The Defender (The Carrier Series Book 2) (20 page)

I was thinking the same thing.

“You could say there’s a little bad blood between Eneclann and
IIA,” Agent McCombe replied smugly. “Apparently they don’t appreciate the
federal government digging into their precious files.”  

I stood from my chair and leaned forward over the table. “My
girlfriend is one of his victims! I don’t have time to screw around, wasting
time!”

“Calm yourself, Agent Hill. The IIA and the FBI have the same
objectives. I believe we can work together here.”

“Agent Kane is right. There is still much to do, and we could
use your help.” Darcy tried to catch Drew’s eye, but he did not return her
glance.

After several seconds of silence, Drew answered like a kid
finally agreeing to his parents’ terms. “Fine, as long as we are privy to the
same intel, I suppose Agent Bowman would expect us to cooperate.”

Drew finally peeked up at Darcy, but his expression was not
pleasant.

“Great,” Agent Kane replied. Then he turned to the screen and
continued his speech. “The IIA has been investigating a strange and rare
phenomenon affecting Irish citizens for the past several decades, and we now
have reason to believe it could have ties with Mr. Myers.”

Suddenly, a young man in a suit poked his head into the
conference room. “Excuse me, sir. We have Agent Bowman.”

“Perfect. Thank you, Agent Flynn.” The man left the room and
Agent Kane pressed a few buttons on the computer built into the glass table.
Agent Bowman’s face showed on several screens around the room as well as in an
image projected above the middle of the table. I heard his voice over the
speakers built into the walls and ceiling.

Bowman pushed up his glasses with one finger. “Good day, Agent
Kane. Agent Hill, Agent Smith. Nice to see you all.”

“Hello, Agent Bowman. Thank you for calling. May I introduce
Agent Darcy McCombe. She’s been acting as liaison for your agents while they
have been in town.”

“Nice to meet you, sir,” Darcy said.

“You as well, Agent McCombe.”

“Agent Bowman, what progress has the FBI made since we’ve spoke
last?”

“We know Ethan Myers is interested in genetic mutations and
diseases treated with gene-based medicine, but unfortunately his research and
lab was destroyed when we detonated the CBB headquarters in Milwaukee.”

“We blew it up?” I yelled at the computer screen. Agent McCombe
shot me a rude look.

“Yes. Thirty minutes after you and Agent Smith exited that day,
our team hit an invisible detonator and the building exploded, including all
the records inside it.”

“So we have nothing?”

“Not necessarily, Agent Hill. Myers would never risk ruining his
invaluable collection of data. We simply need to locate his auxiliary cache.
Meanwhile, our research team and genetic scientists have been studying types of
induced gene mutation and their repercussions. We’re making some good advances
and we suspect our mole on the inside will be bringing us the information we
need to proceed even further.”

Drew leaned forward in his chair. “You’ve got a man on the
inside?”

“We have a double agent playing for both Myers and the FBI. So
far the double has provided several important bits of intelligence, including
the whereabouts of Myers’s current refuge and research facility.”

“What about Ava?” Drew asked. “Is she considered safe, or does
Intel believe Myers will go after her?”  

“All our intel indicates she is currently secure. We’d like
Agent Greene to continue watching over her, of course, but we have reason to
believe she is in no immediate danger.”

I let out an audible sigh of relief. “I’ll text Adam and let him
know.”
Bowman says no immediate danger. You can back off.
Was that too
pushy? I didn’t care. I put the phone back on the table in front of me and
tried to listen, but my mind was filled with thoughts of Ava. They discussed
something about a cure, the vulnerability of the blue meteor, and the November
first deadline.

Darcy whispered into Drew’s ear, her hand on his shoulder. He was
smiling.

Agent Bowman addressed Drew and me. “Agents, it is imperative
that you unearth the motives behind Myers’s obsession with genetic engineering.
Find out specifically what Myers’s grandfather, Dr. Ó Meidhir, discovered
through his medical practice.”

“We’re sending you to the quaint city of Killarney in County
Kerry,” Agent Kane added.

Finally, a little progress. “When do we leave?” I asked.

“In the morning. Now you two go up to your rooms and get some
rest. It looks like your journey here in the Emerald Isle isn’t over yet.”

“We’re happy to stay as long as you’ll have us.” Drew glanced
over toward Darcy, and she smiled confidently.

“Good luck, agents. I will be in touch.” Agent Bowman
disappeared from above the table and the screens turned black.

Agent Kane opened the door to the conference room. He led us
past the busy agents and to the door to the boiler room.

“It was nice meeting you, boys. I wish you the luck of the Irish
on your next task. So long!”

“Thank you,” Drew and I replied.

Darcy led us back through the basement boiler room and to the
lobby elevators where we rode to the fourth floor. I thought for a short second
that I caught them holding hands. We walked down the hallway and they paused
near Drew’s hotel room door.

“So…Darcy thought she should stick around here for dinner in
case we need to consult her for anything. Did you want to join us?” Drew was
giving me an eye message—it was obvious he didn’t want me to join them for
dinner, but felt obligated to ask.

“No thanks, I’ll just order in. You two have fun. I’ll see you
in the morning.”

“The Arlington has great room service, Nolan.”

“Thanks, Darcy,” I said, unlocking my room. I closed the door
and peeked through the peephole. Drew kissed Darcy in the hallway, and then she
opened the door to his hotel room and pulled him in by his shirt collar,
giggling.

I sighed and slid my room key into the little white box on the
wall so that the lights would turn on—a trick that took me almost thirty
minutes to figure out my first night in Ireland. My cell buzzed. It was Adam.

“Nolan.” There was anxiety in his voice.

“What’s wrong, Adam?” My heart rate began to sputter. “Is Ava
okay?” There was a long pause. “Adam!”

His voice was quiet and calm, but there was still something
disturbing about it. “No, she’s safe at home. I just dropped her off and am
sitting in my car around the corner with an eye on her front door.”

“So? What’s the problem?” I sat down on the chair by the window
and leaned back.

“I don’t know how, Nolan, but I think…I think he saw me with
Ava.”

“Who? Myers? Impossible.” I sat forward and put my elbows on my
knees, my mind thinking. “Where do you think he is? Did you see him?”

“Well, not exactly, but a dark car pulled out right behind me
today and followed us for several blocks until I was able to lose it.”

I gave a little half laugh under my breath. That’s what was so
upsetting?

“That could have been anyone! Look, I’m sure Bowman has good
reason to believe Ava is safe.”

“I guess.” Then he said something under his breath. “I just hope
Myers doesn’t know I’m here—I mean, Ava’s here.” There was a pause in which
neither of us knew what to say until he said, “Oh, and there’s something else.”

I stood up from my chair and stared through the window out over
glorious Dublin. Nervous butterflies were sneaking up on me again. “What’s
wrong?”

“I’m slightly concerned about Ava’s health. She’s experiencing
environmentally induced blackouts coupled with severe pain and confusion.”

“And what does that all mean?”

“Well, basically events from Ava’s daily life trigger a vision
within her brain from the time period which I thought had been erased.”

“How could that be?” A tiny glimmer of hope swelled inside
me—maybe they didn’t erase all her memories of us!

“The brain houses carbon copy imprints of memories. Ava’s
visions are these imprints but her brain is confused because it has no actual
memories to attach the visions to. I’m afraid these painful blackouts may begin
to disintegrate parts of her brain and if not stopped, she could suffer from
permanent brain damage.”

The River Liffey sparkled with sunlight outside my window, and
in contrast, my heart felt like it was blackened and dull. My poor Ava was
suffering, and I couldn’t be there to help her through it.

“What do we do? We have to discontinue these visions.”

“I’ve been emailing one of my colleagues in London and searching
all my medical journals.”

“And?” I tapped the window with my finger.

“And I haven’t found an answer yet, but I know I will. Have
faith in me, Nolan.”

Faith was something I had been lacking lately.

“Perhaps the reversal procedure may have to take place sooner
than we had thought. You two better hurry up and catch Myers before he can
decide he wants Ava in his lab immediately.”

“Just take care of her. Keep her safe until I can come back to
her.”

“I will, Nolan. I promise.”

Monday, October 20th

Darcy came to see us off the next morning wearing her routine
skirt suit and two-inch heels. She stood on the street curb leaning onto the
passenger side door of a metallic blue BMW Z4 Roadster.

“Hot ride, Darcy,” I called, wondering how she got her hands on
such a fancy car.

“Woo!” Drew hooted as he dropped his suitcase on the sidewalk
and scooped up Darcy, swinging her around. “Yes! This is it?”

“What?” I asked as I picked up Drew’s bag and brought it closer
to Darcy and him.

“The IIA has issued you this junker to drive across the country
to County Kerry. I hope she’ll do.”

“Sweet,” I said, eyes wide.

“There is a GPS unit installed into the dash and I’ve taken the
liberty of programming a trip map for you. In the accommodations screen is the
hotel information for when you get to Killarney.”

“Thanks for your help, Darcy. It was a pleasure working with
you.” I shook her hand and then opened the passenger side door. Once inside I
could see Darcy and Drew kissing outside the window. I wondered just how
attached Drew had become in the short week we were here. A soft mumbling of
their voices filled my ears, and I painfully remembered the last farewell I
said to Ava.

Several minutes later the door opened and Drew slid in. He sat
still for a moment, keys on his lap, and let out a loud sigh. Then he said with
little enthusiasm, “Let’s do this.” He started the ignition, slid the shifter
into drive, and pulled out into traffic, leaving Darcy waving on the sidewalk.

“You’ll be back for her.” Then the thought hit me that we’d both
be suffering from a broken heart on our journey to County Kerry.  

*     *
    *     *

The trip across Ireland was absolutely amazing. We spent four
hours driving on rolling roads through lush green mountains that towered over
small crystal clear lakes with little colorful rowboats waiting at the rocky
shorelines. We passed many beautiful country farms with white, fluffy sheep
grazing on the grassy hillsides around ancient grey stone fences marking
territories. I’d only once before seen scenery so spectacular, and that was in
Wisconsin Dells.

Right outside of Limerick we took the N21 southwest into
Killarney. I noticed a beautiful mountain out in the distance, and put on my
best Irish accent. “According to this website, that mountain is Carrauntoohill,
Ireland’s highest mountain.” Drew laughed at my obviously murdered
pronunciation of the mountain. I continued, speaking louder as a protest to his
poking fun. “At the base of the mountain sits the majestic Lakes of Killarney:
Lough Lea, Muckross Lough, and nearby Lough Guitane.”

Drew’s laughter had settled into a breathy giggle. “You are a
wealth of knowledge, my friend, but you better stop there before you find your
end.” He smiled through the windshield, humming a tune.

“Another song rolling around your brain?”

“Roger Doger. There’s always a tune floatin’ around my noggin.”
He hummed a few more notes until the voice on the GPS interrupted, telling him
to turn. Drew followed the N22 to Port Road—a local hint from Darcy to avoid
one-way streets. We followed along the Killarney National Forest and then drove
into the quaint village of Killarney.

The FBI had booked us two rooms at the handsome Killarney
Randles Court Hotel. We parked the car and then took our suitcases up the
stairs to the front entrance. The white-walled lobby was very fancy. Two
fireplaces sat on either side of the room and very expensive looking oversized
artwork hung on the other walls. Red velvet chairs were clustered in fours
around mahogany tables under crystal chandeliers. Exorbitant collections of
fresh flowers filled the room with an air of high society.

We approached the pleasant-looking lady at the front desk and
she directed us to our rooms on the second floor, wishing us a restful stay.
Upstairs we stopped in the hallway between our rooms. Drew twisted his torso to
crack his back before he stuck his key card in the door. “Man, I could use a
visit to the ol’ chiropractor.” Then a thought hit him and his eyes lit up from
the inside. “Oh my God. Did I ever tell you about my gorgeous chiropractor?”

I shook my head.

Drew opened his door and set his bag in the way to hold the door
open. “She was smokin’ hot so I faked some back pain so she could lay her sweet
hands on my skin twice a week.”

Drew jumped to a new level in my book. Faking back pain to get
touched by a doctor?

“She was totally into me, too. I just knew the way she smiled
her cute little pink lips at me. Anyway, our sessions were awesome. She mixed
in a little massage with her chiro junk and God, she knew exactly how to put me
right into a state of pure relaxation, right?”

“Seriously, Drew?”

“So this one time,” he went on, ignoring me, “I was lying on the
table half naked while Dr. Hottie was cracking my back and everything was going
just fine until she put the perfect amount of pressure directly between the T10
and T11 and…I farted.”

I burst out laughing, and Drew continued his story, talking over
me.

“Oh jeez, it smelled like week-old raunchy egg salad in that
little room, but she went right on working! Dr. Hottie didn’t even crack a
smile! It’s like there really is a genuine gas button right between the T10 and
T11!”  

“Oh my God, Drew.”

Then he slapped his hand on my lower back and said, “Come here.
Let me see if I can find the fart button!”

I pushed Drew back into the wall. “Knock it off! You are no
Doctor Hottie!”

Drew laughed and then picked up his bag and let out an overly
obnoxious yawn. “I need a nap from that long drive.” He walked through the door
and then stuck his head out for one more comment. “After a few winks let’s hit
the pub I saw down the street for supper.”

“See you in a few hours.” I opened the door to my room just as
Drew’s started to close.

The guest rooms were just as lavish as the lobby. When I used
the bathroom I noticed heated marble floors, and when I slid under the bed sheets
I felt the softest linens I had ever touched. What I wouldn’t give to have Ava
with me enjoying this beautiful country and comfortable hotel.  

My sleep wasn’t very restful—I dreamt of Ava kissing another man
in a vast, dark room filled with masked people. I woke up feeling delusional,
heartbroken, and tired, but more motivated to get started on our research than
I had felt since the trip had started.

At the pub that night we read the mission documents Bowman had
sent us and discussed our plan. We knew church archives, graveyards, and public
records would be the first places to search. We needed to find Myers’s
relatives and figure out what prompted Myers to become the person he is.

Doubt was looming in the back of my mind. Our quest to find
knowledge wouldn’t be too easy.

   *
    *     *     *

Tuesday, October 21st

Drew checked online and found nine churches in town, but decided
to take us to St. Mary’s Church of Ireland since it looked the oldest and
probably had the largest source of records.

The church looked like it had been occupying that green patch of
grass for several hundred years. The front doors were comprised of ancient wood
with two circular iron door handles.

“Should we knock?” I asked as we approached.

“I don’t think so. Let’s just go on in.” Drew lifted one of the
metal rings and pulled open the heavy door. It creaked in protest as it swung
open into a cozy nave which opened into a large sanctuary.

“Hello?” He called as we walked into the cold, open space. His
voice echoed over the pews.

We wandered past a few rows, but there was still no sign of
anyone. “Hello?” I repeated.

“Can I help you, gentleman?” A quiet and peaceful voice spoke
behind us. We turned around to see an old greying man wearing a brown robe
enter the sanctuary.   

“Yes, hello there. My cousin and I are researching the history
of certain Irish surnames and suspect your church may have some helpful
information for us. We were wondering if you’d be kind enough to share some of
your church records?”

The old man agreed to take us to the record room. We found books
after books on shelves lining walls much like the basement room at St.
Patrick’s.

“We are looking for information about a family with the last
name Ó Meidhir.” The old man gave me a perplexed look. Maybe my Gaelic wasn’t
up to snuff. I wrote the name down on a piece of paper and handed it over.

“Ah, Ó Meidhir. You wouldn’t be speaking of Alec and Lara Ó
Meidhir, would you?” The old man walked over to the shelf without waiting for
my reply.

“Possibly. Do you know them?” My heartbeat began to speed up.
Could this be the break we needed?

He set an old dusty book onto the table in front of us and began
to page through it as he spoke. “My father was a parishioner at this church for
many years before me. He became good friends with Alec and his family, who were
active congregation members long ago. Alec was the local physician in town and
was well known for his research medicine.”

“What exactly do you mean, ‘research medicine’?” I took out my
tablet, ready to take notes.

“In the early twentieth century, several townsfolk were
suffering from unusual and unexplained symptoms. Some even progressed to
extremely violent behaviors. Word floated through town that Dr. Alec kept a
medical study on his patients’ digressions. He spent his life dedicated to
solving the medical mystery surrounding these poor people.”

If this man was a friend of Myers’s ancestors, it’s possible he
was still in touch with Myers and we wouldn’t want to say too much in front of
him.  

“That sounds interesting. Do you have any more information about
these strange symptoms?”

“The answer is always in a book.” The old man flipped through
until he finally found the page he was looking for. “Here.” He pressed his
finger to the page. “Our records indicate that Alec, Lara, and their only
child, a boy named Clennan, lived on Pluckett Street in an apartment above Dr.
Ó Meidhir’s office.” He looked up from the text. “I believe the office still
stands and is property of family members.” He looked down again. “This says
Alec went to our Lord in 1933, only two years after little Clennan was born.”

“Does it indicate his cause of death?” Drew tried to peek at the
open page in the book but the old man noticed and pulled the book closer to
himself, running his fingers down the page.

“This book does not list a cause of death, although if I
remember correctly, he did not pass of natural causes.”

Drew was onto the next question before I could ask the old man
more about his last statement. “What about the strange symptoms the people of
Killarney were suffering from? Do you perhaps have additional information about
that?”

He looked nervous and paused for a second before answering.
“There isn’t anything written down about that, young man. Dr. Ó Meidhir
wouldn’t allow it.” The old man started to get fidgety, like he was saying too
much.

“He wouldn’t allow anyone to keep track of their symptoms?”
There was something fishy about this story. Perhaps the old man was going
senile. Could we really trust anything he was saying?

Drew and I waited for the man to answer my question, but he
stood staring at the wall, silent.

“Well, cousin,” Drew slapped me on the back. “I guess we are at
a dead end here. Poor Grandma will cry tears.”

The old man jerked to life, “I suppose I would be dishonest if I
said my knowledge of this topic ended there.” He leaned forward and lowered his
voice to a loud whisper. “My father told me the story many times. You see, all
this took place ten years after the meteor shower of 1901. Some of the
residents of Killarney began experiencing strange and unexplainable symptoms.”

“A meteor shower?” I whispered.

Why were we whispering?

“Yes. The gates of heaven itself opened up and dropped colorful
rocks from the Promised Land onto the earth.”

“Rocks from space?”

This couldn’t be a coincidence. I remembered my visit to Hayward
Kubas at the campsite in the Dells and how I thought he was crazy at the time.

The old man continued with careful caution. “These weren’t any
ordinary, run-of-the-mill rocks, boys. They were glowing blue with purple blaze
and they fell from the sky with great abundance.” His intensity turned up as he
continued sharing his secret. “Cottage roofs were damaged and vegetation caught
fire. Mass panic and confusion ensued as the people of Killarney thought the
end of the earth was near.” He stopped to take several deep breaths. Drew and I
thought he was finished, but he started up again. “Once the storm settled,
everyone in town picked up several meteors as curious keepsakes of that
horrible night.”