Pandora's Box (6 page)

He said, “Do you expect us to believe those were his last words after trying to assassinate the President of the
United States
?”

“Don’t browbeat my people,” DeMarco said, the only one to jump to her defense.
 
“If
Madison
says her father told her he loved her, then that’s what happened.
 
I’ve known her for years.
 
She’s an exceptional agent.”

“This is a very sensitive matter,” the vice president said.
 
“Her father, a highly trusted CIA agent, tried to kill the president tonight.
 
He’s a traitor.
 
Maybe she is too.”

“She’s not!” DeMarco’s voice went up a notch.

“Would you bet your life on it?”

“Yes, I would,” DeMarco said, boldly circling the table to stand beside her.

With a smug smirk like a gambler laying down the winning hand, Mercer said, “What about the president’s life?”
 

He walked away from the table without another word and a huge round of shouting began.
 
Everyone had something to say, mostly negative stuff about her father.
 
Instead of defending the man she’d known her whole life, she sat stiff as a board, silent.
 
Her tongue felt like lead in her dry mouth.

Madison
glanced down at her hands, neatly folded in her lap.
 
Dried blood stained the back of one and filled the spaces beneath her fingernails.
 
Her father’s blood.
 
Her entire body shook uncontrollably.
 
She closed her eyes and replayed the tragic event in her head.
 

In her mind she saw her father pass by without a glance in her direction.
 
His features had been fixed straight ahead.
 
Then he’d pulled the gun.
 
She remembered trying to stop him.
 
For the first time in her life, he’d hit her.
 
Well, he’d shoved her.
 
There hadn’t been an ounce of concern or warmth in his eyes. almost like he hadn’t recognized her.

She didn’t get it.
 

Her father was not a killer—or a traitor.

A solitary tear rolled down her cheek.
 
She clenched her hands into tight fists and sat up straighter, steeling herself against the attack she was sure would come.
 
Madison
silently recited lessons learned from her years with the CIA and the two years she’d spent with the Secret Service.
 
She was determined not to fall apart in front of these people.

DeMarco yelled over the others. “You can’t hold her father’s sins against her!”

The room quieted to a dull murmur.

“Perhaps not.”
 
The secretary of defense spoke up.
 
“But you’ll have to relieve her of her duties until she’s cleared of any connection to what happened tonight.
 
We can’t have a possible traitor working so closely with the president.”

“Are you kidding me?”
 
DeMarco’s face reddened.
 
“She’s put herself in harm’s way at least a dozen times to save the president.
 
That should count for something.”

Mentally exhausted,
Madison
slowly rose to her feet.
 
Every eye turned in her direction and the two primary fighting men ceased their argument as they both waited for her next action.
 
She shook her head slowly at DeMarco.

“Forget it,” she said.
 
“I need time off anyway.
 
In case you gentlemen failed to notice, my father died tonight.”

“I’m sorry, Maddie.”
 
DeMarco headed back in her direction, pity alight in his eyes, and she knew he was going to embrace her.

She took a step backwards and held up both hands to stop him.
 
“I’m okay.
 
I’m going home—”

“No, you’re not,” the vice president interrupted her.
 
“We haven’t finished questioning you yet.”

DeMarco opened his mouth to defend her again, but
Madison
had had enough.
 
Anger surged through her.
 
It warmed her to the depths of her soul.
 
She wasn’t going to let the bastards treat her like a criminal.
 
DeMarco didn’t need to worry about that.

“Unless you are going to arrest me for being related to Duncan Grey, I am going home.”
 
She stood tall, chin high, and stared holes through them.
 
“Later on when you realize the foolish mistake you’ve just made and you try to get me to come back to the service, I’ll let you know if I feel like it then.”
 
She grabbed her wrap.
 
“Don’t hold your breath.”

Madison
turned on one heel and stalked from the conference room.
 
There were too many people in the hallway, other agents, people she knew.
 
The last thing she wanted was another confrontation.
 
She stepped inside a vacant room and closed the door behind her.
 
She sagged against it.
 
What now?

She could bury her father with a soiled name, demand a polygraph to prove her own innocence, and play it safe in order to hold onto her job.
 
Or she could rattle a few cages around town until the truth came out.
 
She knew deep down her father wasn’t guilty of treason.
 
Even though she’d seen him aim the gun, she knew there was a reasonable explanation behind it.
 
Her father must have been trying to save the president from some unknown threat, perhaps someone at the ball.

Raised voices interrupted her quiet thoughts as people entered the room next door.
 
Her eyes fell on the partially open door that connected the two rooms.
 
She froze as she recognized the president’s voice.
 

“Well, it’s official now,” President Malcom Law said.
 
“There’s a conspiracy taking place here.
 
First homeless people try to kill me and now an old friend shoots at me?
 
I want the names of those behind it, and I wanted them as of yesterday!
 
Is that clear,
Tyler
?”

“Yes, sir,”
Tyler
replied.
 
“It would help if I had a list of your enemies.”

Madison
moved toward the voices.
 
She took careful steps.
 
Her hands touched the interior wall.
 
She tilted her head sideways, rested her head against it and listened.

The first lady’s laughter floated through the open door.
 
“
Tyler
sweetie, you have no idea what you’re asking.
 
Why don’t you make a list of people who don’t want to kill your father instead?
 
It would be shorter.”

“Vivian,” the president’s voice rose in warning.

The first lady ignored it.
 
“Think of all the poor trees that will give their lives to make that long, long list.”

“Vivian, not in front of the boy!”

“I don’t suppose you’d be willing to cancel your appointments for the next few weeks,”
Tyler
said, sounding tired.
 
“Make yourself a scarce target.”

“Out of the question,” the president said.
 
“I will not run and hide from these cowards.
 
The Secret Service will continue to protect me and I think the CIA and FBI can handle the job of finding the people responsible.
 
You really should think about returning to the Navy, son.”

Madison
tensed, listening for
Tyler
’s response.
 
Would he leave?

Did she care?

The door behind her opened.
 
It was DeMarco.
 
He started to say something but she shook her head firmly, cutting off what he would have said.
 
He heard the president’s voice.
 
His expression hardened.
 
Madison
motioned for him to leave.
 
She followed him out into the hallway.

“What the hell were you doing, Maddie?
 
Eavesdropping on the first family is never a smart thing to do.
 
In your present position, you can’t afford to get caught doing anything that can be pegged as disloyal.”

She sighed.
 
“I didn’t know they were in the next room, Marc.
 
I just wanted to be alone to gather my thoughts.
 
Okay?”

“Let me drive you home,” he offered.

“No, thank you.”
 
He would have argued with her, but she didn’t give him the chance.
 
“I need to be alone.
 
Seriously.
 
Please respect that.”

He nodded and took a step backwards, his hands going deep into the pockets of his black trousers.
 
She walked away.

Once she hit the street, her shoulders sagged under the weight of her father’s apparent betrayal and resulting death.
 
As she walked down the sidewalk in the chilly night air, she vowed to find the truth.
 
No matter what it cost her, she was going to find out why her father had pulled a gun tonight.

******

After a quick stop at her apartment to change from the sexy dress to casual slacks,
Madison
went to work to clear her father’s name.
 
She felt more like herself in her street clothes with her hair secured in a tight ponytail.

The real CIA headquarters was not in the
Langley
,
Virginia
building with the giant logo on the lobby floor and well-dressed operatives who looked more like bankers than spies.
 
That was simply a symbol for the people, a showplace.
 
No, the actual building where the good stuff was housed and the agents secretly planned their missions was located on the low-rent side of
Washington
DC
.
 
A
CONDEMNED
sign had been hung on the rickety building long ago to turn visitors away.

Madison
entered through the alley door.
 
A camera in the corner of the large empty room slowly swung to focus on the elevator.
 
After a five second hesitation, it journeyed back to its beginning position.
 
Madison
raced to the elevator.
 
She ticked the seconds off in her head, painfully aware she only had twenty before the camera found her.
 
She grabbed the black gate, ignoring the
Out of Order
sign, and jerked hard.
 
The gate slid to the side with a loud clang.
 
She darted in with time running out and shoved the gate closed again.

The camera’s eye turned in her direction.

She leaped sideways.
 
Her back hit the wall hard, jarring her slightly.
 
Once the camera looked away, she stepped to the center of the elevator.
 
Madison
jumped in the air like a cheerleader performing her show-stopping number and did the splits.
 
Her feet banged against both sides of the elevator.
 
She glanced up.
 
The trap door remained just out of reach.
 
Gritting her teeth, she gyrated upwards, using her hips and thigh muscles to propel herself closer.
 
She gained another few inches.

She punched the metal sheet out of her way, grabbed the sides, and hoisted herself up through the opening.
 
Fortunately one of her training maneuvers while working for the CIA had been to break into headquarters without getting caught.
 
Her superior had figured if agents could get by his trained people and a heavily armed security team, they could handle anything foreign governments could throw at them.

She’d been one of the few who’d actually managed to get inside.
 
However, this time if she got caught, the director of the CIA would have her jailed.
 
No pats on the back or congratulations.

The elevator shaft was dark, but
Madison
knew where the metal ladder leading to the CIA’s secret home base was located.
 
She reached out a blind hand, sliding her feet carefully along the top of the elevator until her fingers closed on a cold steel wrung.
 
She climbed down the ladder set in a deep groove beside the phony elevator.

Now if her luck would hold.
 
Her next obstacle would be a night security guard.
 
Madison
silently prayed the guard’s routine hadn’t been altered.