The Rook (28 page)

She grimaced a bit as she situated herself in her chair, and Ralph’s look of concern told me that he’d noticed. “Bruised my leg last night,” she explained. Then, she extended her lean leg in our direction. “I mean, would you look at that thing?”

I figured that since she’d invited me to, I’d better do what she asked. I stared thoughtfully at her leg. “Wow. Yeah. That’s something else, all right.”

Ralph glanced at her bruise, then at me, then asked Lien-hua,

“How’s it feel?”

“It’s OK,” she said. “It was pretty stiff this morning, but I did some tai chi in the hallway, that really helped.”

“The hallway?” Ralph said.

“Never mind,” I mumbled and stuffed some pancakes into my mouth. General Cole Biscayne brushed a fleck of lint off his uniform, slid his glasses up the bridge of his nose, and checked the time: 0809 hours.

Good. He liked the fact that they’d had to wait for him before beginning the meeting. He threw open the doors to the conference room and saw that the other members of the Project Rukh Oversight Committee were already assembled. They saluted, shook his hand, or offered him a slight nod depending on their rank and how well they knew the head of the Pentagon’s research and development agency.

He motioned with one finger to a woman standing at attention by the door. “Petty Officer Henley, the shades.”

“Yes, sir.” She walked to the wall of windows and closed off the panoramic view of the ocean and the line of smoke tilting into the sky. Then she left the room. This was not a meeting for someone of her rank.

General Biscayne chose to stand while the others sat. “Let’s cut to the chase.” He scanned the room. No one looked happy; most looked scared. Seated around the table were two other DARPA members, as well as North Island Naval Air Station Base Commander Admiral Norval Tumney, FBI Executive Assistant Director for Criminal Investigations Margaret Wellington, half a dozen other top-ranking defense department and intelligence agencies officials, and Victor Drake, president and CEO of Drake Enterprises.

“Gentlemen,” General Biscayne said, and then with a nod toward Ms. Wellington, he added, “and ladies. The police caught and killed the arsonist from last night’s attack. Good. I’m sure the investigation will go on for months and we’ll eventually find out all we need to know about him, but for right now, here’s what I want: will someone please tell me that the Project Rukh research wasn’t compromised before the facility was destroyed. Tell me we have confirmation that the prototype wasn’t stolen. Tell me I flew all the way out here for nothing, that I can relax, and then go back to Washington, meet with
the president tomorrow, and inform him that neither the research nor the prototype has gotten into the wrong hands. Tell me those things and I will leave this room a happy man.”

No one moved, except for those who averted eye contact with the general. Victor Drake began tapping his fingers rhythmically against the table.

“Let me be clear.” Anger prowled through the general’s words.

He yanked back the shades and pointed at the smoke. “The Department of Defense has invested nearly three billion dollars in this program, and we are not about to let all that go up in smoke because some rogue SEAL had a vendetta to pay.”

Still no answer from the group.

General Biscayne looked directly at Victor Drake. “How close was the device to being fully operational?”

“It was completed, but I’m sad to say it really doesn’t matter anymore. All the files, as well as the prototype, were destroyed in the fire.”

The general let the shades fall shut again. “All the research?”

“I’m afraid so. Nothing could be salvaged. We kept only hard copies of the research so it wouldn’t be possible for someone to hack in to the computer system and steal the findings. At this point, though, it looks like we may have made the wrong decision.”

“And the prototype as well? Destroyed? Are you certain?”

“Yes. No doubt about it.”

General Biscayne considered all this for a moment. If Victor was behind the fire—and it only made sense that he was—he probably
had
made sure to destroy the device. It was the only way to cover up his failure, the only course of action that made sense. So, maybe the fire was a good thing after all. The Department of Defense could get out of its dead-end contract with Drake Enterprises, blame the fire on terrorists, capitalize on the public outrage, and then use the incident to lobby for a substantial increase in the national security budget for the next fiscal year. FBI Executive Assistant Director Margaret Wellington coughed softly and then spoke up. Her voice reminded the general of a ratchet set. “General Biscayne, we are all aware that this project is of the utmost importance to you and the rest of your team at the Pentagon. Fine. But I’m new to this committee and I haven’t been adequately briefed on the exact scope of Project Rukh. The way in which all the pieces of research fit together still remains—”

“Classified,” he interrupted her. “And it does so for a reason.”

She tensed, folded her hands in front of her. Refused to be intimidated. “Do not interrupt me, General. I’m a civilian. That means you work for me.”

Silence squeezed its arms around the room. Squeezed it tight, until Admiral Norval Tumney, a man whom the general thought would have been more aptly named “Tummy” or “Tubby,” said, “The navy will do everything in its power to assure that this situation is resolved promptly and professionally.”

“I’m sure you will, Norv,” said General Biscayne. “It’s the only way to save your butt from a court-martial after letting this guy, Hunter, sneak onto the base and burn down B-14.”

The admiral’s face darkened with disdain, but General Biscayne didn’t care. “I want the remains of that building gone through with a tweezers. If there’s a shred of paper the size of my fingernail that survived the fire, I want it found. Am I making myself clear?”

Everyone except for Margaret Wellington nodded.

“And verify that the prototype was destroyed. I don’t need to tell you that it had better not fall into the wrong hands.” He riveted his eyes on Victor Drake. “And Drake, whatever paperwork you have stashed away in your office somewhere—and I know you have some—I want that as well. I want it all. We’re pulling the plugs on this. The DOD is finished with Drake Enterprises.” Then he stomped past the conference table and was halfway to the door before he threw one word back into the room: “Dismissed.”

Lien-hua, Ralph, and I let the breakfast conversation wander into sports and the weather and politics and Ralph’s struggles to conquer his son at video games and Lien-hua’s upcoming trip to visit her brother in Beijing, and it felt good to let our friendship explore other topics than just murder, death, and abductions. But soon, like always, our conversation cycled back to the case.

“Well,” said Ralph. He spoke tenderly, with respect for the dead.

“With Austin Hunter dead, Cassandra in the hospital, and the suspect from last night in police custody, I think you two might be able to head home. Margaret arrived last night. Lucky me. I get to spend the day with her.”

“We still have a lot of unanswered questions about this case,”

said Lien-hua. “Plus, we still need to find Shade.”

“Lien-hua is right,” I said. “At this point there are a lot more questions than answers, and we need to address some of them before we can wrap anything up.” I folded down my computer screen.

“I’m going to visit Cassandra before Tessa wakes up for our meeting with Calvin.”

“Werjonic is here?” Ralph exclaimed. Dr. Calvin Werjonic is a household name among investigators, especially those who track serial offenders.

“We’re meeting at 10:30.”

“Well, say hi to the old buzzard for me.” Ralph nodded with deep respect. “He’s a good man, that Werjonic. Smartest guy I ever met.” Lien-hua stood. “Pat, I think I’ll come with you to talk with Cassandra. Hopefully, it’ll shed some light on this case before we close things up.”

I had a feeling that closing things up was not on the day’s agenda, but I just stood and said, “Sounds like a plan. Let’s go.”

After all that Cassandra had been through, Lien-hua hadn’t wanted her to see the bruise on her thigh, so she changed into jeans before we left the hotel.

When we arrived at the hospital, Cassandra’s doctors told us that the police hadn’t been able to contact any of Austin Hunter’s relatives, but that she was packing to go and they didn’t want her to leave before someone told her about Austin’s death. A severe-looking nurse standing beside a gurney informed us that she was on her way to the room to tell Cassandra the news right now.

When I was a detective in Milwaukee, I’d had to tell people this kind of news all too often. It’s not something I enjoy, but at least it’s something I have experience with. “No,” I told the nurse.

“I’ll do it. I was there. I know the circumstances surrounding the shooting.”

The doctors agreed, and the nurse looked relieved as she led us to Cassandra’s room.

On the way, Lien-hua touched my shoulder lightly. “Let me tell her the news. I was the last person Austin spoke to. She needs to know he died thinking of her. I’d like to be the one to give her the news. I’m a woman. It’ll be better coming from me.”

Maybe Lien-hua was right. “OK,” I said. “Just let me ask her a couple questions before you tell her.”

A few minutes later we knocked on Cassandra’s door, and when she called for us to enter, I saw that she was already gathering her things together to leave. Maria, her co-worker from the aquarium, was standing beside her and must have brought her some clothes, because an overnight bag lay by the windowsill and Cassandra was wearing jeans, flip-flops, and a beige blouse instead of the red dress. Maria’s face held a mixture of both anxiety and relief. I assumed she was relieved that Cassandra was OK, and probably anxious because Lien-hua and I had shown up.

We introduced ourselves to Cassandra, and as we did, I noted that she was about five-eleven, just as I’d guessed. I asked her how she was doing.

Still distracted with her packing, Cassandra said, “I spent twelve hours chained to the bottom of a tank that was filling with water.”

Her voice was cold and distant, as if she were speaking to us from another place. “I almost drowned. How do you think I’m doing?”

“Cassandra,” Lien-hua said softly. “We were there with you last night. Do you remember us?”

She looked at us closely then, for the first time. “Of course, I

… You broke the tank, didn’t you?”

Lien-hua nodded.

At that, Cassandra let out a heavy breath. “Oh. Thanks. I’m sorry

… I didn’t … I didn’t recognize you at first. I thought you were just a couple more cops. Really, thanks for saving me.”

“You’re welcome,” Lien-hua said.

“I mean it.”

“Cassandra,” I said, “I’m wondering if we could talk with you for a few minutes. We won’t be long, I promise.”

She tossed her hospital gown onto the bed. “I really need to get going.”

“We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important,” I said.

“Maybe later. In a couple days. A week or something.”

“Please,” said Lien-hua. “It’ll be helpful in building a case against your abductors.”

Cassandra hesitated for a moment and then spoke to Maria. “Um, can you go get me a Coke or something? Just give us a couple minutes, OK? Thanks.”

Maria looked as if she were about to say something, but swallowed her concern and stepped quietly past us into the hall. I closed the door behind her.

As soon as Maria was gone, Cassandra said softly, “So, you got him, right?” Her throat constricted, her voice wavered. “I mean, you caught the guy who put me in there, didn’t you?”

“We apprehended a man at the warehouse,” I said. “Yes, he’s in custody now.”

“So, good. You got him. He’s in jail?”

The man we had in custody was innocent until proven guilty, but that’s not what Cassandra needed to hear at the moment. “The police are talking with him today, and we’re in the process of gathering more evidence,” I explained. In light of the news we needed to give her about Austin’s death, I decided to keep my questions focused on her abduction rather than her possible involvement in starting the earlier files. “That man, had you ever seen him before?”

She shook her head.

“And why did you go to the aquarium so early?”

“I’d stopped by to grab some things.” She paused to shake her head. “I guess he must have drugged me. I don’t really remember.

One of the officers told me it was a dart. The guy shot me with a dart. Can you believe that?”

“Did he ever mention any kind of device?”

She thought for a quiet moment. “Yeah, I guess he did talk about something when he was on the phone with some other guy. They were talking about getting it out of a building. I don’t know. Why?

Is it something important? Did you find something?”

“No. We’re still looking into that,” I said. “Do you know what it is?”

She shook her head and Lien-hua asked, “The other man on the phone, do you know who he was? Did you get a name?” She thought for a moment. “I think I heard the guy call him Shay or Dade. Something like that.”

“Shade,” I said.

“Sure. Maybe, I don’t know.”

Time to move into specifics. “Do you think your work on Project Rukh might have anything to do with your abduction? Could they be related?”

She blinked, let her eyes bounce back and forth from me to Lien-hua to me. “How do you know about that?”

“While we were looking for you, we found some references to it in your computer files.”

She cornered her lip between her teeth. “I can’t really talk about that. Copyrights, patents, things like that. But I don’t see how it could be related. Listen, I just want to go see my boyfriend.” She grabbed the overnight bag and glanced at the door, undoubtedly looking for Maria.

“Please,” said Lien-hua. “Can you tell us anything about the project? Anything at all?”

“You’d have to talk to Dr. Osbourne for—” She caught herself.

Never finished her sentence. “I’m sorry. I’ve said too much already.

I could lose my job. I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I just want to get out of here.” She glanced at her watch.

Lien-hua stepped toward the window. “Would you recognize the man who attacked you if you saw him again? Could you pick him out in a lineup?”

Her jaw tensed. “I’d recognize his face anywhere. I’ll never forget it. Never. But I’m not looking at any lineup. I never want to see that face again. I just want to move on with my life.”

I wanted to keep questioning her and explain to her in no uncertain terms that we needed her to identify her abductor and testify against him, but in light of Austin’s death, I knew this wasn’t the time for that. I did have one more question, and, even though I knew it might be a hard one for her to hear, I had to ask it—I had
to find out if she knew about the video her abductors had sent to Austin Hunter. “Cassandra,” I said. “Do you know what the man was doing while you were in the tank?”

“What do you mean? No. He was just waiting for me to die. I saw him come out and check on me a couple times, but otherwise he just left me there alone.” Her voice began to tremble. “I just want to put this whole horrible thing behind me. That’s enough questions.

I’m done now.” Then I heard the door open behind me and noticed that Maria had returned. In her hands, she held a can of Coke and a set of car keys conspicuously dangling from her fingers.

“There’s something else I need to tell you,” Lien-hua said.

“Maybe you should sit down.”

“No. I’m leaving. I was supposed to meet my boyfriend yesterday for breakfast. I need to find him. I need to talk to him. I can’t seem to get him on the phone. Good-bye. Thanks again for helping me last night. I mean it. I just … I don’t want to do this anymore.

It’s too soon.”

Lien-hua and I shared a glance and then I handed Maria a couple dollars. “Could you get something for Agent Jiang and me as well? We’re almost done. It’ll only be a few more minutes.” Then I leaned close to Maria and whispered, “We didn’t say anything about the things you told us at the aquarium. We’re not going to. Don’t worry.” At first she hesitated, but finally she took the money and left for the soft drink machines again.

Cassandra watched her friend exit the room. “What’s going on?”

Lien-hua gently guided Cassandra to sit beside her on the bed.

“You need to know that Austin Hunter burned down a building in order to meet your kidnappers’ demands. Afterward, the police caught up with him.”

“What? They arrested Austin?” Cassandra pulled away from Lien-hua and stood up brusquely. “Why didn’t you tell me! Where is he?” “I’m afraid they didn’t arrest him. The officers thought he was a threat, thought he was going to hurt me.”

“You?” A heavy darkness began to drape over the conversation.

“Why you?”

Lien-hua stayed seated and spoke softly, patiently, like a mother might. “I was talking to him, trying to find out if there was anything he could tell us to help us find you.” Lien-hua paused to find the right words, but there are no right words for telling someone that the most important person in her life is dead. “You have to understand, the police thought my life might be in danger. Austin had a gun in his hand, and he was pointing a knife at me.”

I could see that Cassandra was slowly coming to the inevitable conclusion, slowly grasping what Lien-hua was saying beneath her words. “He’s dead?” Her voice split in half as she spoke. “That’s what you’re telling me, isn’t it? That Austin’s dead?”

Lien-hua answered by standing and enfolding Cassandra in her arms.

Finding out that kind of news is shattering, gut-wrenching. If you’re there with a person when she hears it, you want to comfort her, hold her and tell her that things will be OK, but all the while, deep inside, you know that whatever you say will only come across as hollow and trite. Comfort doesn’t come from words at a time like that. It mostly comes from silence.

I saw a cup of water on a nearby dinner tray and thought of handing it to Cassandra, but realized how ridiculous that would be. That it wouldn’t help anything at all.

She was trembling as Lien-hua and I supported her weight and helped her sit on the hospital bed once again. “He loved you,” Lien-hua said. “Saving you was the only thing that mattered to him in the end. He loved you more than anything else in the world.”

Soft tears began to drop from Cassandra’s eyes. Her chin quivered. “He did this.” Lien-hua sat beside her, an arm around her shoulder. “The one who took me,” she continued. “It’s his fault. I
want him dead.” And then her voice grew in pain and volume. “I want him dead.” Her shrieking lament filled the room. “I want him dead. I want him dead!”

She repeated her sentence over and over, sending the words reverberating off the bright walls of the hospital room as Lien-hua held her tenderly and let her weep and wail and tremble against her shoulder.

Lien-hua and I waited until two of the hospital’s counselors arrived and Maria returned to the room, then, with the three of them there to console her, Lien-hua closed the door and we stepped into the hallway.

I think Lien-hua would have liked to stay and help, but Cassandra needed to work though her grief with people who’d be around to help her long-term, not with a couple of federal agents who’d be flying out later in the week.

As we drove back to the hotel, the meeting with Cassandra weighed on me, but I reminded myself that she was getting the help she needed and there wasn’t anything more Lien-hua and I could do for her. Part of living is acknowledging people’s pain and grief, but not letting it take over your heart. Though it’s always nighttime in the depths, the waves still reflect the day.

Life is both eerie and beautiful.

It’s both.

By the end of the drive, I’d started to put the pain into perspective.

I packaged up the moments I’d spent with Cassandra and set them aside so that I could deal with them one by one when the time was right. I made a quick call to Ralph asking if he’d heard any more about Victor Drake and his possible connection to the abduction, but he hadn’t. He promised he’d check on it though, and get back to me after his meeting with Margaret.

Then, after dropping off Lien-hua at the FBI field office, I picked up Tessa from the hotel to introduce her to Dr. Calvin Werjonic.