The Killer Within (3 page)

Authors: Jason Kahn

Two days later, he got the call he had been expecting. Frank sat in Lieutenant Burke’s office, trying not to fidget. He’d been on pins and needles ever since the bust, wondering, hoping.

“I just got off the phone with Judge Browers,” Burke said. “He wants to see you in his office.” Frank fought to contain himself. “Why?” he asked. The lieutenant frowned. “Why the hell do you think, Frank? Now don’t go doing something stupid like pissing him off, because I don’t want to have to deal with your sorry ass anymore. You’re his problem now.” Frank couldn’t help but grin. “Yes, sir, thank you, sir.” Frank didn’t notice the sober look on the lieutenant’s face as he left.

Vera smiled when Frank told her the news. She’d still been edgy the past few days. Frank hoped her funk over the accountant shooting would pass.

“Congratulations, Frank,” she said in a quiet voice. “Good luck.”

Frank grabbed his things and drove downtown to the Federal Courthouse building. The whole way over he kept thinking about what being on the task force would mean, better pay, a chance to make a real
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difference, a nicer apartment his kids could stay at, a better life. He smiled; everything was working out.

His head was still spinning as he walked up the marble steps of the courthouse. The building was impressive, thick columns, a massive statue of a figure holding the scales of justice. The place had weight. It took half an hour for Frank to make his way through all the layers of security. He surrendered his weapon, saying hello to a few of the courthouse guards he knew.

He was about to ascend the stairway to the judges’

private chambers when a security guard Frank didn’t recognize came out of a restroom around the corner.

The man was in a hurry. He brushed against Frank, bumping him as he passed.

“Excuse me,” the guard said, nodding as he hurried on his way.

“Not at all,” Frank replied automatically. He took the steps two at a time, and in short order he was sitting in the office of Judge William Browers. The man had a mane of silver hair and a face that looked like it was cut from a mountain side. He was wearing his judicial robes, which made him even more intimidating. Frank tried not to squirm in his seat.

“Detective Arnold,” Judge Browers said. His voice was like the soft rumble of distant thunder. “Thank you for coming down here.”

Frank nodded, not trusting himself to say anything.

“I was very impressed with your recent arrest, it made quite a splash.”

“Thank you, your honor,” Frank said.

“I’d love to hear how you worked it. Would you mind? Call it professional curiosity.” Hell no, Frank didn’t mind. He gave him the whole rundown, the rumors he’d been hearing, the information he got from Richie, the attempt on his life, all of it.“That’s good work, son,” Judge Browers said.

“You’ve done your city a real service. I could use a man like you on my task force. Let me tell you a little about what we do…”

They were the words Frank had longed to hear,
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words that would change his future, but he was no longer listening. The judge’s voice seemed to recede into the distance, and Frank felt a warm prickliness sweep across his scalp. His face felt flushed, and it was like his head was filled with cotton. He tried to speak but his mouth wouldn’t move. In a panic, Frank realized he couldn’t move at all. Then, as if someone else was controlling his body, Frank felt his hand move into his left pocket, curl itself around the handle of a gun he had not known was there.

In a flash it all became clear in his mind, little details from the past several days. The accountant had said Frank’s name and drawn his gun slowly. What kind of an assassin says their victim’s name? The hit must’ve been a fake, meant to convince him he was on the right track. And at the Herald building, Arturo only had enough men for a token resistance, nowhere near enough to guard a major shipment. And then that business about Hector setting Arturo up?

With horrifying clarity, Frank understood. It had all been a set up, the information, the fake hit, the bust at the Herald building, the guy in the uniform who’d just planted the piece on him in the hall, all arranged for one reason – to get Frank in this room before Judge Browers. Hector had given him a hero’s status, sacrificed some of his own men and even had Frank take care of Arturo, a thorn in his side. All to get Frank close to the judge, because without him, the task force would fall apart. The judge was the real target –

which meant Frank had been a sleeper all along.

While Judge Browers droned on about the duties of the task force, Frank struggled to warn him, but it was useless. His vision constricted until all he saw was Judge Browers at the end of a dark tunnel. Helpless, Frank pulled the gun out of his pocket. All he could do was scream in silence.

Frank raised the gun. Judge Browers stopped talking, he stared at Frank, solemn-faced. As if from a great distance, Frank heard a commotion behind him.

Doors slammed open, men shouted. Someone knocked his chair over, wrestling him to the floor. He pointed the gun, his finger squeezed the trigger, there was a shot.

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He felt a needle-sharp prick in his neck. Then there was nothing.

****

Frank awoke after a long darkness to find himself in a hospital bed, with three faces staring down at him.

There was Vera, Lieutenant Burke, and Judge Browers.

Upon seeing the judge, everything came back to Frank in a rush. He sat up too fast and the room whirled dizzyingly around him. Vera helped him lay back down.

“I…I thought I shot…” Frank’s voice sounded harsh and broken.

“It’s okay, son,” Judge Browers said. “I’m all right, though it was a bit close for my taste.”

“But what happened?” Frank asked. His last memories were a confused jumble.

“The task force got wind the Ecuadorians might try to eliminate me,” Judge Browers said. “It became clear you were a prime candidate to carry out the hit.”

“Your desire to get on the task force was common knowledge, always poking around their cases, sticking your nose in,” Lieutenant Burke said, shaking his head.

He still couldn’t hide his annoyance. “All they had to do was arrange a big score for you, figuring the judge would ask you aboard, or congratulate you, or do something that brought you two together.”

“But you’re not dead,” Frank said, turning to Judge Browers.

He gave a tight smile. “We didn’t know for sure you were a sleeper until you pulled the gun,” he said.

“But we were ready. One of our top priorities has been to get a hold of someone while they were under the influence of the drug. It’s the only way we can hope to develop a test for it or counteract its effects.” Frank remembered the pin-prick in his neck.

“So you put me out and studied me,” he said softly. “The Ecuadorians used me, and you used me, too.” He looked at Burke. “You knew about this the whole time.”

“It was done over my objections, but yeah, I knew,” the lieutenant said.

“This operation was under my orders,” Judge
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Browers said. “You want to blame someone, blame me.” Frank wasn’t done. He looked at Vera. “You knew, too.”

She nodded, unable to speak for a moment. “I knew,” she said. “You’d been under surveillance for a while. We were pretty sure your date put something in your coffee while you were in the head. But we couldn’t be positive, she must’ve been a real pro. And then, after that sleeper whacked Richie, and almost got you, we didn’t know what to think. I was just told to stay close, in case…in case…” Her voice hitched.

Frank covered her hand with his. “It’s okay, kid, you were just doing your job.”

Judge Browers coughed. “Well, what’s important is that it’s all over,” he said. “You’re free and clear of the drug and we’ve made real progress against Hector and his hoods. Now get some rest, we want you healthy as a horse so you can hit the ground running.” Frank’s eyes narrowed. “The task force? Your offer was legit?”

The judge’s craggy features softened. “Yes it was, detective, if you still want it.” Frank thought hard. Pictures of the neighborhood where he would move flowed through his mind, as did the look on his kids’ faces when he told them the news.

But then his pride – his stupid, towering pride – got in the way. How could he look Terry and the other task force members in the eye after he had been used like a patsy in their little plan? How could they look at him without wondering if he was still under the drug’s influence?

Lieutenant Burke read his face like an open book. “Frank, for once in your life, don’t be a goddamn fool, the judge here is giving you…” The lieutenant went on, but Frank had stopped listening. Vera’s hand, still under his, had just gone rigid. He looked at her. Vera’s face was flushed, her expression completely blank…just like the accountant’s.

Frank watched in horror as she turned her vacant eyes toward the judge, who was looking away somewhat embarrassed as Lieutenant Burke continued to berate Frank.

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Oh my god
, Frank thought. Words stuck in his throat. He knew he only had seconds. Vera reached down and calmly pulled her gun out of its holster.

Frank lurched out of his bed and propelled himself into Vera, knocking her backward over the chair and onto the floor with a terrific crash. The lieutenant and Judge Browers swore, but then Burke saw the gun in Vera’s hand and threw himself into the pile while the judge yelled for security. Frank tried to reach for the gun, but his head was still groggy and now there were three bodies struggling and fighting instead of two.

There was a gunshot, a whiff of powder filled Frank’s nostrils. The lieutenant and Frank rolled off Vera, and Frank saw his partner laying still, a spreading stain of crimson soaking through her shirt around the stomach.

Frank screamed for help, and in moments the room filled with security and medical staff. He crouched on the floor, cradling Vera’s head in his lap. The gun had fallen out of her hand and she blinked a few times, coming out of her stupor.

“Frank, what…?” Her face mirrored pain as sensation returned to her body in a flood.

“It’s okay, kid, stay with me, you’re going to be fine,” he promised.

Medical staff pushed Frank back and expertly lifted Vera onto a gurney, which they rushed over to the ER. In seconds the room was empty, save for the judge, Lieutenant Burke and Frank, who remained where he was on the floor, staring at the small puddle of his partner’s blood.

Shock registered on each of their faces, and a cold rage began to build inside of Frank. He looked at Judge Browers.

“Judge, about the task force,” he said.

The judge looked at him, grim-faced.

“I’m in.”

About the Author:

Jason Kahn

Jason Kahn lives in Park Slope, Brooklyn, with all the other young families who fled Manhattan for more space. By day, he works as a medical editor for a New York-based cardiology research foundation. Jason’s hobbies include rooting for his University of Michigan Wolverines and chasing after two mischievous gnomes who claim to be his children. Jason’s most recent fiction, The
Dark InSpectre series,
is currently running.

Other stories of his can be found in various places in-

cluding Baen’s Universe,
Gryphonwood,
the anthology

Strange Stories of Sand and Sea, and Abandoned Tow
-

ers Magazine (May, 2010).

Feel free to check out his
website,
blog,
or
facebook

page for more info., or just to say hi.

The Dark InSpectre: http://darkinspec.blogspot.com/

Baen’s Universe: http://baens-universe.com/articles/Devil_

May_Care

Gryphonwood: http://gryphonwood.blogspot.com/2007/12/

taurus-ascendant-by-jason-kahn.html

Strange Stories of Sand and Sea: http://www.jjsargent.com/fi-