Authors: Riley Barton
Nothing happened.
The heart monitor continued to blare, while beneath his hands Luna’s warm body grew steadily colder. Time was running out.
He ran to one of the sick bay’s medical lockers and yanked it open. His eyes sifted furiously through the different vials and bottles until he found what he was looking for: a small clear bottle marked
adrenaline
.
He grabbed the bottle and a long hypodermic needle from the case, sending several other containers and pieces of equipment crashing to the floor.
“Master Mark, what do you think you’re doing?” Ed exclaimed, as Mark ran back to Luna’s side. “I haven’t had time to finish my analysis yet! If you inject that into her, it may have dire consequences!”
“I don’t have a choice!” Mark replied hotly, filling the syringe with a massive dose of the powerful hormone. He removed the needle from the vial and glanced down at Luna’s pale face and her wide lifeless eyes.
“I’m sorry, Luna,” he muttered under his breath. He then pulled her shirt aside and plunged the needle into her chest, injecting its contents directly into her heart.
He watched as the last drops of adrenaline drained from the syringe then carefully removed the needle and set it on the blanket beside her and waited.
Ten seconds passed. Then fifteen.
He pulled the folds of her clothing over her exposed torso and glanced up at the bio monitor and then at her face. She still looked like a corpse.
He choked, swallowing the lump forming in his throat as the memories of his mother’s death rushed back to him.
Come on. Come on. …
All at once a piercing beep cut the silence, then another, and another.
He released the breath he had been holding and slumped down onto his knees, his gaze fixed on the heart monitor. He Watched intently as Luna’s vitals began to grow stronger.
“Ed,” he said at last, his voice no more than a whisper, “what’s the status on the fungus?”
“It is hard to say, Master Mark. After all, it is still very early in the procedure.”
“Give me a rough guess.”
“All initial bio scans are optimistic.” Ed replied after a brief pause. “It would appear the cure is indeed effective. Though I recommend waiting for more definitive results.”
Mark ran his hands through his hair then righted the stool and sat down.
“Thanks, Ed. Keep me posted if anything changes.”
He maintained his silent vigil all that night and well into the next morning, never once leaving Luna’s bedside. The only interruption came when Ed informed him that the passing storm had indeed caused the water level to rise, allowing them free passage once more.
Upon hearing this, Mark instructed the AI to lay in a course for the nearest settlement at maximum speed.
“I want to get this ship back to land as soon as possible in case anything else happens,” he said.
He remained at Luna’s bedside until hunger and fatigue at last got the better of him. He had Ed perform one last bio scan to make sure Luna was stable then headed for the galley. Even though the worst appeared to be over, Luna still had a long road ahead of her. He only hoped she had the strength for it.
Chapter 39
Keith inhaled deeply, steadied himself, and then pushed the comm button next to Bridget’s apartment door.
“Miss Chavé?” he said, clearing his throat, “it’s me, Agent Tagawa.”
Her squeal of excitement was audible even through the heavy door, and Keith winced, fighting the urge to turn and run. A split second later the door flew open and she rushed him, wrapping her arms around his waist before he even had time to react.
“Keith! I was so worried! What took you so long? Your message said 7 PM. It’s five after!” she said, pressing her face against his torso.
“Traffic,” he grunted, and she pushed herself back.
She paused for a moment, scrutinizing his face in what he guessed was an attempt to discern whether he was telling the truth. Then she shrugged and cleared her throat. “Oh. Traffic. … Right.” A long awkward pause followed, which Bridget eventually broke.
“Um … well, now that you’re here,” she stammered, “won’t you come in and make yourself at home? I mean, like, mi casa es su casa, and all that.”
The decor in the apartment was every bit as gaudy as Bridget: Heavy curtains decorated with red and gold flowers covered the living room windows and blocked out the light from the city. This combined with the brightly colored rugs and throw pillows scattered across the couch made Keith’s head spin—or it could have been the combination of perfume and incense that permeated the flat. He couldn’t be sure.
Doing his best to ignore the smells and colors assaulting his senses, Keith made his way to the couch and sat down, followed by Bridget. She sat down so close to him that she pinned the edge of his pant leg beneath her.
He scooted over a little more, trying to be subtle as he jerked his leg free.
“Miss Chavé, there are some things I need to ask you ... ”
She smiled widely and snaked her arms around his shoulders, inching her face toward his. “Oh, really? Ask away.”
“Miss Chavé,” he said, failing to keep his voice from cracking as he pulled back as far as he could, “I think you misunderstand why I’m here!”
Much to his relief, this response caused her a moment’s pause, and she sat back, eyeing him suspiciously.
“How so?”
“I’m
here
,” he replied, adjusting his tie, which had become horribly askew, “because I need to talk to you about Miss McKelly’s disappearance. According to our investigators, you were one of the last people she had contact with.”
Bridget crossed her arms over her chest and moved to the far end of the couch, where she sulked in silence for several minutes.
Finally she began to talk. Bridget related every miniscule detail of her day—right up to the last call she’d placed to Luna.
Once it became apparent that she’d told him everything she knew, Keith ended the recording and stood up.
“Thank you for your help, Miss Chavé.”
“Yeah, no problem,.” she replied, and then she added, “do you think you’ll be able to catch the guys who did this?”
She sounded serious.
Keith was astounded. She was
never
serious.
He turned and met her gaze.
“Hopefully. If we’re lucky.”
She nodded, “You’ll let me know if anything changes, won’t you?”
“I can’t make any promises, Miss Chavé.”
He reached for the doorknob—intending to let himself out. But Bridget intercepted his hand before he could.
Immediately he began to panic. Quickly he formulated a verbal plan of escape and was just about to implement it when he was cut short by Bridget’s soft voice.
“You … you don’t really like me, do you, Keith?”
He was completely taken aback. He had expected her to ask questions, of course. He’d even rehearsed nearly every conceivable answer to the obvious ones. But this? This was the one thing he had
never
expected her to say.
His brow furrowed, and he stared at his shoes, weighing the consequences of his words as he worked out his reply.
He knew that Bridget was definitely unstable. And he knew that one wrong word could very well cause the house-of-cards that was her psyche to come crashing down. Resulting in—who knew what?
Having at last chosen what he hoped would be the right response, Keith looked up and saw that she had already begun to cry. He
hadn’t
wanted to hurt her, but it appeared that was exactly what he’d done.
Cautiously, he said, “It’s not that I don’t like you, Bridget. You’re a beautiful woman with a … great personality.” He cringed inwardly and then looked her squarely in the eye, hoping that what he said next wouldn’t cause her to have a psychotic breakdown. “But I don’t feel that you really
know
who you are. If that makes sense.”
She swallowed, her lip began to quiver, and for a moment he considered ending the conversation right then and there. In the end, however, he decided it was better to get things over before they became even more complicated, so he continued.
“There’s someone really wonderful trapped inside you,” he said, “but until she stops hiding behind this façade you’ve put up, no one will ever have a chance to meet her.”
She sobbed, making him feel even more terrible.
“I’m sorry, Bridget. That’s … just how it is.” He said, and then he stepped outside before either of them could say anything else.
As the door closed behind him, he silently hoped that he had done the right thing. At the very least, he figured that he’d taken care of his stalker problem once and for all. Yet, on the other hand, he found himself feeling … guilty.
“Mac, call the lieutenant. Tell him I have the final case report ready.”
“Yes, sir. Right away.”
Chapter 40
Manning’s eyes flitted wearily across the monitor displaying the accumulated results of the various debriefing assignments. Doctoring all the data was proving harder than he had originally thought. Already he’d spent the greater part of the evening sequestered in one of the security office’s basement router stations, poring over the classified documents.
He had made sure that everyone upstairs thought he’d clocked out for the day so he could finish his work without disturbance. As he stared at the screen, his all-purpose device began vibrating in his pocket.
With his eyes still scanning the data stream, he reached for his headset and tucked it over his ear. “Agent Manning.”
“Lieutenant, this is Agent Tagawa. I’ve just finished the Chavé interview. Do you want me to send it to you now?”
“Yeah. Sure. Transmit it to my personal terminal.”
“Will do. You should be receiving it … now.”
Manning glanced over at the laptop spliced into the mainframe as Keith’s data file began to download. Once the initial transfer was complete, he typed in a few quick commands and forwarded the data to the main case file, along with all the other records.
“All right, I’ve got it, Tagawa. Thanks.”
There was a pause. “Sir—if I may ask—does it look like we’re getting anywhere with this?”
“You know I don’t have access to the main case file, Tagawa,” Manning lied, glancing up at the holo-screen out of the corner of his eye.
“I know that, sir. I was just wondering if you’ve come across anything useful in our investigation?”
Manning sighed and massaged his temple, rising from his chair. Keith Tagawa sure was persistent.
“Not yet. We really don’t have that much info to go on. But I’m sure once all the pieces come together we’ll—”
“Lieutenant Manning? What are you doing here?”
Pulling out his gun, Manning spun to face the speaker and stared into the bewildered face of Agent Rosa Hernandez.
“Lieutenant?” Keith asked. “Are you there?”
“Yeah, I’m here. Just another call coming in. I’ll have to get back to you.”
“Understood, sir. Let me know if anything changes.”
Manning waited until Keith hung up and then, with a quick wave of his gun, motioned for Rosa to move. He was careful to stay well out of her reach.
“Keep your hands where I can see them and move over here. Nice and slow.”
“What are you
doing?
” she asked accusingly, raising her hands from her side.
“You first,” he said coldly, leveling his gun.
“I was going to see why our systems are being so sluggish,” she replied eyeing Manning’s computer screens, “but it looks like I found the problem.”
“Looks like it.”
Before she could say any more, he squeezed the trigger. A moment later Agent Hernandez lay dead on the floor.
Manning pulled Rosa’s sidearm from its holster and placed it in her lifeless hand, then he placed a call to Mr. Edgard.
“What is it, Manning?”
“Something’s come up, sir. Agent Hernandez walked in on me. I had to eliminate her.”
Edgard swore under his breath, “Was that really necessary?”
“Yes, sir. It was. She’d seen too much.”
“Well, I trust you know how to clean up your own mess?”
“Yes, sir,” Manning replied. “Everyone already thinks Swamper agents within Unitech were responsible for what happened to Miss McKelly. When I’m done, it’ll look like Hernandez was just another sleeper agent.”
“Hmm. Good work.” Edgard said, obviously pleased.
“Sir, there is a bit of a snag ... ” Manning continued. “Landers is suspicious. I’ve been doing my best to hinder the Agency’s investigation, but there’s still a lot of intel in the mainframe. They’re getting close to figuring out the truth.”
Edgard was silent for a moment then asked, “Can’t you alter the files?”
“I have been, sir. But I can only do so much. As long as Landers keeps up this investigation, there’s a chance that someone
will eventually put two and two together.”
“What are you suggesting, Manning?”
Manning smiled slightly. It was time to make his move.
“I’m suggesting that you eliminate Chief Landers, sir.”
“Eliminate the chief of Unitech Security? Are you crazy? That man has been an agent longer than you’ve been alive! Killing him will draw
too much attention!”
“Not if you replace him with a man whose loyalty is to you, sir.”
“You, you mean?”
“Just making a suggestion, sir.” Manning said, unplugging his computer from the main terminal. “If you put me in charge of the Agency, I could personally guarantee that
no one
will be able to touch you. Ever. Think about it.”
A long pause followed.
Finally, Edgard spoke. “I trust you’ve already thought up a plan to take care of Landers?”
“I have. But I’ll need unrestricted access to Alex’s data core to make it work.”
“You’ll have it. Just answer me this: What exactly is
this plan you’ve cooked up?”
“If we want Landers to take the bait it has to be believable. As such, the fewer people who know about it, the better.”
“So I take it that means you’re not going to tell me.”
“Yes, sir,” said Manning, making his way toward the door. “Just be ready. You’ll know what to do when the time is right.”
“And what if Landers catches on? What then?”