We All Fall Down (12 page)

CHAPTER 25

“Homeland wants to lock me up.”

I was sitting in a sandwich shop two blocks from my apartment. The waitress brought me a coffee. I poured in some cream and sugar. Rachel Swenson built her wall of silence at the other end of the line.

“Did you hear me, Rach?”

“I heard you. They must have a good reason.”

“I need you to do something. Actually, it’s a couple of things. You’re gonna need to do them right now. And you’re gonna need to pack a bag.”

I took a sip of coffee and winced at what was pouring out of the receiver. When she’d finished, I told Rachel my plan.

A little over an hour later, I parked on my street in a car I’d grabbed from a Rent-A-Wreck on Irving Park. The rain had stopped as quickly as it started. The promise of more hung heavy in the air. Up the block, a couple of federal agents sat in front of my building in a black sedan. Subtle fellas, these guys.

One of them had just returned from a snack run to Potbelly’s Subs when Rachel’s Audi pulled to the curb. I wasn’t sure if they didn’t know who she was or just hadn’t seen a woman in a while, but there were a lot of napkins and wax paper flying as she stepped out of her car. Rachel took her time, letting herself into my building with her set of keys. My guys were on their cell phones now, shaking their heads and talking to their pals downtown. At worst, they’d take a picture and download it to someone who would recognize Rachel as my friend and, more important, as a sitting federal judge. The phone buzzed on the seat next to me. Rachel’s number flashed on the screen.

“I’m inside.”

“Thanks.”

“Pup’s happy to see me.”

“Great.”

“Anything else you need?”

“Just what I told you.”

“I’m not leaving town, Michael.”

“If you wait even another hour, it might not be so easy.”

“What is this about?”

“You probably have a pretty good idea.”

No response.

“Do you trust me, Rach?”

“Yes.”

“Get Mags and get out of the city.”

“I saw the car out front.”

“There’s another guy in the alley watching my back door.”

“Are they waiting for you?”

“Yes. I don’t think they’ll bother you—at least not right now. If they do, just tell them we arranged last week for you to pick up the dog.”

“And I don’t know where you are?”

“You won’t. Now go. And take care of the pup.”

Rachel cut the line. She wasn’t happy, but I didn’t really give a damn. Getting her out of town might be overkill. I didn’t give a damn about that either. A minute later, the judge walked out of my building, Maggie on a leash and wagging her tail. I watched the feds. They watched Rachel but sat tight. She got in her car and left. I pulled around the block and parked. I slipped on a Cubs hat I’d bought at a Walgreens and got out.

My building is a classic Chicago six-flat, with a single entrance and three units running off either side of the center staircase. The back of the building has two sets of stairs. The one on the north services my apartment and dumps out into the alley that was currently inhabited by a fed eating a sub in his car. The other empties onto a quiet Lakeview street called Cornelia Avenue.

I walked down Cornelia, pushed open a black iron gate, and took a look. From where I stood, the guy in the alley couldn’t see me. Halfway up the stairs, he wouldn’t miss me. If he was paying attention, that is. I didn’t have time to think about any of that, which is sometimes a good thing. I pulled the hat down low, hiked up the stairs and found the key my neighbor kept to his apartment under a smiling stone Buddha. Then I opened his back door and stepped inside.

My neighbor was a Kenyon music grad, soon-to-be rock star, and current bike messenger named Mikey Sanders. I’d knocked on his door one day because I thought he was doing strange things to his cat. Mikey explained that was music I was hearing. Then he offered me a beer and introduced me to
Andrew Bird’s Bowl of Fire.
Today, the apartment was quiet. The cat drifted out of the shadows and rubbed against my ankles. I crept down a short hallway to Mikey’s front door and looked through the peephole at an empty stairwell. I cracked the door, sneaked across the stairwell, and let myself into my apartment. The only sound came from a clock ticking in the kitchen. I stayed close to the wall and away from the front windows until I got to the back of the apartment. Here the shades were pulled tight; the room, dark. I took out a small flashlight, sat down at my desk, and reached for a bottom drawer full of papers. I’d gotten the thing halfway open when I felt the blade at my throat and a voice I didn’t expect sitting just inside my ear.

CHAPTER 26

“You got a nice dog, Kelly.”

Danielson kept the knife tight against my skin as he took a seat and switched on the desk lamp.

“How’d you get into my apartment?” I said.

“I almost grabbed your girlfriend. Thought she was you, but the perfume gave it away. You gonna be quiet?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“They still out there?”

“Sure.”

Before I could move, a gun had replaced the blade in his hands. It was black, with a black suppressor attached.

“You don’t look so good, Danielson.”

His skin looked stretched under the pale light. His hair was heavy with grease, and his eyes were a little too bright for their own good.

“What’s going on out there?” he said.

“What do you know?”

“Give me your gun.”

I pulled my piece off my hip. Danielson took it and got up from his chair.

“Keep your hands on the desk.”

I did. The Homeland Security agent drifted into the shadows and returned a moment later.

“I’ve been keeping up to date.” Danielson put his laptop down between us. Then he pulled out a set of cuffs. “I can’t work this and keep an eye on you.”

I held out my hands. Danielson cuffed me and pocketed the keys. “I got most of the stuff they’ve been streaming to DC about the release.”

“They haven’t shut you out yet?”

Danielson sharpened his cheekbones into a grin, teeth shining like a couple rows of tombstones. “I put a keystroke device on one of their laptops. Access codes change every hour, but this program sweeps them up automatically, so I’m always in the loop.”

“Good for you. What happened yesterday?”

Danielson cocked his head and stopped typing. “So you don’t think I intentionally released a bioweapon into the subway?”

“You’re not very bright, and you’re a patriot. That’s a dangerous enough combination.”

“Fuck you, Kelly.”

“What happened?”

Danielson was reading a screen of text and whistled. “Going all-out.”

“Who?”

“Who do you think? They just put up an internal map of potential quarantine zones. Gonna separate Oak Park from the West Side. Protect the white folks. Smart.” Danielson turned the laptop around so I could see. “They won’t go public until the troops are in place.”

“Troops?”

“National Guard. Sprinkled in with Chicago’s finest. They’re all gonna be dressed up in NBC suits so it won’t make a damn bit of difference.”

He flipped the screen around again and continued scrolling through pages of text. “Gonna call it ‘convenience sheltering.’ Got a nice ring to it, no? But the real question is why.”

“You said it yourself. There’s been a release.”

“Yes, but if it’s anthrax, there’s no real danger of person-to-person transmission.” Danielson snapped his laptop shut. “So why not just evacuate? Why the quarantine?”

“I want to know about the subway.”

Danielson checked his watch and picked up his gun. “You’re right. We don’t have a lot of time.”

I wondered for a moment if he wasn’t just going to put a bullet in me and be done with it. Instead, he kept on talking.

“You already know about Katherine Lawson. For the record, that was a sanctioned thing. She knew about the lightbulbs being lifted from Detrick. Was snooping around the subway trying to find them. I tried to warn her off.”

“Then you popped her twice in the head with a twenty-two.”

“Me? No. Like I said, it came from Washington.”

“Then what?”

“I knew both bulbs were harmless. Had rock-solid confirmation on that.”

“Tell that to the corpses they’re collecting down at Cook County.”

“The bulbs were harmless, Kelly. After Lawson, Washington ordered me to pull them out of the subway and turn them over to Brazile’s lab for disposal.”

“So?”

“So I got cute. Went off the playbook and sat on things for a couple of weeks.”

“And Brazile went along.”

“She trusted me.”

“Her mistake. What were you waiting on?”

“I fucked up.”

“How?”

“I had a line on some bad guys. A possible sleeper cell in Chicago, looking to buy materials.”

“For an attack?”

Danielson shrugged. “It was sketchy. Bio, maybe chemical. Maybe a load of bullshit. Anyway, we leaked information about Lawson’s death. Let them believe the bulbs were alive and still in place underground. Be just the thing guys like that cream over. I figured I’d give it a week or two, see if they made some inquiries. The home run would have been if they took a shot at the subway themselves.”

“And you were certain the bulbs were harmless?”

“Before I set up the sting, I went down into the subway myself.” Danielson gestured back into the shadows. “Detrick gave us an ultraviolet light. When you hit the bulbs with it, there’s an ID marker that glows. Took me maybe an hour to find both bulbs. I pulled one and gave it to CDA for testing. Left the other one where it was.”

“And?”

“Stuff was irradiated. Harmless. Hundred percent.”

I sat back in my chair and thought things through. Maybe Danielson was lying, but I couldn’t figure why. Or why he was in my apartment in the first place.

“If the bulbs are a red herring, what’s really going on?”

“Now you’re asking the right questions.” Danielson waved the barrel of his gun in my face and belched lightly. I got the first whiff of what might have been gin. “What really happened? If you know the game, it’s simple.”

“And you know the game?”

“Not well enough, apparently. The bad guys must have gotten wind of my little sting and turned it around. Used the lightbulbs as cover to release their own pathogen. Only they were using the real thing.”

“You think it was the guys you targeted in the sting?”

“Not likely.”

“How do you know?”

Danielson cracked his teeth together in a second graveyard grin. “Fourth one told me.”

“The fourth one?”

“Tracked them down around five this morning. Fourth watched the first three die. After that he told me everything I wanted to know.”

“Then joined his buddies in Nirvana?”

“No one’s crying. Fact is, they had nothing to do with this. Of course, there are plenty of other assholes out there.”

“Why use the lightbulbs as a cover? And if it was a terrorist group, why haven’t they gone public? Taken all the credit. Made some demands or something.”

Danielson shook his head at yet another stupid question. “Whoever decides to use a bioweapon isn’t likely to go public. Too much heat from their own people. In fact, they’ll run from it.”

“Then what’s the point?”

“Blackmail. Today’s textbook. Limited release. Maybe five hundred, a thousand people dead in Chicago. We shake our fists, bomb the shit out of a few more countries, and erect memorials. The world feels our pain, but mostly worries who’s next. Meanwhile, the terrorists stay quiet. Somewhere down the road, they tap us on the shoulder. Tell us they got another load of something and are gonna use it. Chicago again. New York, LA. We believe they’ll use it because the fuckers already have. So we cave. Pandora goes back in her box. Bad guys get what they want. And no one in DC has to look bad. That’s how bioweapons really work. At least, the politics of it.”

“So this is the first shot?”

“Could be.”

“And what are we supposed to do?”

“You and me?” Danielson looked around the room in case I might have been referring to someone else.

“Yes, Danielson. What do we do?”

“We die, Kelly. Like everybody else. Only quicker.”

CHAPTER 27

“I’m not interested in dying,” I said.

“Who is? Unfortunately, it’s not something that’s up for debate. The pathogen’s going to take its pound of flesh. Then the real fun starts. Washington will go all-out to paint this as a terrorist attack. Put a lid on anything, and anyone, connected to Detrick and the lightbulb angle.”

“That’s you and me?”

“When it comes to something like this, people fall into two categories. Either they can be contained, or they’re killed. I don’t have to tell you which category we fall into.”

“So you just sit around and wait for them to show up?”

“A man always has options. Especially in how he dies.”

“You want to kill yourself, go ahead. Why pull me in?”

“I received some information this morning  … ”

“From who?”

“Doesn’t matter. The sting I was running had been compromised.”

“You already knew that.”

“Whoever dropped me the information gave me this as well.”

Danielson pushed a folded piece of paper across the desk. “It’s not much. And I doubt it will help.”

“Why don’t you run it down?”

“I told you. I had my chance. Now people are dead. And someone has to answer.”

I looked at the folded-up slip of paper. “But you think I’ll give it a try?”

Danielson twitched pale fingers in the half-light. Silence twisted itself around us like a shroud. He lifted his gun to my head, before settling on my heart.

“Think of it as a last good act.”

The man from Homeland Security tilted forward and wrapped his lips carefully around the black barrel. Then he leaned back in his chair and stared at me without blinking. Right up until the moment he pulled the trigger.

CHAPTER 28

The bullet did its job. Danielson lay dead at my feet.

I rolled the body over and managed to get the keys for the cuffs out of his pocket. I’d just gotten myself free when my cell phone buzzed. It was Ellen Brazile. And she was whispering.

“You need to get out of there.”

“Where?”

“They know you’re in your apartment.”

I crept to the front windows and peeked through a shade. The sedan was still there, but empty. Down the block were two more government-looking cars, also empty.

“How long?”

“They were going to wait for you to come out, but I think they’re going in. Maybe five minutes. Maybe less. It’s pretty crazy here.”

“How did they find me?”

“I don’t know. Danielson’s dirty.”

“Why do you say that?”

“They found money in an offshore account. He’s probably left the country by now.”

I looked down at the pool of blood widening under the agent’s head. “Probably.”

“They found other things, Michael.”

“What other things?”

“I don’t know. Molly and I don’t believe it, but you’ve got to get out of there.”

“Stay on your cell. I’ll call you later.”

I flipped my phone shut and took another look out the window. The cars were still empty. I sneaked around to the kitchen for a peek out back. There were two more cars and three agents in the alley. Ellen was right. Time to move.

I packed up Danielson’s laptop. Then I crept across the hallway and back into my neighbor’s apartment. I was halfway to the kitchen when Mikey Sanders came out of the bathroom in his boxers.

“Motherfucker.” Mikey swung what looked like a nine iron, missing my head by a good bit and crashing to the floor. I wrestled the club away and slipped a hand across his mouth.

“Mikey, it’s me.” I waited for him to settle. Then I took my hand off his mouth.

“Kelly. I was on the can. Heard a noise in the hall.”

“Were you in here earlier?”

“When?”

“Half an hour ago?”

“I was sleeping. How did you get in?”

“Long story. Listen, you know a little bit about what I do?”

“I know you carry a gun and used to be a cop.”

“Right. I got some bad guys downstairs. Gonna be up here in a few minutes.”

Mikey’s eyes flew down the hall to his front door.

“I don’t think they’ll be coming in here,” I said. “Not without a warrant, anyway.”

“Are they cops?”

“More like the feds.” I waited, knew this was the dicey part.

“Fuck ’em,” Mikey said. “What do you need?”

I smiled. “How would you like to get out of town for a few days?”

My neighbor shrugged. “Love to. No ride.”

I held up the keys to my rental. Then I laid out my plan for getting us both out of the building.