Pell looked at the two agents who sat stone-faced. Between their training at Quantico and being stationed in the office where it had all gone down, they had undoubtedly heard the story multiple times and from different perspectives. It would be interesting to hear their unfiltered take on the Allen Jenkins affair but that was an impossibility here and now or, probably ever, given their relationship with Carl.
Carl was about to say something when Chris interrupted, “We’re not here to discuss the past and Allen Jenkins. We’ve got a serious issue on our hands here and we need to move fast and, like it or not, if we want to stop these people we’re going to have to work together.”
The senior FBI agent finally acknowledged Chris with a cool stare. Pell kicked him under the table. Carl swiveled his chair square to Chris and put his manicured hands behind his male pattern baldness inflicted head. “Chris, was it?”
He nodded.
“Listen to me, Chris, and listen closely. This is an FBI office, and I’m the Special Agent in Charge of this office. I don’t want to hear a peep from you unless I ask you a question. I’ll debrief Agent Pelletier, and you’re going to sit there nice and quiet while I do it. Do you understand?”
Chris glared at him and then nodded. The room was silent for a moment until Carl said, “I read the IR, Pell. It sounds light. Why don’t you take it from the beginning?”
Pell shot Chris a quick glance, before starting in on their bizarre story. “It appears that a group of people have developed a virus that will change the face of the planet as we know it. I know it sounds far-fetched, but after some investigating, I’m convinced that what Chris told me is true and here’s why.”
Carl and his men sat stone-faced through the entire story. Pell would periodically have Chris either confirm or expand on something. Just after 5 pm, Pell finished.
Carl wore a bemused expression that Chris recognized as the same one Pell had when he first told him what he knew. Maybe they taught that look at Quantico – the official FBI raised eyebrow, pursed lips look – Facial Expressions 101.
“You weren’t kidding when you said that it was far-fetched,” Carl said finally. He looked at his agents who each shrugged in turn. “You’d think that we’d at least have heard some rumors or something, anything. Especially with all of the money we’ve dumped around the borders since 9/11, it’s hard to believe we haven’t picked up something. Someone would have made a mistake. They always do. Their blind ideology always makes them foolish.”
“Maybe so,” Pell replied, “But they’re a small, dedicated, tight-knit group, and one of them did break out – David Rose. That’s why we’re here now.”
“I have a theory about the Ngami thing –” Chris said.
Pell kicked him under the table, hard. “Don’t even waste their time with that.”
“But I thought—”
“No, Chris, that’s not relevant here and now,” Pell shifted in his seat uncomfortably and kicked Chris hard again.
Chris shrugged, not understanding what Pell was doing. Let him do things his way, for now.
“I’ll tell you what, Pell,” Carl said. “Let us do some of our own research tonight and call me in the morning. Unless we can dig up something more on our own about this, I’m going to tell you to drop it.”
“Drop it!” Pell screamed. “After what I just told you?”
“You just told me about some different events that may or may not be related. You don’t even know if this virus exists or not. You’re basing everything on Chris’ word and some unconnected evidence. In fact, it seems you could be trying to make the evidence you do have fit the story. My bet would be that this David Rose, for whatever reason, told you a lie.”
“Who would make up a complicated lie like this on his death bed – to a total stranger no less?” Chris asked.
Carl shook his skin-capped head and said, “I don’t know, but think about it. I’m not a scientist, but I know that developing a virus like the one you’ve just described isn’t simple. It’s a scientific undertaking that’s going to take years and money – lots of money. There are undoubtedly companies across the river in Cambridge trying to do conceptually the same thing, except they’ve had corporate backing and some of the brightest minds in the world at their disposal and still haven’t been successful. So why and how would a bunch of hillbillies in the middle of nowhere in northern Maine be able to pull this off? I need some time to look into this.”
Carl was an extremely bright man – a megalomaniac personality, but definitely very smart. He had detached from their discussion and stared off into the distance, tapping one skinny finger against his weak chin. Chris watched him mentally compile and sort through the information. Spawning ‘what ifs’, trying to make sense of it.
Carl rose and without looking directly at either of them said, “Call me in the morning.”
With that, he and his two shadows walked out of the room, leaving them alone.
“Damn,” Pell muttered.
“What’s the matter? The guy just wants to look into it himself.”
“You don’t get it. Carl’s only motivation is his career. He doesn’t care about anything but that. I’m telling you right now that when we talk to him in the morning, he’s going to tell us we’re crazy, and I should go back up to Bangor. Where I belong.”
“Maybe not.”
Pell snorted and said, “Just watch.”
“Why did you stop me telling them about my theory on Ngami?” Chris asked.
“I’ll tell you when we’re out of here,” Pell said “Where to now?”
Chris rose. “Let’s get out of here. You can stay at my house tonight. I’ll drive,” Pell wouldn’t be able to handle a Boston rush hour. Chris enjoyed Boston traffic. It was a game of nerves – whoever had the bigger balls made the best time.
Chris glanced across the seat at Pell as he drove through South Boston and into Quincy. He was quiet, his complexion ashen – most likely reminiscing about his career-limiting decision to kill Allen Jenkins.
“How you feeling?” Chris asked.
“Peachy.”
“Giving up booze is the best thing you’ve ever done for yourself.”
“It feels like it.”
“When we get to my house, I’ll have Karen make us something good for dinner – something to take the bite off.”
“We almost there?”
“It’s right around the corner.”
His house was nestled in a moderately upscale subdivision. All of the houses were on the small side and had a similar Cape Cod style. Theirs was perfect for the two of them, but if they ever had kids, it would get small real fast. As they pulled into the driveway, he saw Karen’s Volvo in the garage, and a shiny new pickup in the driveway. She would be surprised to see him.
“I wonder who’s truck that is,” he said as they climbed out and walked up the front steps.
To his surprise nobody was in the living room.
“Maybe she’s out,” Chris said. “She wasn’t expecting me until Sunday.”
“Can I get a drink of water?” Pell asked.
“Sure, the kitchen’s down that hall. Help yourself.”
Pell left the room and headed for the kitchen. Chris followed until he got to the stairs that led up to the second floor. He took the steps two at a time and went straight to their bedroom. He was getting a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. The door was partially closed and he pushed it open.
Karen was naked, climbing out of bed. A man he had never seen before sat up in his bed. Chris screamed. Not a word, just an animalistic cry. For a split second, he froze in shock but that was rapidly replaced by a rage unlike anything he had ever felt. It tore through his body as time seemed to slow down, giving him the unwanted opportunity to study the scene in front of him. Karen’s mouth moved but he heard no sounds. The man had a large scar on his shoulder and a number of moles across his chest but he was in good shape – lean, hard, ripped. Was that why she had done it?