like that might be Grover Madsen’s legacy.”

“You still never told me how you knew Madsen,” she said to Mom.

“An old flame,” Mom said. “My first love, actually.”

Dani felt a mixture of shock and wonder. Mom was a brassy lady, and Dani had always wondered what she’d kept from her about her past. “Did Dad know?”

“It was before his time. There’s no need to tell a man everything.”

Dani took in the sight of the sun reflecting off the lake, Gabe and Jack in the canoe. She felt a breeze on her face. “You have no
idea how surprised I was to see you standing outside the police perimeter at the Capitol.”

“I can imagine. If you’d been answering one of your cell phones, I would’ve let you know.”

“Let’s not talk about that. It was a bad time.”

Mom rested her hand on Dani’s arm. “I know, sweetie, it was for me, too.” Mom had tears in her eyes. Dani rested her hand on top of hers. “You haven’t told me what Grover said to you.”

“He said, ‘It’s over. You’re safe. I’m sorry, little girl.’”